Monday, November 9, 2009

Project Reflection


1. To me, there are many ways to how someone can become a hero. I wouldn't say there is a certain way to define a hero. The meaning of hero can be different to one person than it is to the other.

2. Project Description: The purpose of this project was for us to chose someone that was a hero to us (personally), someone who had changed our life in a positive way. We then were to interview that person and write a character sketch describing them in their heroic moment.

3. Process: The first step to this project was to pick our hero, and explain why they are a hero to us. We then wrote our first draft and had it reviewed. The same went for the second draft. Once the final character sketch of our hero was finished we then put it into a templet that contained two pictures of our hero.

4. Reflection: I learned how to create a character sketch and how to use
Adobe InDesign. The main challenge i had was describing my hero in the character sketch, and trying to describe them in their heroic moment.

5. One of the habits of mind that I used was evidence. In my character sketch i gave a lot of evidence on how and why i consider my hero a hero in my eyes.


Thursday, November 5, 2009

The Origin of Zero

What strikes you about the article?
The fact that people came up with zero way back then, and to think that it has traveled around the world and is now used in our daily life's.

How do we decide who discovers what?
I don't think anyone is exactly sure about who discovered zero. it was first discovered in Mesopotamia around 3 B.C, but then it kept being discovered in other places as well. It was later found in India in the fifth century A.D where it was then considered a number.

Who really discovered zero? Is it the person who came up with the concept of zero or the person who discovered the actual number?
I think it would be both. Considering the fact that the person who came up with the concept did not come up with the number, but yet the person who came up with the number couldn't have done so, without there already being a concept.

And how did the entire world come to a consensus without an efficient means of communication?
Well the concept as well as the number zero was made my communication. And im guessing thats the same way it got spread throughout the years.

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Hero Character Sketch



“Get Up, Lets’ Go!”


“Get up, lets go!” she says in a high pitch voice. Trying to ignore her I roll over in my bed. “Come on, get up” she says once more with a smirk on her face and her hands placed on her hips. I turn to look out my window, the sky still a light gray and the sun not fully out. There she is, standing in my doorway waiting for me to get up. She’s serious, she’s really not moving till I get up I thought to myself. The clock read 6:30 am. And with a loud groan I turned over and covered my face with my quilt. “Put your shorts on and let’s go,” she says even louder as if I didn’t hear her the first time. Not really sure of what was going on, my cousin and I got up and threw our shorts on. “Were going to the beach,” she says with a smile drawn across her face. I look into her brown eyes, tiered and still puffy. Her curly hair puffed out like a lions. Great, she’s done it again I thought. Another one of her crazy ideas. The breeze blows my hair from my face as I catch a glimpse of my mom. The waves barely reaching her feet. The mocking sound of seagulls fills the background as she stands there with her back facing me. I can’t help but to smile at the thought of me walking the beach so early on a summer morning. I try not to be too surprised. This is the kind of stuff my mom does all the time. She comes up with these crazy ideas, and does anything to follow through with them. I watch as her and my cousin kick water at each other. Her brown frizzy hair sways wildly as the wind blows in her direction. Tiny splashes of water drizzle onto her clothes. The loud sound of crashing waves fills my ears leaving me wide awake. The smile on her face says it all. “Get in, don’t be a party pooper,” she yells facing me. I smile and refuse to walk anywhere near her. I know she’s just waiting to get me wet. Drenched in water she slowly approaches me. With a smile on her face she grabs a hold of me. Her long arms wrap around my back as she hugs me. Her wet clothes stick to mine making a small, squishy sound. She squeezed tightly before letting go, leaving me soaked. The strong smell of salt water lingered on me. I watch as she walked away, her feet wet and covered in sand. Leaving a trail of big footprints behind her. She’s done it again. Done something to make everyone else have a good time. Not saying it works every time, because it doesn’t always make us have a good time, but it’s the thought that counts. She always goes out of her way to make us happy. No matter what, she always puts us first. I turn to see her dripping in water smiling back at me, her smile stretched from ear to ear. She drags her feet across the muddy sand and lets out a quiet laugh that echoes my way. The strong smell of seaweed and salt water fill my nostrils leaving me a bit light headed. I turn to my cousins one drenched in water and the other shaking her head with her arms crossed. I burry my feet in the fresh sand and smile. “She’s done it again!” I mutter under my breath.

Monday, November 2, 2009

The Boy


Catching the signal from one of her friends, Angela brushed her skirt, took a deep breath and walked towards where he was sitting. His back faced her with his hood pulled over his head. The street was filled with nothing but silence as she slowly approached him. There he was, curled up into a ball like a small child.
“Hey, you okay?” she shouted in his direction. Her friends on the opposite side of the street starring with their eyes stuck to him like glue. Her voice echoed down the silent street as he slowly shakes his head. Giving her friends a nervous look she fidgets with her hair and refuses to get any closer. He sat there wearing a large black sweatshirt with nothing bit his fingers tips showing. He rocked back and forth on the ice cold sidewalk. No part of his face showed and he wouldn’t respond to anyone.
“Angela, who’s that?” her friend Emily whispers with her finger pointing at him. Angela shrugged her shoulders and placed her hands on her hips trying to get a good look at him. She gets closer takes a deep breath and gently pats his shoulder. He stops rocking and lets out a loud groan. Causing Angela and her friends to jump up and gasp.
“Are you okay?” Angela says once again.
His voice crackly and his words hard to understand
“No, I’m not” he whispered. His eyes still not visible. Angela looks at her friends who are starring back with a confused look on their faces. She raised her arms and motioned them to come over.
Standing there watching him the three of them try their best to get any information out of him. Nothing seemed to work, all they had caused was for him to start rocking back and forth again, but this time even faster than the last. Not sure of what to do Angela crosses the street and heads towards her house, telling her friends she would be back, “ I should get my phone so we can call for help” she shouts. Just as she walked through her front door she hears a piercing scream that fills the neighborhood. She drops her phone and runs outside. Her heart beats fast as she notices the boy is missing. Neither one of her friends are anywhere to be seen. She looks to her left, and watches a family getting in their car. She then glances to her right as kids play in their yards. And no one seemed to have heard of seen anything.