Holocaust (World Studies)

Did the Holocaust exist? Well to all the nae sayers, it did happen.  I do not understand how someone can possibly think that this gruesome act had not occurred.  There are photos, buildings, and sightings. The Nazis even kept people's belongings before they were shot or gassed.  If one was to visit the Holocaust museum in Washington D.C. they would see prisoner’s belongings, belongings taken from them.  There are also journals written during that time.  Everyone does not have the same account but in every story people fear for their lives, for the lives of their loved ones.  The images show starvation and in what poor conditions the people were kept.  Many people were stripped of their cloths and shot in graves they dug themselves.  

thought in the book "Ordinary Men: Reserve Police Battalion 101 and the Final Solution in Poland" It explains that the Nazis are ordinary people and did not want to kill so many but did not want to step out of line, due to fear of being ridiculed or killed.  The soldiers would drink while shooting people as well as after to try and forget the faces and screams of the young and old they have shot. There are accounts from the killers and the killed/survivors. For so many different types of proof to surface is irrefutable evidence of the occurrence on the holocaust. 

http://www.english.illinois.edu/maps/holocaust/essaypics/medicalexp.jpg

This is an example of how people were treated. Meir children were so underfed, under clothed, and kept in unsanitary conditions.  Their legs are the size of their arms and the heads do not seem like they are fit for those bodies. The children do not seem altogether pleased by being there.

http://www.shamash.org/holocaust/photos/images/EG3.jpg

This picture shows Nazis making men and young boys strip down naked before an execution. As if killing them was not enough Nazis embarrassed them and ridiculed them. 

http://www.shamash.org/holocaust/photos/images/EG4.jpg

This is when the German soldiers drank the most when they had to kill each person individually.  The strongest men were taken from the villages first to dig the grave and once the Nazis though the hole would be deep enough the people were executed.

Tell Tale Heart by Edger Allen Poe

The Tell Tale Heart by Edger Allen Poe what a confusing story. I think that the best lie is the one closest to the truth; even for a crazy person.  When the narrator expresses his extreme fear for the “vulture eye”, also known as the blind person’s eye, I am led to believe him.  I know that the “vulture eye” refers to the blind person’s eye because when the narrator shines a light on it he simply does not notice it. I believe that the narrator really did care about the old man but his terrible fear started to eat at him until he went mad and had to kill the eye sadly including the old man.  Once he kills the old man he feels successful until the guilt starts seeping in, bleeding in though every wall coming through the floor.  At first he is able to ignore it but as time goes by the guilt increases.  In the end he can no longer hide his feelings and gives in.  The beating he hears coming from the flood is made up it is just his guilt manifesting, like the bad feeling you get when you do something you know is wrong.  

The Beging of the Story

Jennifer Bouvagnet

Mr. McCarthy

American Literature

May 5, 2011

I wake to the sound of birds singing their good mornings to one another, the light flapping noise of wind moving my shades and all the sunlight poring in through my window. I open one eye and wonder what time it is, I wonder if I should break the warm beerier my blankets provide but sleep overcomes me and I close my eyes for a little more. Unable to fall back into my dreamless sleep and tugged by my empty stomach I rise out of bed to make myself some breakfast.

While shuffle down my stairs to the kitchen I ponder on what I want to eat this morning. Due to the light happy early feeling this morning I decide to make myself a favorite, crêpes. I go to my magical box of cold; people call the fridge and retrieve eggs, butter, milk and one cannot forget the most important, the succulent red strawberries to garnish my early morning treat. Quickly I grab the remaining ingredients and whisk everything in a blue mixing bowl. I am now all set to commence the cooking. I lick my lips in anticipation. Done! I drop a few cut and washed strawberries and dig in.

With a full stomach I go back to my room and get ready for the sunny day that awaits me. To commemorate the blooming flowers I decide to wear my equally bright floral romper. I secure my navy blue police arm cover over my arm and grab the semi stylish women’s hat to place it on my head. Before I leave the room I grab an eleven inch long golden brown smooth piece of wood, my wand. Though technically I don’t need my wand to perform any of my mystifying tricks I like the cold feeling of wood between my fingers, it gives me a sense of stability and it is where I draw my confidence.

It has been many years now that we sorcerers were able to come out of hiding. Grandmother told me that when her mother was young, she was not able to tell anyone about what she could do. It came to the point where the only people that would know about ones powers was the direct family, no one else.

The reason we had to come out of hiding was because creators from the Old World were looking for a new source of food. Hundreds of wizards rose up to protect their new planet. Which brings us back to the present, it is my duty to serve and protect Chicago. I am part of a task force used to destroy the dangers from the Old World.

Today is May 8, 2057 and for some time now there have been one too many dragon attacks for my liking. I step out onto my front yard and breathe in the crisp air which has a slight after taste of smoke. Around my house I can see baby birds chirping in their nest waiting for the mama bird to come back and feed them their morning breakfast; big bugs and little bugs alike hurrying to catch some of the morning dew sparkling on the dark lush and half singed grass, and Jell-O my faithful 200 year old pooch peeing next to a tree. Lovely J

I stole out and greet the usual neighbors and I start paroling the streets. Nothing usually happens in the mornings; well nothing I cannot easily take care of. I run into a 3 foot tall, oily, wart covered troll racing down Wells Street holding a white purse with a strap much too long to be his. And in the distance I see an old women screaming “STOP HIM! HE HAS MY PURSE!” I think on my toes and conjure up a freezing spell. “Frigidus!” A cool snow reflective blue come swearing out of my sleeve, around the wand and smack dap in between the troll’s pointy shoulder blades.

With an accomplished feeling I trot over to the troll delicately grab the bag from the troll, I am not sure if it is just his face, but has the most horrific grimace and is giving me the stink eye. I unfreeze and handcuff the troll, apparently named Albert. 

The old woman who finally was able to get to us thanks me and takes the purse. She attempts to hit the troll but I quickly step in her way. She protests with “But he is just a slime ball troll he is nothing!” Repulsed I tell her that they are people to no better or no worse then her and that I do not tolerate that kind of behavior. I tell her she should read a history book about when black people were treated the same. I guess history really does always repeat its self.

The rest of my shift went by pretty smooth I just had to break up a fight at the chess tables about who won the game by W. Menomonee Street.

On my way home, to finish off the day I stop by the original Twin Anchors founded in 1932 (which is located in a building that dates back to 1881) that still makes the best tender, fall to the floor delicious, baby back ribs. I sit down on one of the green swiveling chairs at the bar and saver those glaze covered brown jewels. There is nothing better than good old fashioned baby back ribs. Before I leave I have to look at myself in the mirror behind the bar to make sure I wiped all of the rib sauce off my face.

It is getting dark and people are rushing home. It is the danger time, the most danger filled time of every day.  Dragons, thought beautiful with their various colors, sizes and shapes, come swooping down to find their dinner.  The city has designated areas where fresh, raw, bleeding meat is left out for them but there are always a few dragons that like the hunt.

Sorcerers are on high alert during this time.  I station myself with a couple of my compatriots in the middle of the LaSalle school play ground. It is the easiest place to battle a dragon and the place that is most likely going to have the least amount of damage done to it. The air’s balance of crisp air and smoke is changing. I begin to take short breaths to try and keep my lungs as clean as possible we have to squint to see things in the distance. The silence that accompanies these things makes everything three times eerier.    

TO BE CONTINUED.....

Northern Downpour by Panic At the Disco

^ This is the song I picked. It dose not violate any of McCarthy's rules, and is not a straight forward song.

'If all our life is but a dream
Fantastic posing greed
Then we should feed our jewelery to the sea
For diamonds do appear to be
Just like broken glass to me'

It is saying that if we lived in our dreams riches mean nothing, they are worth the equivalent of broken glass that washes up on the sandy beaches.

'And then she said she can't believe
Genius only comes along
In storms of fabled foreign tongues
Tripping eyes, and flooded lungs
Northern downpour sends its love'

There is a young girl that falls in love with someone. The only problem is he is from far away, and their love just cannot work out. When she realizes this she cries.

'Hey moon, please forget to fall down
Hey moon, don't you go down'

There it is probably saying that in the girl's dreams they can be together and she dose not want her dream to end because it is the only time they can be "together"

'The ink is running toward the page
It's chasin' off the days
Look back at boat feet
And that winding knee
I missed your skin when you were east
You clicked your heels and wished for me'

The two lovers write to each other but it has been a while since they have seen each other. They remember good times together on a boat and getting a windup doll. But they still long to be reunited again.

'Through playful lips made of yarn
That fragile Capricorn
Unraveled words like moths upon old scarves
I know the world's a broken bone
But melt your headaches, call it home'

The girl remembers the fun they had but understands that it is all fake. He is to far away for them to be happy. The yarn refers to a yarn doll, she can play with but it soon is not enough. And the way he tells her that he loves her become old and do not have the same meaning behind them. She is sad but this is the way it has to be.

'Sugarcane in the easy mornin'
Weathervanes my one and lonely '

They had a summer love. The sugar cane reminds them of each other and the love they shared.

'Hey moon, please forget to fall down
Hey moon, don't you go down
You are at the top of my lungs
Drawn to the ones who never yawn'

The boy doesn't want life to end even though it is a living hell without the girl. He is singing this song about her, telling her that he still loves her more than anything, but living without her, is bringing him more and more closer to his death.

On the Reservation

On the reservation…. What do YOU think about when you here that? Mr. McCarthy thinks about the T.V. show “No Reservations” hosted by Anthony Bourdain. I think about an Indian reservation, not the ones with tepees but the ones with casinos. I think an arid piece of land almost uninhabitable but because the first people understood Mother Nature and what she had to offer they somehow survived.

A reservation to me is a bad piece of land with little resources, where people of the same race live together.  Though on Indian reservations they live by different laws, I see communities within our everyday lives to be like reservations. Think about it, in China Town there are restaurants with menus solely written in Chinese. They also have a larger about of Buddhist temples and their churches are in Chinese as well. The neighborhood has to be brought up. I am pretty sure that they did not get the cleanliest most prosperous land out there.

It is the same for almost all communities because no matter how much people like to say it we are still segregated. Thought people do not think much about someone’s skin color, where groups of people live, that is significant. When people immigrate to a new country they try to find people they can relate to, thus communities what are build with the same race of people.

prop·a·gan·da Say it Right or Don't Say it at All

Propaganda what is propaganda?

WEBSTER SAYS: prop·a·gan·da

   [prop-uh-gan-duh] 

–noun

1.

information, ideas, or rumors deliberately spread widely tohelp or harm a person, group, movement, institution, nation, etc.

There was propaganda way back when you grandmother was born, when your great grandmother was born, when your great great great great great great greatygreat grandmother was born.  There has always been propaganda.  Many time you here about people using propaganda to get what they want, so in wars and in advertisements. 

In history we are talking about the First Indian Rebellion or as Americans call it the Sepoy Mutiny. This rebellion was started with propaganda.  There was a rumor going around that the bullets the British were giving the Sepoy were greased in cow and pig fat.  This posed a problem because to Hindu people, cows are sacred and to Muslims pigs are taboo.  This caused the people to revolt against the British.

Another war related form of propaganda but more resent is the war in Iraq.  America invaded because the government was saying that they had weapons of mass destruction.  And even after multiple spies came back saying they found none with all the propaganda the government had enough people behind them to go to war. 

One last thing that uses propaganda is ads.  I will zero in on McDonalds because I am sure that everyone knows then and has seen a commercial from them.  In all their ads they say it is fresh and healthy for you but that is a lie.  Everyone knows that is clogs ones arteries and increases their chances of plank buildup thus heart attacks.  And that the ingredients are pretty far from being fresh.  But in an advertisement they are not going to say that to get people to get people to buy their food. 

Graffiti Where Is It?

Graffiti is a way to express oneself and show off ones work to the world.   In the movie Beat Street I totally agree with Ramon’s point of view with tagging.  He does great things that have true meaning behind it while there are some that want to write their name quickly and be done with it.  Though I don’t condone writing on people houses without permission I do believe that there are areas that should be brightened up.  In France whenever I take the highway the walls around are always covers in people’s art! I honestly would rather see people spray painting whatever they want in colorfulness, and seeing each person one after another blend their thoughts with other’s thoughts, than a plain gray wall.  I also think it is so cool when we drive under a bridge and you can see graffiti all along it.  It amazes me that people can get there, probably be in mid air and still do such intricate designs. I miss seeing that.  Now in Chicago all I see are little black scribbles in marker on the train chairs and windows.  Occasionally when I walk around I come across really cool things and wonder who did it.  I feel like they have just showed me a little bit of their soul.

Attention is What Richard Wants?

Well for starters I do not think that Wright is looking for attention but in tries to find some form of entertainment in his boredom.  In the first situation the reader comes across is Write secluded in a room with no toys and forced to be quiet.  Obviously a little kid is going to get himself in trouble if no one watches over him.  As all children he is fascinated by the fire so he decided to go ahead and through things in it.  Not being satisfied he lights the curtains on fire.

The second situation is when he is wandering the streets.  His mother is out working and leaves her two little children by themselves.  Richard is curious about the bars and what the adults do in there.  All he does in peep in until someone grabs him and takes him in.   It was not his fault for getting drunk, it was the adults that are terribly bad and force a little six year old to drink.

In these two situations I was not the young Wright’s fault it was the parent’s fault for not having someone watch over her kids while away.  I understand it was hard for the single mother but she could have asked a kind neighbor to check in sometimes.  You cannot blame the child for being a child.  Richard was trying to find something fun to do and let his curiosity take charge without truly thinking out his actions.

'On Being a Mexican American'

I have recently read a story called “On being a Mexican American” by Joe I. Mendoza, which talks about Mr. Mendoza’s life as he grew up.  He was born in America but raised as a Mexican.  He lived in a total Hispanic neighborhood and spoke Spanish or Spanglish.  It was almost like he lived in Mexico.  As a child he didn’t feel the segregation until he got yelled at by a teacher for being on the wrong side of the school.  As Joe Mendoza grew up he became “Anglocized” because he moved to an all white neighborhood, learned perfect English, went into the U.S. Army, attended a university and married an Anglo woman.  He began to teach at an all white school and felt accepted but when he returned to his home town, he realized how much he had almost forgotten.  He realized that this is where he grew up this is where he was shaped into the person he is today. 

Where you were born, how you were raised, your friends are all things that shape you as a person and no matter how much you try you won’t be able to forget it; they will always be there.  I enjoyed this text because it is very true.  People may be born in America but they are not necessarily considered American in other’s eyes.  And it may be hard to see in you but I know that just by watching my brother I have seen him change friend crowds and I have observed a change in his attitude and how he thinks.  It may be because we are all getting older but it also can be because the people that we surround ourselves with change who we are.

King Still King

Martin Luther King’s day is just around the corner so it no coincident that today’s blog be about him.  Mr. King fought for equality; so that all people have the same right and you do not look at a race and think or them as lover or have stereotypes about them.  Martin Luther King started protest after protest, being jailed and beat to fight for something he believed in. 

Now have we have reached equality?  No, I do not believe equality has been reached it.  There are still stereotypes for each color or race; our neighborhoods are still segregated.  Maybe it is because people still subconsciously choose to stay amongst themselves.  Who knows, but look at the neighborhoods look at the churches; do you see the difference because I do. 

Equality means all the same not one over the other but even within the walls of our very high school it is not equal.  The last time we sophomores were in the theater and had and old Whitney Young student come and speak to us, you know what he said he talk about African Americans finally being able to improve he directed the whole conversation about African Americans.  He explained how they were smart how they could succeed, how they could be the best and he left every other race out.  Even our principal concentrates on black people.  Listen to her speeches and you will hear how much she venerates African Americans.  This is not equality.

Why must we boost other races higher that another.  Last I heard everyone at Whitney Young can have good grades.  It all depends now on how much that person cares and tries.  I don’t want to seem racist but if you look deep down its true.  Because of Martin Luther King we have taken great strides towards equality but maybe it’s a human default, someone must always be better.  It was not only the African Americans that were badly treated but other races as well.  It is not just a black and white picture.  People need to understand that EQUALITY is. 

Though you won’t see as much full blown racism anymore there are some things that still linger in people’s minds.  King would be proud of all the tolerance people have today and that it is okay to walk hang in hang with someone of another color.  But would people want to do it?  That is another story.  

What is an American

My American Lit teacher is making us read stories to make us think about “What is an American”.   My favorite story is the one I read tonight called “This Sacred Soil” by Seattle.  It talks about North America from a true native’s point of view.  Seattle shows no anger towards the white people even if they are killing off his people.  The text starts off with the Europeans coming over to America and Seattle is saying that their God loves them and protects them but rejects his red children, if they even are His children.  It goes on to explain the white man’s God had to write the rules in stone so that the people would not need to forget while for Seattle and his people religion is passed down from one generation to the other.  Also the natives honor their roots, their ancestors while the newcomers have left with almost no regret.  The European people do not believe in family and are ignorant of their surroundings.  They must learn how to respect what got them to where they are.  The whites may have many more people that Seattle and his tribe but God cannot protect them from the cycle; there will be a downfall and from that his people will take back the land that they love and ancient people will help for there is no death.  

White Lies - "Death"

I am not the biggest fan of White Lies; I have only heard a couple of their songs but of the ones I have heard are good.  “Death” is one of my favorites.  I also like the song that probably most people know called “Unfinished Business” by White Lie (obviously).  The beats in the song “Death” are pretty gosh darn nice and I like that it’s different from pretty much all the songs you now hear on the radio.  The vocals aren’t the main focus of the song; they are distant sounding as if you were under water calling you.  

I instantly liked the group because of their mellow sad songs and the main singer’s voice is deep these are other differences between other singers.  I know, I know, ME LIKE SAD SONGS?!?!?! CRAZY!  But tis true. I do like a lot of kinds of songs too but today I chose this one.  

listen : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nCnF6T59jm4&NR=1

jAY AND nICK

I think that the relationship between these two characters in The Great Gatsby is based on being fake.  I think that the only reason Jay Gatsby reaches out to Nick Carraway is because Gatsby found out that Carraway was “good” friends with Tom, Daisy’s husband.  I can see the relationship between them maybe get stronger into actually becoming friends but with Daisy now coming into the “actual” picture Nick may be pushed out.  I think that Daisy will look at Gatsby and see a new man not the same man she once new.  She may realize that she is no longer in love with him (so I am assuming for I am not completely sure if they were involved romantically).  This will bring Gatsby back to Nick for guidance into winning Daisy back.  Jay may have to reveal many of his secrets he has spent so much time and effort into concealing, to Carraway.  Their relationship will be pushed to braking point or be strengthened but all on the Jay’s fake pretence on just wanting to be friends for no particular reason.

(All of this is based on my speculation and thought from reading the first five chapters so I may be terribly wrong about all of this.  I guess I’ll just have to wait and see.) J

Golden Snowflake BATTLE *pew pew*

Sticky snow was falling from the gray sky

It was so cold I thought I might keel over and die

I needed a warm drink before I breathed my last

For I did not want to be a thing of the past

Once I was feeling alive and ready to go

We decided to build man made of snow

Gloves for our finger, we each took a pair

And we all emerged from our warm winter lair

                                                                         

Rolling and rolling, that was the game

Until we had three spheres almost the same

Stacking them on top, he needed something more

We figured it out and down the road we tore

We stole a carrot from a horse man’s carriage

Then we grabbed as much coal as we could manage

And snagged a few twigs on our run back in

The snowman looked good with all his fixins

Oh No! We forget the most important last touch

It was the hat that we hated so much

For it belonged to the witch named Mrs. Fing

Someone snuck in and grabbed the dreaded thing

As we put it on the snowman’s head

He awoke quickly and to our surprise said:

“I see you young twits and I must thank you

I’m alive once more, away with you I shall do”

Screaming we fled and watched our whole life fly by

As the angry fat snowman was shouting “DIE DIE DIE”

I guess I was wrong the cold would not be my death

But this crazy snowman, tweaked up on meth.

Granma came out with a six inch barrel

To shoot the beast that was so feral

There was a BOOM and an explosion of snow

And an evil snowman there was no mo’

Thankful For My Class Buddies

I am thankful for Maxwell O’Hagan (Most people call him Max) and Edmund Obermeyer (Most people call him Eddie).  If you don’t know, we all sit next to each other.  You may know because Mr. McCarthy is always saying Max and Eddie are cool and you may know me because of Mr. McCarthy’s WONDERFUL way to say my last name, “Boulababhab” J.  Max and Edmund  are always fun to talk to and accept me into their group even if I’m a pain sometimes.  Whenever I am unable to answer a question in class about The Scarlet Letter, The Crusible, or anything else I can always count on them to help me.  And the same thing happens goes for them, I’ll help them if they ever need help. 

I like everyone in our class because were all such cool people.  Right? Who doesn’t think so? Cuz if you don’t agree then you’re a fool!  Everyone around me are nice too.  If I ever need help I can always ask them as well.  I’m thankful to be in Mr. McCarthy’s 7^th period American Lit. class.  I hope Mr. McCarthy is glade to have us and I hope all of you are thankful to be in Mr. McCarthy’s class.  Plus I’m thankful for having Mr. McCarthy as a teacher.  He is a great teacher that gives us some freedom, so we don’t feel like we are chained to a desk.

I AM A PLOW

PLOW plow plow I may not need to plow my land but I do plow through other things.  I have to plow through homework after Pole vaulting so my mother doesn’t get in my face about not finishing homework fast enough and threaten to pull me off the team.  I have to plow through my thought because my mind can wander.  I have to plow through my feelings so people only see my happy side.  People probably do all of these things just like me.  What kind of plow are you what do you plow through every day?  Or maybe just once on a while?  But plows are also quite helpful tools.  I like to think I can be a helpful person but you never who I’m kind of a cluts and that not always a good thing :P.  I think everyone is “a plow” whether they like to admit it or not.  Plows come in all colors, shapes and sizes.  What plow are you?

Pros and What Cons :P

        I hear that may students are jealous of me because I am in Mr. McCarthy's class.  Many people don't like their American Lit class because their teacher is making them do pointless work; well i shouldn't say pointless but work in which the kids don't like, they are given work that they don't necessarily learn from.  In Mr. McCarthy's class we are given work that enhances what we are learning so it better sticks in our heads.
        I also like that we are able to lead discations within the class.  If we do not understand something we can easily ask and the whole class will attempt to explain or at least make clearer what we don't get.  I think it is a good learning environment but wherever there are pros there are bound to be cons too.
        The only thing I don't really like about the class is the period I have American Literature.  I have the class during seventh period which is Mr. McCarthy's last class of the day and because its his last class of the day and (so Mr. McCarthy tells us) we are the class that always has to ask questions and can't just do what we are told. I feel that with those too things put together, we really bother Mr. McCarthy and weather down nerves till one day Mr. McCarthy will snap....

Modern Slavery

When someone asks if there is slavery going on now most people will say no.  Well at least I would have said no, so I had to get my handy dandy online dictionary and look at the definition of slavery. This is what i found:

slavery  (ˈsleɪvərɪ)

— n

1.	the state or condition of being a slave; a civil relationship where by one person has absolute power over another and controls his life, liberty, and fortune
2.	the subjection of a person to another person, esp in being forced into work
3.	the condition of being subject to some influence or habit

 Number one and two was what I thought the definition would be.  I think of back in the day when African Americans where brought over and forced to work on plantations.  Number three made me understand the slavery is not always forcing someone to do your bidding.  So I came up with these modern day things that fall under the definition of slavery.  

The first one I think everyone would think of right away, at least if they watched or watch as much Criminal Minds, NCIS, Castle, or other murder series on T.V. human trafficking.  Human trafficking is a terrible thing that people do to poor innocent kids. They either bring them in from another country by promising them a better life in American or find kids that ran away or lure kids off.  Whichever way they get kids to follow them it doesn’t matter they drug the kids and use them for money.  

          The second modern day slavery thing I thought of was linked to the human trafficking.  It is being a slave to a drug.  The people in human trafficking are usually given a drug and even if they can escape the trafficking they are usually hooked on the drug.  That is not the only way to become a slave to a drug. Just by doing the drug you can become addicted. 

          So there are probably way more things people can think of for the modern day slavery but my imagination button is broken so I had to make do.  Hopefully it’ll be fixed for the next blog.

Puritans are a crazy bunch of people in my opinion sorry if you don’t think so and I’m sorry if you’re offended but what I think but seriously; come on! Well they think men are just so much better than women allllllll the time and well that kinda just bothers me. In “Adultery, in many states, is still a crime” by Jonathan Turley says that it is “illegal for a married woman to cheat on her husband and make it a crime for single women to have sex at all.” But it does not say anything about men cheating.  And might I remind you that this is present day 2010. What up with that dumb crap! Excuse me but like I don’t think that you should be punished for cheating at least not by the government. You may get a divorce and that punishment enough.  I have lived though my parent’s divorce. Though I don’t remember things about it I have recently stumbled upon letters my father had sent to and from with a friend.  These letters were about what happened during the divorce and the emotional strain it put on him.  The custody battle that was over max and I was the worst because it was overseas so my parents never knew where it would be and if the lawyers should be American or French. I think that is sufficient is punishment for cheating.

I think because Nathanial Hawthorn was born into Puritanism he believed that adultery was a crime that was punishable but after reading other book I feel that his views have changed and he like to write his opinion in his books while being a little bit more liberal then what he was razed to believe.

Puritan beliefs are still in play today but many have died down. The true hardcore puritans go by the same rules as long but I don’t cross paths with them very much so I don’t see their old laws.  

When did I know I was an American

The moment I knew then I was an American was when I finally understood what citizenship was, I could speak English and when I felt like I was home.  I moved to America when I was 3 years old; I was like every little kid, (yes I did grow and yes I’m still little no need to remind me) (O and Ps: my goal is to grow to 5 foot 5 inches. I think it’s quite reasonable) I wanted to have fun and hang out with friends.  As I got older and I would visit people in France and they would ask me “What am I” I would always say I’m American.  I felt that I was an American because that was where I lived and where my home was.  I link home is what you are.  Home is where you feel at ease.  Home is where you need to be.