9th Grade Golden Apples 2011
Contents An Excerpt from Technology Takeover By Daniel M.
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A True Terrorist By Sophia M. Page 4 The Good Old Days By Taylor S. Page 7 A Letter to Future Teachers By Jason K. Page 9 We Dream By Matthew W. Page 12 Sally Hansen By Olivia Lo Page 13 Grandma’s House By Emma W. Page 14 Dylan Peters By Norm M. Page 15
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An Excerpt from Technology Takeover By Daniel M.
Many modern electronic games are based on violent or inappropriate actions. Normally this would not be a problem because older people, who understand why the game is rated Mature, are playing it. However, when a ten-year-old kid, who shouldn’t be playing the game anyway, becomes obsessed with violently goring zombies, I think there’s a problem. The problem is that in many cases parents are not monitoring what game their child is playing. Video game designers have no problem with this. All they need to do is get a person addicted to their game, and then they can rest assured that this person will purchase the game’s sequel, a game eerily similar to the first. From what I understand, the games Grand Theft Auto and Grand Theft Auto 2 are almost exactly the same. All you have to do is run around, beat people up, and steal their car! For the life of me, I cannot understand how anyone would find this appealing in the first place. Yet every day, another thousand or so people log on to see if they can go up another level by stealing a couple more cars. The perfect life skill we want kids to learn!
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A True Terrorist By Sophia M.
Since the attacks on September 11th, Muslims have been discriminated against. Members of al Qaeda, who were Muslim, committed the attacks. And since then, a Muslim man or woman has become, what many people think of, as a terrorist. Now when someone sees a man with a turban, or a woman in a burqa, they will almost always think, ‘terrorist.’ That is discrimination. 9/11 was a tragic event, but the actions of those terrorists should not be affecting how anyone of the same race or religion is treated. These innocent men and women, whether they are American citizens or not, deserve to be respected and not feel like they have to hide their religion or ethnicity. In an interview on Fox News, Juan Williams, a correspondent for NPR,
now fired, said, “…When I get on a plane, I got to tell you, when I see people in Muslim garb, and I think they’re identifying themselves first and foremost as Muslims, I get worried. I get nervous.” Let’s be honest with ourselves—the last time you saw a man of darker skin with a turban and a beard, I’m sure you felt at least a little uncomfortable. When you ask almost anyone to draw a terrorist, they would probably draw a man or woman in Muslim garb. Though very few people will admit it, that is who we have come to think of as a terrorist. My last name, Mobayed, is Arabic, because my great-grandparents were from Syria, and it is a surname that many people would associate with Muslims. Because of that, when my sister or I go to airports our
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bags always get ‘randomly’ checked. When I visited the White House this past May, I was asked additional questions compared to the people who had gone through security before me, for them to secure my identity as a harmless American citizen. I had heard of discrimination, but had never before felt it first hand. I look nothing like our perception of the stereotypical Muslim, and yet because of my last name, I am treated as a suspect. I would never do anything to harm our country, but because of my last name, I was treated as if that was my intention. There is nothing wrong with being cautious, but the same precautions should be taken with everyone, not just the people who in some form resemble Muslims. We need to realize that anyone could be a terrorist. It does not matter how they look, or what their name is. A terrorist is someone who aims to hurt a country because they have some sort of resentment against that country. A terrorist has thoughts of death and destruction. And wearing Muslim garb, or having Muslim faith, does not cause or encourage these thoughts. Anyone could think this way, no matter where they’re from or what their religion is. By identifying a terrorist as a Muslim, we feel more secure because we know what to fear. However, nothing suggests that all or any Muslims, or people of the Middle East in general, supported the actions of al Qaeda. So why is it that we have come to hate and fear 25% of the earth’s population? Muslims, or people who resemble Muslims, are human beings. They should not be treated as outcasts in our world. They should not be discriminated against, and they deserve just as much respect as everyone else.
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Imagine what it is like to be a Muslim who chooses to wear the traditional Hijab in America today. Imagine the eyes full of fear staring you down almost everywhere you go. Imagine living in a world where very few people trust you, or feel safe around you. This stereotype was brought upon by our fear. And if it has not already, this fear will lead to completely unnecessary hatred. I ask you now to see past the stereotypes and no longer fear Muslims, because even though I only have the name of a Muslim, the taste I got of the discrimination faced by them every day is nothing anyone should feel.
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The Good Old Days By Taylor S.
As we grow up, play time turns into homework time, time-outs turn into detention, and the game “house” turns into life. Our thoughts are no longer preoccupied about our latest fantasy about being a princess locked in a tower, but filled with concerns about both the un-started paper and project due tomorrow. And you can forget nap time, we are lucky if we even get seven hours of sleep per night. So tell me, what’s the fun in growing up? When I was six, most of my days consisted of watching Dragon
Tails and Rocket Power and playing in my tree house. I could take naps whenever I was tired and did not have a care in the world. But now at the age of fourteen, I wake up at six every morning to go to school for seven hours, then come home where I would do two hours of homework, go to bed, then repeat the process all over again. Life was much simpler when my only real inconvenience was trying to get out of bath time. When I was seven, all I wanted to do was grow up so people would not treat me like a kid anymore. I wanted to be able to cross the street without holding my mom’s hand or have a bedtime after eight o’clock. I wanted my license so I could drive wherever I wanted and to be able to watch PG-13 movies. It’s funny how back then I wanted to grow up, but now I want to be a little kid again. I didn’t appreciate what I had as kid, and maybe I don’t appreciate what I have as a teenager. I always hear adults mutter the phrase, “What I wouldn’t do to be sixteen again”, which confuses me. Why wish to be sixteen with all the
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drama and pressure when you could go back to the carefree days of being six? But I guess being a teenager is better than being an adult. I don’t have to pay taxes or bills, have a permanent job, or raise a family of my own. Maybe when I’m sixty-five, I will wish for being sixteen again, too. Maybe life is easier when looking back. The struggles of fifth grade and the homework of sixth grade do not seem so bad from ninth grade. And when we are in college, having snow days and riding the bus will seem like a dream. I just wish I knew how good I had it back when I wanted to grow up. If only we could start old though, and grow younger. Then maybe we would learn to appreciate things when we have them.
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A Letter to Future Teachers By Jason K.
Dear Future Teachers,
As a student I felt it was fair to warn you...about me! Not that I am dangerous or aggressive, in fact I’m quite docile and timid for that matter, but I must warn you nonetheless. In time I have noticed that I get distracted from time to time, but only if I’m not engaged in the class; I take neat and detailed notes, but if during class there is a Q and A, please call on me! Please I beg of you! I like to answer questions and be helpful, but if I raise my hand thirty times and you don’t call on me I’m going to get bored and daydream for the rest of class about robots having a firefight in the corridor of a space ship. Secondly, please write your notes on the board, don’t just assume I’m taking notes as you lecture the class on the lymphatic system; I’m a student, not a courtroom dictator. Three, I’m not a textbook kind of guy. If you assign pages 268-295 The Cold War Crisis in our book, I’m not going to do it unless you assign some sort of assignment that requires I read it or there is a quiz the next day every time you assign reading. Also, don’t be one of those teachers that questions the students right after the student answers the question, especially if we seem unsure about it! Understand this one thing! Everything we learn in the reading you assign or assignment you give is not facts, it’s only opinions and theories until you confirm it in class the next day. So if I answer a question correctly and you still say “Why?” I will instantly change my answer as if you said,
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“That is completely wrong! Why would you even say that! Try again now!!!!!” I will stammer uncontrollably, I will tremble, I will spew hundreds of random words that sound correct to me hoping it’s the answer. So please hold off on that. Also stop answering our questions with another question! I ask these questions because I don’t know the answer! Rephrasing the question with an analogy will not help; it will only confuse me even more than when you asked “why” after I answered a question correctly. Also, occasionally I may answer a question somewhat unsure about something, and after I do please, oh please, don’t fire back: “Some confidence please!” Let me make you teachers aware of something that you may not know, by the way this applies to all students: students are unsure about everything in class. Every question/answer in class said by a student is in reality, a guess. Let me give an example. If we go home and have to review notes and reading for homework and we do it, hopefully we will absorb 60% of the information and remember 40% of that 60% the next day for class. In class if you ask a question about that 24% that we memorized, we will say our answer eagerly and with confidence. But the other 66% is another thing entirely. If we are asked a question directly without us raising our hand, we will be caught off guard, startled as if we just got flicked in the ear. We panic trying to access the deep recesses of our mind to find the answer to the question we thought you might have said. Time is running out, and we just blurt out an answer randomly, and it’s met with a long stare that we then retort with our rapid question answering as mentioned before.
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The other situation is that we raise our hands to answer a question we don’t know. We just have been sitting in the class for so long without being called on, that when we raise our hand we just start raising it automatically. Well, thank you for reading; I hope this letter has given you some insight into the mind of the student.
From, hopefully your favorite student because I constantly ask, Jason K.
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We Dream By Matthew W.
We dream about everything We dream about nothing We dream about life We dream about our problems and desires We have dreams so we know where we want to be We can dream about adventures, We have dreams about where we want to adventure Or maybe about people we love, Or maybe we dream about long lost memories we want to find. Or maybe we dream about what we want to do, You can’t choose what you dream about, You can choose what your dreams are, You dream because without dreams there is no point to move on to.
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Sally Hansen By Olivia Lo
It’s an extra layer, Another color, Another swipe of a shade. The streaks on nails. An accident: The cool touch, On your skin.
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Grandma’s House By Emma W.
Driving towards it The trees drift From tall evergreen To shorter bush Pavement turns From rough frost heaves To the crinkle of sand Thrown in waves on the road The smell drifts From high notes to low notes The salt And the sea The car stops Bare feet break free From unwelcome air to new Landing on shell and grass I am waiting Always waiting For the sea For Grandma’s house
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Dylan Peters By Norm M.
Dylan was a boy He was 18 Car crash He was my friend He was my teammate He taught me everything I knew We will always remember you Goodbye Dylan the snowboarder
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