Review of Today's Lesson - Making Judgments

Change to H/W sheet
Spend this evening collecting notes on your chosen person for the character sketch. You do not need to write the GRAAB sentences

Enjoy a more detailed explanation of the Sugihara story. How would you judge this man?


 
 
Enjoy these impressive poems from your classmates

A Spin to Victory by Sophie Smith

Joannie Rochette steps onto the ice,
Her sparkling dress makes her look rather nice.
Music starts playing and filling her ears,
As she pushes away her sadness and fears.

Her new polished skates make a peculiar sound,
And at that moment, her heart starts to pound.
She spun on the ice like a Hanukah driedel,
Reminding herself that a fall could be fatal.

Joannie decides to add a little flair,
So she stretches her leg high in the air.
The shouting and yelling of the crowd decreased,
And Joannie wished for bronze at the least

Lovely red roses landed by her side,
And her smile becomes really wide.
Her sparkling dress makes her look quite nice,
As Jonnie Rochette steps off the ice.



A Day to Remember
by Mary Louise Kenny
Early morning dew rested in the grass
Little laced sneakers scattered to class
A normal winter day, and so it began
As the monster schemed its horrible plan

Citizens looked up and wondered why
The faded grey clouds dotted the sky
Rain started to pour and danced on the road
As the earthquake in itself started to explode

The white shutters galloped through the tiny, poor town
As the faces of many began to helplessly frown
Their shoulders hung low, as they watched in fear
Hoping that a hero would be somewhere near

Soon, the heroes came with their love to share
Their big hearts opened with a desire to care
The memories were gone with all the debris
But the survivors that lived now shine with glee

The Soccer Shocker
by Scott


Iniesta sprinting in his black cleats
Trying his hardest not to fall in defeat
Johannesburg Africa is where his team Spain was playing
Before the game probably desperately praying

Spain and the Netherlands were in extra time
If one team screws up it would be a crime
The game was the world cup finals
The team that wins would become idols

Jubalani was the name of the ball
Fighting to get Jubalani a brawl
Vuvuyelos being buzzed by peers
Some of the players even grasping their ears

Suddenly Iniesta found the ball at his feet
Hoping to score so he wouldn’t be beat
He kicked the ball hoping to win their first title
The ball went in and the whole team was vital


Will you be ready for the Talent Show reward party...coming soon! Look at the talent we have!

Making Judgments

Here is another look at today's video on making judgments. How will you learn from the innocent mistakes of these children?  How will you judge in the future?

 Comments welcome on any aspect of today's session.

Week 6 H/W

Click on the link above to get your H/W sheet for next week

From Mrs. Ayeola
Use this video to help with your Spanish test

Copy/Paste your poetry for comment

I just wanted to share with you Austin F's. brilliant way of integrating poetry into her narrative writing. She also ended her piece with the line.

Falling for the Nutcracker
As I collapse, my face hits the hard wooden floor in the dark, silent backstage hallway and my tutu is crushed. A river of pain leaps into my ankle, and the pride in my heart becomes a sense of clumsiness. The fall makes the black walls spin like an optical illusion. I can't even move my foot to get up, or a sting shoots through my leg like a bullet grazing through a deer's heart. It feels like my leg was just smashed by a boulder.


"Remember," I thought about Maya Angelou's poem, "Shadows on the wall, noises down the hall, life doesn't frighten me at all." Lying there, I am as helpless as a newborn baby even though I am eight years old. "How have I even ended up in this mess?" I ask myself.

Anne Frank + Southeast Region Narrative

Check out the link below to recap the video from today's session on Anne Frank

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=um3umnwgK3k
Will your narrative poem capture the emotion of  your event?


Enjoy Nick's Southeast region narrative below

From the marble-cutting mill, to the canal-navigation plane, and my most prized accomplishment, the “Clermont,” I have certainly come a far way in life. At the age of thirty-five in 1800, I thought that accomplishing everything in life was already complete. That was true until “Clermont,” my first successful steamboat, was created. By the way, my name is my name is Robert Fulton, the inventor. In 1793, I concentrated on steam navigation. Writing books on canal navigation was my occupation in 1796. Seven years later, the idea of inventing what eventually became the steamboat came into my mind. My first attempt at launching a steamboat with the support of Chancellor Livingston was on the Seine, a very large river between two parts of France, was not entirely successful. The boat immediately collapsed and plummeted to the bottom of the river like sand through an hourglass. Red in the face, I watched the horror of the boat tumble to the floor of the river. The odor of the oil burning in the air with the rest of the ship was a sure indication of the devastating moment, and from Livingston’s panicky expression, it was obvious he felt like me at the time. Despite this horrible failure, I had to persevere.



In 1807, I decided it would be the right choice to design a new steamboat. Newer wooden planks, a better engine, and a new supply of oil were essential to the ship’s success. My speedy hands began to assemble the components of the unfinished steamboat. After a while, my hands were still, the steamboat was unfinished, and my mind was nothing but a swirl of uncomfortable confusion. There was no Chancellor Livingston to assist me this time. Ten months later, my masterpiece was finished. Looking back at the steamboat reminded me of the sweat trickling down my back as I diligently finished the ship. I thought to myself, what name would suit my steamboat the best? My sister’s name is Clara, and my dog’s name is Monty, so what if those names blended together? That was it. The name would be “Clermont.”


Two tan transferors on a barge, Jim and Charles, transferred “Clermont” all the way from Pennsylvania to the Hudson elegantly like a feather scraping the top of the water. My goal was to chug “Clermont” all the way from the Hudson to Albany, New York. It was going to take approximately thirty hours. By the time I reached the Hudson, my feet climbed onto the wooden boards of the “Clermont.” Nervously, my sweaty hands grabbed the wheel of the boat.


The “Clermont” pushed off of the dock. The paddle of the bolt jolted forward as the “Clermont” came to life in only a quick moment of time. The engine roared as the steam whistled. Proud as a peacock, my head stuck out of the window to take in the crisp, New York air and the smell of steam and oil from the “Clermont.” The crowd was encouraging me to go on right before the steamboat left the colossal river of New York.


No longer in the Hudson, “Clermont” chugged its way towards Albany. The steamboat finally reached its destination. The crowd roared with excitement, and history knew that every bit of this moment would be savored into educational textbooks for the rest of time.