What goes through a chicken's mind right before itshead is chopped off By Boone

Does it lose all since of reality
like a stow away on a ship

Or does it remember its family
like his brother chip

Does it remember it forgot to lay an egg
or follow over like a rotten sailors peg

Maybe it just knows its lived a full life
like an old blind dog

Or does it bog down
Like an old car

Merry go round

My name is Sierra Becklerud. I'm seven years old today, and for my birthday present I wanted to go on a Merry go round. I traveled with my two brothers and my parents. I was the happiest girl ever, unlike my parents who were worried the whole trip over. They were talking about not being able to ride the Merry go round. I didn't know why i wouldn't be able to and I had high hopes that they were just trying to scare me. Just in case I brought my snazzy new high heels with me, and even stole some of my mothers make up. This way I would be taller, and also look older. I ran to the merry go round with my purple and pink unicorn dangling from my arm. As I stopped i noticed that there was no one else in the whole place that was colored. It looked like all the walls had been painted white and i was a little black smudge. My smile slowly faded off my face into a lonely frown. As the whites walked by me the children's parents hid them away from me, and it felt like they were staring straight into my soul. I felt like i was doing something wrong. It reminded me of my firs miserable day of first grade. I walked into the room with my books in my hands and had on my blue summer dress. My mother had told me to grab daisies out of her garden, to give to my new teacher. The fresh breeze of the flowers filled the room. The teacher thanked me and sat me down in the Jim Crow section. I got laughed at because i sat alone and whenever i got called on i froze up like an ice cube. I couldn't move i was stuck in time. Every white kid stared and laughed. I thought i did something wrong and believed it too. The teacher never said anything. I wen home with no expression on my face. I wouldn't react to what the white kids called me. "Brownie" "Jim Crow girl" "Ugly" every day a new name. As soon as the kids left me alone i cried. I was convinced I was those things. My mother sat me down told me they were wrong i was perfect in every way. It was summer now the cruel kids were gone but here i was in the same position. Whites criticizing me for who i was. The one day that was supposed to be fun with cotton candy melting in my mouth with the sweet sugar dying my tongue blue. The day was supposed to be filled of laughing and music and just being a kid. Up till dark when the merry-go-round lights go on and the horses look like their floating. I walked up on to the merry-g-round looking at all the kids moving out of he line letting me get to the front of the line. All the kids on the ride got off and it was my turn. I looked at the man with my hands clenching my stuffed animal. My brown eyes studied the man. He was black as well he had sweat rolling down his face from the heat of the day. My mouth opened  slightly to say something but my words got caught in my throat. "Where is the Jim Crow section?" I asked. i always sit in the Jim Crow section so there had to be one here. "Mister cause i want a ride" his eyes tightened on me. I gulped and came out confidently "down South where i come from white and colored can't sit side by side." He nodded as if he wanted me to continue so i did. "Down South on the train theres a Jim Crow car. On the bus were put in the back but there aint no back to a merry-go-round" He felt sorry for me his eyes started to focus but i wan't finished quiet yet. "Where's the horse for a kid thats black?" I focused on him i wasn't leaving till i got a respond. I could feel the eyes looking at me mouth wide open stuck in disbelief. He was speechless. He could't believe a little girl could know so much. My eyes narrowed and stared at hi. He pointed back i didn't turn i sat and stared. I felt a tap on my sholder i turned aroung it was a white cop he grab

by Kacyee

Unicorns Undergoing

What happens to a unicorn undergoing death?

Does it poof away like cotton candy in your mouth?

Or does it go deep down south?

Does it fly into the clouds?

Or does it drop into the universe of unicorn crowds?

Maybe into heaven, it just has a secret code?

Or does it explode?

           <3 Zina, Meraiah, Nicole

Witness

Witness by Karen Hesse

A fun, quick unit. We begin to work on public speaking in small groups, while reading a book about the KKK, racism, and attempted murder.

The Barnes & Noble Review

Karen Hesse's Newbery Award-winning skills are put to great use inWitness, a poetic tale about friendship, fanaticism, and the deadly undercurrents of racial prejudice. The story takes place in a small Vermont town in the year 1924, revealing the devastating impact of the Ku Klux Klan on this pastoral, insular community. At the heart of the tale are two motherless girls who come to the attention of the newly formed Klan: 12-year-old Leanora Sutter, who is black, and 6-year-old Esther Hirsch, who is Jewish. 

Hesse tells her story, which is based on real events, through the eyes of 11 different characters. Each point of view is expressed in poetic form, but with a stark clarity of difference that makes the voices unique and identifiable. There is a fire-and-brimstone preacher whose sermons reveal him as a zealot and whose actions brand him as a hypocrite. There is a middle-aged farm woman named Sara who takes Esther under her wing despite the warnings of her neighbors, trying to help the child understand why the Klan has marked her and her widowed father as targets for their hatred. Esther's only other friend is Leanora, who is about to learn some harsh lessons on tolerance and hatred herself at the hands of the Klan. And linking them all together is 18-year-old Merlin Van Tornhout, a young man struggling to fit in with the adult world and determine for himself the difference between right and wrong. The remaining characters who circle the periphery of this core group reflect the various mind-sets and biases that were common during this era of fear and persecution, even in a setting as bucolic as the Vermont countryside.

Hesse weaves real historic events into her tale, such as the murder trial of the infamous kidnappers Leopold and Loeb, giving the work a definite period flavor. Using prose that is both sparse and powerful, she builds the tension with a slow crescendo of inevitability that ends in violence, but also offers up an unforgettable lesson on the true power of friendship and acceptance. (Beth Amos)

When you look by Brooke

When you look into my eyes what do you see?
A person full of wonder, excitement and happiness?
Or a dark place with nothing but sorrow and sadness?
Do you see an open book?
Or do you see a closed chest and dont take a second look?
When you need me am i there?
Or am i like you and turn my back and walk away like i dont care?
Is it really that hard to keep my stare?
Or is it because you feel bad that nothing is fair ?
Do you see nothing but black when you look into my eyes?
Or maybe a faint flicker of light from the tear that might slip from all the lie

Langston Hughes a Hero

Why Langston Hughes is a hero. 

1. He was a positive leader

2. He did something to make the world a better place; he did not wait around for the world to create a better place for him.

3. He struggled through most of life, but he always found the best in it.

4. In the midst of troubles and struggles he found humor.

5. He worked hard for his happiness. 

Langston Hughes video

Dreams Deferred

Harlem or Dreams Deferred

What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet? Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load. Or does it explode?

By Langston Hughes

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