Zinnerman, Justice Shall Be Made

For generations, the all-American citizen has been portrayed as a white man with Christian values, being ultra conservative. Residents of Arab, Latino and Black cultures are expected to be criminals; nevertheless, whites are seen as the ultimate peacekeepers. In the States it is an era where an African-American is leading the country—An era where supposedly all racism is forgotten. But yet, violence as serious as murder has occurred due to manifest destiny of those who believe that a true American is only to be Caucasian.

On March 26 in Sanford, Florida, seventeen-year-old Trayvon Martin was returning from his convenient store with a bag of Skittles and a bottle of iced tea. Neighborhood watchman George Zimmerman, shot the teen in what he says was self-defense. But really it was just racial thinking that led the madman to believe that a black boy with a hoodie is a potential threat to safety. Zimmerman has previously been in trouble for violent acts: He was arrested for shoving a policeman when his friend was arrested for serving alcohol to underage drinkers. Also, his unidentified ex-fiancé reportedly had a violent relationship with him; consequently, filing protective injunctions against one another. Although, there is no evidence of the crime and therefor Zimmerman has not been punished for the murder of Martin.

Zimmerman must pay for his actions, killing another human being is worth being thrown into jail for life—It doesn´t matter the color of the victim´s skin, but justice should be made in their remembrance. Even though there isn´t any evidence to proof the madman is guilty, there isn´t any proof he is innocent either. But honestly, a man who has been involved with violence numerous times like he has is not trustworthy. People can be treated very unfairly due to others´ believes, for example, in To Kill A Mockingbird, Scout is insulted by her aunt just because she doesn´t have the same interests as other girls her age have. Most likely, Zimmerman is prejudiced about Blacks just like Scout´s aunt was about girls, he probably was sure that all of them were like the criminals he heard about in the news. So he judges every African-American as cruel, violent and guile: a criminal. Not having knowledge about a case leads one to think nonsense, to commit injustice just like Zimmerman did; One acts this way because the information one is acting upon is an unreliable lie. As a community it is our job to be aware and be educated about the different cultures and ethnicity of people, so we don´t become prejudice. Just the knowledge of one person can pervade through a whole nation and protect the innocent; therefore, injustice will not be committed due to rubbish judging.    

Zimmerman really is a coward, he felt the need to protect himself from a teenager because of a concept he doesn´t understand. Zimmerman does not understand that the Unites States is full of wonderful Blacks; however, he feels they are dangerous instead. Zimmerman really feared something that wasn´t true, he feared a crime that Martin would have never committed—He expected Martin, just because of the dark color of his skin and the hooded sweat shirt he had on, to threaten his safety. You see when people have this overall idea of a topic, it might not apply to everything involved with that topic, but yet their actions are all still based on the same idea and therefore are the same towards everything related to that subject. For example, referring back to To Kill A Mockingbird, the whole town believes Boo Radley is a dangerous beast that everyone needs to be aware of. But really, the man has resulted to suffering due to an abusive father—Yet Scout and Jem take precaution of Boo and taunt the man because they believe the town´s rumors. They fear this whole myth that they clearly do not understand, because it does not exist. Zimmerman feared what he believes African-Americans are, so he shot one in order to feel safe.   

Bottom line is that Zimmerman was influenced to commit this crime due to all the racism and prejudice he holds in his heart. To him, a white boy with blue eyes wearing a tucked in shirt and Hush Puppies would have been completely different: a harmless, well-behaved teenager. Even if Zimmerman didn´t murder Martin based on his racists beliefs, he still took someone else´s life—If he has the guts to end a kid´s life, he should have the courage to accept his fault and end the rest of his days behind the bars.  

To Kill A Mocking Bird: Chapter 8 Summary

Jem and I sure felt guilty for this calamity. It hadn´t snowed in Maycomb County since 1885, and legend has it that when kids disobey their parents, bizarre changes in nature occur. Another tragedy happened as well, Mrs. Radley died, and Jem was convinced Boo had finally caught her. Atticus had gone to the Radley´s place to pay respect; while my brother wondered if Boo had the guts to show his face after murdering his own mother.  

Like I said, it was our fault for the cold—Mr. Avery thought so too, and by the way he accused us, I apprehended the man thought that out household was in state of anarchy. But the snow was already here, and there was nothing better to do than enjoy it; especially on a day free of the shackles of school.  Jem and I decided to build on of those snowmen—We conspired to make it ginormous, the best one humanity would ever see. We started building, until we realized there wasn´t enough snow in our backyard. Jem wore his kindest face when he asked Miss Maudie if we could borrow her snow; surprisingly, she gave us permission. But even that wasn´t enough, and we were forced to make a base out of mud and cover that with what little snow we had available.

As for the face, Jem and I had a dissension at first, whether it would be a boy or girl. Until we came to the agreement of making our creation a fat, mean masculine figure: Mr. Avery. We were so meticulous about his body parts, nose, arms and even his “private” part. Jem had gotten quite offended by Atticus´s surprise that the boy was smart enough to make the man out of mud and snow. Atticus assimilated all the details, and realized that the snowman was meant to be Mr. Avery. But what really caught Atticus off guard was Mr. Avery´s “private” section, although he didn´t mind—He just said we needed to disguise it. But, by the look of Miss Maudie´s face when she saw our addition to the snowman, it was imminent she would freak, which she did.

The hours elapsed into a short day; and my sleep wasn´t long either. Atticus woke me up, ordering me to put on my robe and go outside. I felt this sweltering heat as soon as I stepped a foot out the door—It was a fire next door at Miss Maudie´s. Atticus ordered my brother and I to stand by the Radley´s place, to keep out of trouble, and that’s exactly what we did. But, Atticus didn´t exactly believe so. He started interrogating me about a blanket I had, he said that if we had stayed where he told us, I would have not had that blanket. Now I tried to make memory, but I didn´t remember anything ‘bout someone covering me. Then Jem spoke,

“Mr. Nathan was here at the fire. Scout you were too busy watching you didn´t realize that he put the blanket around your shoulders!”

I sure felt confused, that man I far from lionized actually cared for me? But I couldn´t help but think of anything else at the moment than the second recent death. Yes, the pumpkin like, muddy, chubby, morphodite: Mr. Avery the snowman.

Zack, You Are Still Dear To Me

Dear Zack,

            I hope you read the article I wrote for the New York Times—its about when you arraigned and interrogated that assassinator. When you busted his ass, remember? I just can´t believe all you have achieved on all these years that have elapsed. Congratulations on all your success.

            New York is great, very metropolitan-very big. Although I have my dream job (although, I´m not lionized or anything,) I still miss Tiburon like you have no idea.  I might of whined about the sweltering summer days back then, but I sure miss them when it´s December over here.

            I talked to August a few days ago; she sure misses you and me when we would conspire making the honey. She also mentioned that you and your wife, Annie, celebrated little Ebony´s fourth birthday last weekend. Please wish her a happy birthday for me; I want to meet that little girl that I hear so much about.

            I still await the day when I can fall in love again, just like you did. The world was so bizarre, unfair back then when we were young. Such anarchy, they even prohibited us from being together. By the time that changed--it was too late--you had moved on with your life. But it’s nothing to regret, I mean you found Annie and now have your little Ebony to treasure, it’s a fact no one can have a dissension on.

            I look back, and meticulously read the stories I wrote in that journal you gave me—so I can assimilate every detail. I cry sometimes, when I remember my lonely nights in the honey house, the Calendar sisters, the bees, the shackles of T-Ray. But when I remember you I always gain hope. Zack, I am getting older by the second, and at thirty-four I still haven´t fallen in love more than once. But then again, I remember you--Zachary. I remember that summer, our summer love.    

            So I wanted to thank you-for showing me I am capable of falling in love, I have apprehended it is possible. If I didn´t have those memories to go back to, I´d think I´d be lonely forever, that my life would be nothing but a calamity. You will always be my first love, but not my last. I know it´s imminent that I will find my better half. Farewell for now.

Love,

Lily 

To Be A Maha

To have the name of Maha, you must gain it. To be a “Maha” you must be audacious, be joyful in profusion, when needed, serene. But most importantly to be a “Maha” you must be ghetto. A “Maha” doesn´t feel the need to be conscientious, she will even approach a new student for the first time quite ecstatically, quite cheerily. One of a “Maha´s” greatest talent is for literature, she can make a paragraph so descriptive that one can depict every detail. A “Maha” could also be sort of a detective, they are always curious, always want to know everything. Even if they have the slightest inkling, they will stop at nothing while seeking the truth. “Mahas” have hearts of gold, they never pilfer, they don´t make someone weep, even if they were to rebuke, it would be constructive criticism. In the eyes of the world a “Maha” is so perfect that even the most slovenly mess they have created, is flawless in our eyes. Now it is time to ask the real question… Do you have what it takes to be a “Maha?”  

     Maha, thank you for being my first friend in Balboa Academy. I remember it like it was yesterday,

“Oh my God, are you new? Hi, I´m Maha.What’s your name?”

Well who knew we would be such friends in such little time, thank you for that. Like I said, you posses everything in order to be a “Maha”, and because of those talent I and everyone in the school will truly miss you. Because of those talents I am sure you will do just fine in Atlanta as well. You are beautiful, kind, smart and funny, you posses everything to be successful in life! Good luck in you new adventure!

Will miss you,

Ana Lorena Garcia 

Forever Despondent

Forever Despondent

  I think Brom Bones fancies me, unfortunately. That boy sure is irascible, always pulling hurtful and gruesome pranks, not caring how excruciating the victim´s pain is. I consistently reject his entreaties to go for dinner, that boy does not know the meaning of the word no. I have no respect for Brom Bones, although, if he were like Ichabod Crane, maybe we would have a future together.  

   Mr. Crane used to teach me the art of singing, oh what a beautiful voice that man had. He was also my history teacher; he had two jobs so that he could pay at least for his necessities. The man moved from Connecticut, to this haunted Tarry Town. 

   I myself adored Mr. Crane; I believe he loved me as well. In class, he would answer with great affability any of my questions, and end his responses with a sunny smile, always. Don´t take amiss his attitude! He was never one to take advantage of his position and power; he was one willing to wait for me, until our love could be accepted in society. Our love was to be secret, but our actions spoke for themselves, almost everyone knew about how we felt.

   About two months, Mr. Crane gave a lesson about the Revolutionary War; he went so in depth with the topic, even specifying some soldiers’ names. He talked about this one  

Hessian soldier, the one who´s spirit they call the Headless Horseman. The Headless Horseman has been said to have lost his head in battle, and his ghost has been seen by the church looking for his head, where his headless body is buried. The ghost has also been seen in the reclusive area of Sleepy Hollow, a spooky and terrifying land where almost no man has gone. That same day, I sent my messenger to invite Mr. Crane to a party at my father´s castle.

   The party went so ever well, until Mr. Crane saw the one student he abhorred, Brom Bones. Brom started with a tirade that seemed almost interminable, telling Mr. Crane how I was meant to be with him, not to live beside a poor, ugly teacher. Being the sage gentleman he was, he simply left, ignoring all of Brom´s insults.

   Mr. Crane took the path of Sleepy Hollow back to his home, but he never returned back to his farm, just his horse did. After the discovery of Mr. Crane´s hat, a smashed pumpkin and footsteps beside, a rumor started circulating Tarry Town. It claimed the ghost of the Headless Horseman took him. Some citizens say that Brom pulled another of his pranks on Mr. Crane, and that it was such a despicable one that he was forced to leave. Some say that he is still alive and sharing his story all throughout the country. But no answer is for sure; it will always remain a mystery.

   Whatever the true story is, I will forever be despondent, no one will ever fill the space in my heart left by Ichabod Crane.