For blog post #5 Narrative Project: A Wizard-of-Oz Journey, I am going to interpret the Wizard of Oz: If I Only Had the Brain, Heart, Nerve, Wizard of Oz: Meeting the Wizard , and Wizard of Oz: You've Always Had the Power videos by answering the following questions below as it relates to my Narrative Project of emotional life event.
How does your narrative allow you to travel into your brain (mind) then and now? My narrative have allowed my brain to travel an unmeasurable distances that I thought I had forgotten about and places I’ve been. Now, it’s like a reflection of my past life. How does your narrative allow you to explore your heart (emotions) about the event then and now? I think I was hostile, angry and most of all ready to avenge my treatments I underwent in my youth. This could be everyone I had ever had contact with as at relate to my narrative, especially my step mother, brother and my dad. But for now and as I get older, I no longer bear those thoughts in my mind anymore. I think, it has made me what I am today. Stronger mentally, physically and spiritually. How does your narrative meet the nerve (high-stakes) element of meaningful storytelling? My narrative meets the nerve (high-stakes) element of meaningful storytelling, because it has the following with in it: Dialogue, action, theme, conflict, imagery, voice, character or DAT for short. How does your narrative enable you to re-examine the power (agency) you have in authoring your life-story? It show how powerful it’s to be able to construct your life story through narrative or memoir so that people can feel and experience your past. I helps you to rethink of your life and make positive decisions so that other can learn from your story and also there’s power in writing plus the way we write it to making meaning. What shapes our sense of identity: Life events or the stories we tell ourselves about life events? I my understanding, life events are what shapes our sense of identity. We happened to learned from our mistakes and not what stories we tell ourselves. Our identity is highly align with our identity. “Experience is the best teacher.” Julius Caesar.
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This blog post Narrative Project, I’ll be composing an emotional scene with dialogue and symbolism. Hills Like White Elephants (Ernest Hemingway), How to Format Dialogue and Symbolism are the texts that were assigned for reading. This post will appeal to the five senses. Description, action and theme are key in my narrative project post.
It was 20th of May 1991, dark and a rainy day. We were in the raining season. My uncle Felex and I had just got back from up country. Our cloths soaked on us and had really covered more than 25 miles by foot. We were suffering for starvation. My grand dad was sitting in his favorite chair made from rattan, it had a wide back which made it good for relaxing. The house was filled with people most of whom came from different parts of the city, internally displaced and they had no where to go. The air was very dark like smoke from an exhaust, one could hear heavy machine guns from afar and sporadic AK47 near. It felt like we were on the war front. My grand Dad said to my uncle, “your girlfriend’s Kadi and family are leaving for Ghana, do you want to go along?” “They came to inform your mother and I that they were leaving for Ghana via the ship.” “you just missed them, and do you want to go with them to Ghana?” My uncle, “Ooh yes, I’ll love to follow them to Ghana.” “Can I take my things along?” “yes, you can take your things with you.” “You have to take your nephew Francis along with you.” “I don’t want you to leave him behind” “Take him with you and make sure you protect him like you own eye.” I was standing there listening to what they were talking about. My grand dad told me, “you will be going with your uncle to Ghana.” “I want you to be in his sight at all time.” “Do you understand me?” Yes grandpa, I replied. My grandma gives us homemade cornbread to eat, we drank more water to fill our bellies. Because the bread was so little. She gives each one a hug, with tears in her eyes and said to us. “Let GOD be with you all” “Ooh, I have something to give you Felex, let me go grab it.” She went inside of her bed room, she stayed ever so long. We thought something had happen to her. She finally came out with a white Bible, it was a King James Version. “keep this Bible with you at all time Felex.” We were ready now to leave. Both my grandpa and grandma spoke in one voice. “Your good and let God’s blessing be upon your.” We headed out of the house for the Free Port to meet Kadi and her family. ,
My Narrative Project is about a time in my life that I can never ever forget about, the impact was so huge that it nearly cost my life but all thanks to God that made all things possible for me to stay be alive even though I still bear the wounds. What is Creative Nonfiction? (Lee Gutkind), Making Scenes in Memoir (Lee Martin) and My Name is Margaret (Maya Angelou) are the assigned readings that will guide me through Composing a Present Scene with Dialogue and Symbolism, Composing a Past Scene and to complete my project in English 1 Compositions Class. I’m a beginner to the Narrative Writing Process, but I am relying heavily on the Dr. Mengini and the given materials to build my capacity. I’m expected to make mastics along the way but I’m confident that I’m going put the pieces together after one or two drafts. I’ll be very grateful to my class mates that will critic my work and give me feedbacks be it positives or negatives. Let me say thanks in advance to you all. It was 4pm that evening 1986 in Monrovia the capital city of Liberia, the weather was very humid at least 119 C or more. The street was filled with petite traders, pedestrians moving back and forth with profuse perspirations running down their forehead, some was soaked to the point that their cloths stuck on them like glue, like they had been beach swimming. It could be compared to rush hours in some major cities of the world, like New York City. We were in my grandfather 1978 Volkswagen bus, it was painted green. The bus had holes in it that one could see and feel the dusts and gravels rushing into the bus like sifter diamonds from the pebbles. The bus sounded like an airplane, it’s muffle was hanging almost to touch the ground while moving. Wipers on the bus was broken and both lift, and right view mirror broken as well, the driver had to literally turn his head around in order to observed traffic or changed lanes, uses his hands to clean the windshield. The music playing in the bus was Postcard to New York by Movieland, the speakers in it was like an upscale club. In the bus was Sister Marie, who is my step mother, my step mother, Alfred my dad, Marie’s mother Miss Blamo, plus myself. We were heading to the Robert’s International Airport outside Monrovia, I was so excited to have such an experience, my dad was leaving for the United State’s and I had hope that my life was going to improved. 7pm was my dad checking time, 7:30 the cue started to form around the departure gate, and 7:45pm the announcement came over the speakers “last call for gate 2 for passengers of Pan”. My dad held us all together, it felt like we were at a burial that moment. Dad quickly joined the line for departure, we stood there watching while they boarded. We started to head back to central city, but this time; it was without my dad. I was going lived with my step mother Marie and her Mother Miss Blamo. Marie had no child, according to family members she lost about 5 children during birth or miscarriages. However, she was pregnant with her 6th child this time around;rumors had it that she had been to more than a dozen native doctors, so that this pregnancy could stay. I was only three years old at the time, and so naive. Few months after my dad left, Marie had her first child and named Dump Site. The name that one of the native doctors give her. She was told that if she refuses to call him Dump Site, he was going to die. Marie my step mother was very happy that she now had a child, she saw me as an outsider now. I was now made a domestic slave, I was doing all the house work at age 6. I fetch water from well between 1 to 2 miles distances from the house to the well on my head using five US gallon. I went to the market to buy the house groceries. I washed the house floor every Saturday morning. I did the laundries using my hands, my hands were so little to hold the cloth, but I had no choice. I was whip messily for no reason using any thing that was in her reach, ranging from her hands, feet, electric wire, tree branches, belts, shoes heels. Marie threw breakable things at me they included bowls, mugs, plates and bottles. She hardly fed me, I ate off our neighbors left over and when I am caught, I’ll get flogged and punished the next day with out food and still must do the work. Many days I will ask God to please take me out of this Hell Hole or sometime asked “ooh God why me and when will I get out of this bondage?” I really don’t know how to call this day, maybe bad day or good day? I really think it should be both, but I will take the good over the bad. I was this day that I had been punished and whipped, I was very hungry and exhausted. Marie my step mother told me to carry my little brother on my shoulders so that he could sleep. Because I was so frail, my brother and I fell to the ground with his head hitting the concrete floor, in her very present. My little brother started to cry loud, I was shivering and knew that I was going to die at that moment. My step mother raced for her son on the floor, she picked him and told me that she was coming for me! I didn’t know what to do, I started crying out loud before she could even start to torture me. Marie went in her room and came out with a red, white and blue baseball bat, she swung it right at the back of my head, I fell to the floor leaving unconscious with blood oozing from my head and the neighbors came running. I woke up lying in a community clinic with my granddad and grandma at the foot of my bed, they told me that one of the neighbors had informed them about the incident and that they were there to take me from my step mother Marie. I was happy to hear that, and I asked if I could leave right that moment, they said no because I still had bandage all around my head. I remained in the clinic for two days and was discharged to my grandparents. God had answered my prayers!! Writing Process
This post is about the writing process which was assigned to me by Dr. Sabatino Mangini my English Composition 1 instructor. I am to bring alive three major writers that contributed greatly to the writing process through interacting and dialog. We'll discussed their ideas and how me as novice can learn the writing process. The assigned texts are listed below. Teach Writing as a Process Not a Product (Don Murray) Against Vanity: In Praise of Revision (Mary Karr) Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life (Anne Lamott) My name is Francis Bracewell, born in West African Liberia. Liberia suffered 15 years of civil and political unrest during the early 90’s, the war finally ended in 2004. A democratic election was held, ushering African’s first female president Ellen Johnson Sirleaf. As a child growing up, I was always enthusiastic about writing, even though the civil crisis deprived my generation of my youthful days, but it didn’t perturb me from learning and finding answers to the writing process. On the 20th day of January 2019, during one of my English Composition classes at the Delaware County Community College, I had the opportunity to meet three of the major contributors that give meaning to the writing process. They were Don Murry, Mary Karr and Anne Lamott, I was so excited to be in their presents. I said to myself that if I am given the chance, I am going to asked them all about the writing process, what’s the best way to start the writing process and what are the tips in becoming a good writer? Fortunately for me that day, I was given the opportunity for a dialogue with the writers. I introduced myself once more to the English Composition 1 class and to the visiting guests. Since the time was not in my favor, other class mates needed their time with visiting guests. For beginner like me, I had to be more to the point with my concerns at it relates to the writing process. My inquest to body was how can I as a student of the English 1 Composition learned from them (the writers) the best practice to apply the writing process? Don Murray was the first to address my quest, he stated that by saying that he is more interested in the process rather than the product of writing. Don Murray said that the writing process can be divided into three stages: “Prewriting is everything that takes place before the first draft. Prewriting usually takes about 85 percent of the writer’s time. It includes the awareness of his world from which his subject is born. In prewriting, the writer focuses on that subject, spots an audience, chooses a form which may carry his subject to his audience. Prewriting may include research and daydreaming, note-making and outlining, title-writing and lead-writing” “Writing is the act of producing a first draft. It is the fastest part of the process, and the most frightening, for it is a commitment. When you complete a draft you know how much, and how little, you know. And the writing of this first draft—rough, searching, unfinished—may take as little as one percent of the writer’s time” “Rewriting is reconsideration of subject, form, and audience. It is researching, rethinking, redesigning, rewriting—and finally, line by-line editing, the demanding, satisfying process of making each word right. It may take many times the hours required for a first draft, perhaps the remaining 14 percent of the time the writer spends on the project”. Don Murray was followed by Mary Karr. She begun by thanking me for me gaining interest in the writing process and urge me to remain focus in my study and learned the process of writing and it will benefit me as a professional writer. Marry Karr “Actually, every writer needs two selves—the generative self and the editor self”. In the early draft, the generative self shakes pom-poms at every pen stroke and cheers every crossed t. In a month or so, this diligent and optimistic creature gins out, say, two hundred pages. “The editor self then shows up to heft the pages, give a sniff, and say: Yeah, but . . . The editor condenses two hundred pages down to about thirty. I don’t mean she cuts the rest; she may well boil the whole thing down so the same amount of stuff happens more economically”. “The editor self thinks only of saving the reader time and shaping a powerful emotional experience. She can’t turn her complaints and suspicions and doubts off”. Mary final words of encouragement was “Just picking up a pen makes you part of a tradition of writers that dates thousands of years back and includes Homer and Toni Morrison and cave artists sketching buffalo”. Anne Lamott was the last guest speakers, she was so visual in her address. Anne talked about starting a writing process, is like a one-inch picture frame which she can for example develop her first paragraph to set he tone for her writing. “Almost all good writer begins with a terrible first efforts. You need to start somewhere. Start by getting something-anything- down on paper” considering it the first draft or Shitty first draft. “the second draft is the up draft, you fix it up. You try to say what you have to say more accurately” “the third draft is the dental draft, where you checked every tooth to see if it’s loose or cramped or decayed, or even God help us, healthy” At the end of Anne inputs on the writing process, I was very happy to have encountered such an amazing group of intellects and the values they added to my knowledge. I have learned three important from the Anne, Mary and Don. “No one has monopoly over the writing process, so one should have an open mind in the process” “Never be terrify about making mistakes in the writing process, it will make you stronger and stronger in the process” “Always go over and over what you have written and if possible, get a third person input or to critic your work for more improvement in the writing process” I will be answering the Proust Questionnaire in this post.
What is your idea of perfect happiness? My Idea of perfect happiness is when one gets what he or she has been desperately in need off. I’ll say in short when your long-awaited prayer is answered by the Good Old Lord. What is your greatest fear? My greatest fear is for me not to get old before accomplishing my dreams, because I’ll not be able to sustain myself nor will I know who will take care of me during my old age and remaining days on earth. What is the trait you most deplore in yourself? Being respectful is my most deplored trait and I think it’s the way to achieving higher heights. What is the trait you most deplore in others? I’m indecisive of other deplored trait because we humans are not fixed and therefore, we change or act differently as situation unfolds. Which living person do you most admire? Barack Obama, he was able to remain courageous throughout his straggle (Raciest, hardship) and became one of the world’s most powerful person, that’s the President of The United States of America. What is your greatest extravagance? Providing for my family is my greatest extravagance. What is your current state of mind? I’m in a Stable state of mind. What do you consider the most overrated virtue? I thank the term or phase “fight global hunger” is overrated because all over the world people are still dyeing from hunger while later is been done in the name of fighting hunger. On what occasion do you lie? I haven’t come across that occasion yet, but I will if that’s the only way for me to survive. What do you most dislike about your appearance? My toes, I thank my toes are horrible to the point that I don’t allowed people to see them. Which living person do you most despise? The orange man. In my mind, I think he’s not a leader but a ruler who only care for the elites. He thinks that we’re not in the days of old where Kings reign. What is the quality you most like in a man? Treatment to others as if it was themselves. Like the bible say’s “Do unto others as you wish them do unto you” What is the quality you most like in a woman? How she carries herself and the respect for her body. I believe that a woman should be reserved and not all over the place which will devalue her. Which words or phrases do you most overuse? I use the five magical words: Please, Sorry/I’m Sorry, Thank You, Excuse Me and May I. What or who is the greatest love of your life? My wife is the greatest love of my life, she’s always there in every weather. When and where were you happiest? 2018 April 15, my wedding day. Which talent would you most like to have? Self-driven or a handy man. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be? Empathy, I think get or feel sorry for people too quick that I go about taking the shirt off my back to give it to them leaving me without one. What do you consider your greatest achievement? Graduating from High school, it set the base for which I’m standing on now. If you were to die and come back as a person or a thing, what would it be? As Francis Bracewell but with more fortunes. Where would you most like to live? Africa, Liberia where I was born. I really love it there. What is your most treasured possession? My life, because I have life and in good health. What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery? When I had an accident back home and I almost lost my left hand. What is your favorite occupation? Probation officer is one of my favorite occupation I have had. What is your most marked characteristic? Smiles, I love to keep that smile on my face no matter what. What do you most value in your friends? A dependable friend will always win my loyalty. Who are your favorite writers? John Grisham and Robert Ludlum. Who is your hero of fiction? Sylvester Stallone (John Rambo) Which historical figure do you most identify with? Charles Darwin, I love his theory of Evolution by Natural Selection. Who are your heroes in real life? My grandma and grandpa, aunties and Uncles. What are your favorite names? Francis, Raphina, Hassan, Fumilayo and Rosetta. What is it that you most dislike? To be over looked or to be looked down upon. What is your greatest regret? When my country Liberia was involved in civil crisis, which made my generation to lost on youthfulness and achieving nothing as kids. How would you like to die? Peaceful is the way I’ll like to die because I wouldn’t want to put any of my family members through difficult times. |
FrancisI will use this blog to create and inform my readers of what I have learned in my English Composition course. Archives
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