Intolerance Does Not Define or Deter Me

Transcription

I W
R I T E
T H E
F
U T U R E
2011-2012
A
N T H O L O G Y
A Call to Action, to Write, to Go Public.
I Write the Future is sponsored by the California Writing Project.
2011-2012 I W RITE
THE
F UTURE A NTHOLOGY
I NTOLERANCE D OES N OT D EFINE
Table of Contents
Introduction
I Write the Future Campaign 2011-2012
Like Children
One Friendship–A Lifetime Lesson
Stereotyped
Sarina
Freedom to Love
Judgment
Don’t Judge Me
Racism
Perceptions
I Am Who I Am
What They Call Me
Hues
Faces of Discrimination
Reasoning
Funny or Flagrant
Fearing to Be Heard
Unconditional Troubles
Mexican
Why Blame Hispanics
A Glimpse of Ourselves
From Intolerance to Acceptance
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Bradley Dorsey
Hannah Chu
Janaysha Lyons
Cassandra Garrison
Angelica Wilson
Asha Abdirahim
Azalei Echano
Nicholas Pryor
Mark Olesco
Marisa Vinson
La Houa Moua
Harlyn Williams
Christian Pelayo
Kevin Maranon
Borna Poursheikhani
Sakura Komatsu
Diego Contreras
Karina Reyes
Rudy Aguilar
Andrew San Jose
Anonymous
OR
D ETER M E
2011-2012 I W RITE
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Introduction
Almost two years ago now, the California Writing Project (CWP) launched the I Write the Future
campaign. With the help of an amazing group of teacher leaders, who are all a part of the Improving
Students’ Analytical Writing (ISAW) program, and the input of a remarkable team of students, we set
out a lofty, but somewhat amorphous , goal of supporting high school students to use writing to address
intolerances, such as discrimination, racism, homophobia, bullying, and cyberbullying, propose
solutions, and advocate for changes that will write a very different future than our present.
At the outset, we thought the campaign might end up being just an opportunity to write for a small
scholarship award. But as the year progressed and as students and teachers became more involved
and more energized, I Write the Future grew in power and scope. Embedded now in this campaign
are both local and statewide publication and scholarship opportunities, and no longer is the goal
amorphous. We have put a laser focus on helping students realize they have a voice, they have
agency, they have power, and individually and collectively, they can make change and use their
writing to do so.
For year two of this campaign, we built an online I Write the Future Forum so that students could respond to
informative, often provocative, articles and interviews about these issues and dialog with peers across the
state. It is exciting to see how many of those honest, lively conversations have found their way into local
advocacy projects and how many of them were the seeds of the essays or poems that make up not one, but
three anthologies of student writing.
Last year 70 students submitted writing, and we published the writing of 27 students. This year over 400
students submitted writing, and we had the difficult task of selecting some when we wanted to figure out a
way to publish all of them. After many readings, we chose almost 60 pieces to be a part of three
anthologies: When Intolerance Turns on Self; Intolerance Does Not Define or Deter Me; and Anti-Bullying Steps:
Awareness to Understanding to Empathy to Action.
We aimed to include writing from ISAW students across California—students who mirror our state in
terms of culture, community, economics, and language, as well as students who are from all grade and
ability levels in school. After all, we believe every student has stories to tell, perspectives to write, and
issues to research.
In this way, CWP fights against an insidious educational intolerance—that only
certain students are smart enough to be allowed to write at all, especially to write about their own ideas
and concerns. We believe that learning to write effectively is essential to becoming a literate, informed,
problem-solving citizen, and that all students, no matter what their starting points are as writers, can
learn to write by exploring their own ideas and interacting with the ideas of others in a supportive
community that includes teachers, fellow students, and members of their family and community.
Such support nurtured the writers who helped shape these publications. In them you will find writing
that is painfully honest, keenly observant, and persuasively direct. Writers include students who are
not only newcomers to California; they are newcomers to our country and also to English. For other
writers, school and writing are daily struggles. For still others, writing is like breathing, and they put in
extra work on their pieces after school and online.
What do these writers share? They all took the risk that is an integral part of publishing. Going public is
a writer’s act of hope, of faith, that his or her ideas and perspectives will find a responsive reader. We
invite you to be those readers. Dive into all three publications, explore the students’ writing, celebrate
their progress, and help CWP shine a bright spotlight on their promise and potential.
Jayne Marlink, Executive Director,
California Writing Project
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A Call to Action, A Call To Write, A Call To
Go Public for Students of ISAW Teachers
T HE I SSUE :
Sadly, we don’t have to work very hard to see, hear, or read
about instances of intolerance today—from fear and
prejudice because of differences in religion, culture, or
language; to discrimination based on race, gender, disability,
or sexuality; to name calling and bashing, bullying, and now
in this digital age, cyber bullying. Just one or two words can
bring images of intolerance to mind. Immigration. Illegal
immigrant. Homophobia. Racial profiling. Muslim. Retard.
Short Bus. Any and all racial slurs.
If you could “write the future,” and make important
changes, what issues of intolerance would you address, what
strategies would you use to make change, and solutions
would you propose?
I
A CALL
TO
T H E
ACTION, A CALL
FOR
TO
STUDENTS
OF
FUTURE!
WRITE, A CALL
ISAW TEACHERS
TO
!
GO PUBLIC
T HE I SSUE :
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T HE CALL TO ACTION , TO WRITE , TO GO PUBLIC :
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5'<(!0(/#+%3/1!+H'<,H+&<$1!#)E!/KL'F/(/E!H#)E4Y!!!!
T HE CALL TO ACTION ,
TO WRITE , TO GO PUBLIC :
S OME QUESTIONS TO GET YOU THINKING AND WRITING :
The California Writing Project invites you, the students in the
classrooms of teachers participating in the Improving Students’
Analytical Writing Program, to write and go public about the
issues of intolerance you are concerned about, that call you to
action, that call you to problem-solving.
You can write your own stories and your own experiences, you
can write observed experiences, or you can write fiction. All can
be used to describe the future you want to see. You can write
persuasive pieces—editorials, commentaries, “My Turn” essays,
argumentative essays, saturation reports, or problem solution
essays. Poetry, spoken word, letters, reflective essays, memoirs,
and digital stories will work as well.
WRITE
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I WRITE THE FUTURE! IS SPONSORED BY THE CALIFORNIA WRITING PROJECT.
"#$%&'()%#!*(%+%),!-('./0+1!2)%3/(4%+5!'&!"#$%&'()%#1!6789!:/#(4+!;3/)</=><%+/!7?71!@/(A/$/5!";!8BC6?D7?B?
You choose the genre, the issue, and the message. Writing the future is in your creative, thoughtful, and empowered hands!
S OME QUESTIONS TO GET YOU THINKING AND WRITING :
◊ What intolerance have you experienced, observed, or read about? What instances of intolerance stay in your mind and heart?
◊ Are there times you observed intolerance, wanted to do or say something, but remained silent? What happened and what do
you wish you had done instead?
◊ Have incidents of intolerance and discrimination increased, or are they just more visible in our televised and networked world?
◊ Are there ways to educate people who hold irrational fears of those they think are just too different from them? At what point can
we find commonalities and shared humanity?
◊ Are the intolerant among us resorting to more violent acts? What can we do to make schools and communities safer places for
everyone?
◊ What can we do to change our present and write a very different future?
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LIKE CHILDREN
by Bradley Dorsey
Looking back upon the past
To when we were all young
Our vision clear and sharp
Able to see through outward appearance
And look past religion and social class
Only seeing one’s true character
Accepting of all, rejecting none
Not caring whom we associated with
And as time went on we matured
But in reality we moved backwards
Because with age that vision blurred and faded
It became clouded with judgment and hate
We separated ourselves off into groups
None of us willing to mix like oil and water
Going against the very values our country holds
The ideas of freedom and justice
We adopted the flawed values of our parents
Who in turn gained them from generations before
Influenced by the cruel heritage of a corrupt lineage
Sadly continuing this vicious cycle of hate
Instead of moving forward we stay stuck where we are
Which is where we will stay forever
Because advancement comes only through equality
Peace only through acceptance
We must realize we can break the pattern of prejudice
And can decide to reject past beliefs of discrimination
We must look to the little kids
Reflections of what we once were
Before we made changes for the worse
Before we were corrupted by prejudice
Only then will we move on
We must all be like children
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WRITER’S STATEMENT
I chose to write on the topic of discrimination and prejudice. I chose this topic because it is something that
I’ve witnessed throughout my life and have seen the negative effects that it has on everyone. By reading
my piece, I hope that readers will realize that this is an issue that practically everyone faces or has faced in
some form or another. I also hope that they will see it as something that must be stopped in order to bring
about change and progress.
ABOUT THE WRITER
Bradley is a junior at Morse High School who plans on studying computer science at UCLA.
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ONE FRIENDSHIP–A LIFETIME LESSON
by Hannah Chu
It was the perfect November morning; the sky was light blue and the freshly fallen leaves had just begun to
line the sidewalk. I walked along the playground eating my little bag of holiday grapes; I looked up at the
beautiful wisp in the clouds as the sun just showed its face. The bell soon rang, and I ran back to class. My
fourth grade teacher then announced that a new girl, Katelyn, would be joining our class. I was so excited
that I could hardly keep my composure.
I sat nervously and anxiously in my seat, eagerly dreaming of a new friend to play with. It seemed like
forever until Katelyn walked into our class. When she walked in, my eyes widened and my jaw dropped
as I observed Katelyn’s facial and bodily features. Her eyes did not see straight and her face was slightly
tilted. Her jaws were not aligned, which caused her slurred speech. Katelyn walked a bit crookedly and
her strides were not balanced. I then realized she was a physically challenged and slightly Downsyndrome girl. Once she entered the room, it seemed as if my whole class turned our heads and did not
bother to care for her anymore. Many of my classmates completely ignored her and acted as if she didn’t
exist; they openly cringed away from Katelyn like she had some sort of contagious disease. I remember
my friends mercilessly pointing and laughing at Katelyn. If a popular and athletic girl had walked in that
door, I believe that our reactions would be a lot different than our reactions to Katelyn.
For the first few days after Katelyn’s arrival, I felt guilty seeing Katelyn always sitting alone, but I admit
that I lacked the courage to talk to her. During recess time one day, Katelyn approached me and kindly
greeted me. I, trying to seem friendly, said hello back. Katelyn went further to ask how I was and what I
did over the weekend. It was not until Katelyn broke the ice in our friendship that I opened up to see who
Katelyn really was. Katelyn had something special in her that people could not tell from her appearance
“Why is your face crooked?” interrogated a classmate of mine a few weeks later.
Katelyn smiled and answered in a quiet yet understanding manner, “I don’t know. I was born like this.”
To my surprise, Katelyn did not even seem to have a bit of anger in her at all. Katelyn did not react by
rolling her eyes, sticking her tongue out, or making a frown; she kept her composure and just walked off. I
was plain shocked; I did not know how to respond to my classmate’s intolerant remark. Many questions
surfaced in my mind, “Was I supposed to yell back at him, was I supposed to run and tell my teacher, was I
supposed to walk off with Katelyn, or was I supposed to sit there and watch?” For the rest of the school day, I
hung my head in shame because I felt that I failed to stand up for Katelyn at the moment. I finally decided
that I needed to tell my teacher. I trembled nervously as I told my teacher of my classmate’s remark
towards Katelyn. She gave me a hug and thanked me for being honest. She explained to me that we need
to accept each other no matter how different we all are. I only nodded.
After recess the next day, the same classmate went up to Katelyn and said arrogantly, “The teacher said I
was supposed to say sorry. So, sorry for whatever I did.” My classmate did not even pretend to show any
remorse as he apologized.
Katelyn’s response was, “Oh, it’s okay.” Katelyn walked off as if nothing had ever happened.
I went home and cried on behalf of Katelyn because the little that I did in telling the teacher would not
stop the teasing that Katelyn would suffer all her life. I knew that it wasn’t the first, nor would it be the
last time that Katelyn would be teased by someone. People just did not give Katelyn a chance to show
them who she was beyond her physical limitations.
As the school year progressed, Katelyn and I always spent our recesses and free time together. We became
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such good friends that she would be in my group for projects and field trips. She was always upbeat—
nothing ever seemed to get her down.
As Katelyn and I became closer friends, she described to me about her family life. Her family had
relocated several times due to her father’s job transfers; therefore, Katelyn had been to many schools.
Katelyn was also very close to her family. Many of her siblings have graduated and already moved away
from her home. Everyday, her older sister, who was a sophomore in high school, would hold Katelyn’s
hand as they walked to our classroom. Before Katelyn’s sister would leave, Katelyn would give her a hug.
The close bond that Katelyn had with her family made a huge impression on me.
Katelyn was a very quiet and reserved student in the classroom. Despite her quietness, Katelyn showed
many gestures of kindness, which many people did not notice. She would clean up after others and give
away her lunch to anyone who forgot his/her lunch. Whenever Katelyn was not working, she would also
offer to help the teacher.
Into the third trimester of the school year, she told me that her family was moving again and she would be
going to a different school. At that moment, I felt as if my heart broke. I would be alone again during
recess. Everyday, I treasured the time that I was able to play with her. We would sit at the picnic tables
and snack, or we would walk around the playground.
That dreaded day of her moving finally came. I felt a void at school because there was something about
her that always brightened my day. Looking back on my fourth grade year, I regret not reaching out to
Katelyn when she first arrived, but I am glad that I experienced our unique friendship. Too often we get
caught up in our own cliques and groups of people who are “like” us, and miss someone, from our
outward observations and judgments, may not seem like us.
Although I only got to know Katelyn for a short few months, her smiles and her love that she generously
showed towards others will never leave my memory. She taught me a lesson that no matter how different
we may appear on the outside, it is the inside that counts. Katelyn gave me a whole new appreciation for
children with disabilities—that they have so much to offer, yet it may not be in such a tangible way. I am
indebted to her because, through our friendship, I received much more than I could ever give back.
A famous writer, Maya Angelo, once wrote, “Love recognizes no barriers. It jumps hurdles, leaps fences,
penetrates walls to arrive at its destination full of hope.” Katelyn never let discrimination or intolerance
become a stumbling block for her. Katelyn lived with an undeniable courage and unspeakable joy.
Eight years later, I know that Katelyn is still making a difference in people’s lives—a difference that
changed my life forever.
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I wrote this piece because my friendship with Katelyn made a tremendous impact on my life. She opened
my eyes to see that the world is not only about ourselves and our group of friends, but it is about reaching
out to others around whom we are not always comfortable. She taught me to accept everybody despite
differences we may encounter. When we see children with disabilities, we often seem afraid or scared to
be around them, but as I learned how to communicate with Katelyn, I learned that my view of the world
was so narrow. I feel indebted to her because she taught me so much about myself and about the world.
Being able to see the struggles she went through and the tough discrimination she had to endure everyday
help me understand that I often make premature judgments of others. Although I only got to know
Katelyn for less than half a school year, her optimistic and sparkling attitude enriched my life, and I
wanted to have that same attitude.
As readers read my writing, I hope that they will grasp a new outlook on children with disabilities. I hope
that my readers will feel touched by the writing about a single friendship I experienced. I learned that if
we took every opportunity to get to know a child with disabilities, a whole world would open up to us.
We need to realize that disabled children have so much to offer, but too often, we don’t take the time to
listen.
ABOUT THE WRITER
Hannah is currently a sophomore at Folsom High School. She enjoys reading and writing; she also enjoys
playing her cello and piano. She is active in the youth ministry at her church. She hopes to major in
dentistry.
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STEREOTYPED
Dark skin, mixed girl, not accepted
You aren’t light enough, so you’re rejected
Society’s criticism harshly crashing against you
Because apparently, your genes didn’t follow through
No group, no category
No click, no territory
You’re abnormal
So you only face turmoil
When you try to tell your story, accused of telling lies
“Your skin is too dark to be mixed!”
So you are quickly denied
I myself have had this trouble
“You’re a lie” they say on the double
They’ve yank my hair to see if it’s real
They just can’t believe, so they have to feel
Society on a constant search for proof
Evidence is what they look for
Because what you claim couldn’t possibly be the truth
“You shouldn’t look the way you do”
They stare in disbelief
A Puerto Rican Dominican black baby
With hair that curls and is so wavy
And freckles sprinkled on her skin
So rich in melanin
I now replay the words of my dead father
“Madi listen. Amor de la piel en su!”*
And papa, to this day, I still do.
*Love the skin you’re in
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OR
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by Janaysha Lyons
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Being born in the West Indies and then coming to America was like moving to a different planet. The
land of opportunities that my dad frequently spoke about was, in reality, a land of stereotypes and
misrepresentations.
The tolerance I chose to write about is the discrimination that darker-skinned biracial face. Many people
assume that all biracial girls are light-skinned with long hair hanging down their backs. This stereotype
personally affects me because I am Puerto Rican, African American, and Dominican. When people ask
me about my ethnicity, they are shocked. I have heard responses such as, “You are too dark to be
mixed.” I have even been accused of having fake hair and drawn on freckles.
The message I want my readers to gain from reading my poem is that categorizing someone or a group of
people solely based on assumptions is basically erasing their story and silencing them. And I want those
who are targets of this type of discrimination to realize that they should love themselves regardless of what
others may think or believe.
ABOUT THE WRITER
Janaysha is a junior at Morse High School who loves track. She plans on attending college on a track
scholarship and becoming a mechanical engineer.
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SARINA
by Cassandra Garrison
There she was. Seven layers of clothing, blond hair, no taller than four foot eleven, and a paler
complexion than the moon itself. There she was, my friend. That's what I thought of as my friend, Sarina,
sat beside six years after our first meeting on the school bus. Her eyes were full of tears, as she laid her
head on my shoulder.
I couldn't help but want to comfort her, in her time of need, but I didn't know how to make society behave
itself. Nor could I erase the horrid words spewed at her so passionately by our classmates. Things had
changed amongst familiar faces. Those who once exchanged words now turned their backs at what was
different. That which was beautiful. Sarina was what they had turned their backs to.
Rumors had sprouted up, while I was away. Of course, they ended up being correct on this one thing. Her
sexual orientation was the thing in question. Of all things to mess with, it had to be my sweet, timid
companion. She had worked hard to show people who she was. Sarina had excelled in her artistic
abilities, dressed in a way that was both modest and appealing, took advanced placement courses, and she
was a great person. However, in the end, all of this was ignored because she had never dated a guy, nor
did she care to. Sarina was a lesbian, and that was the only thing people seemed to care about.
They just didn't know her as I did. They didn't see the heart-breaking loneliness in her eyes. Their slander
was more than "just a joke," in her ears. Their pushing and shoving was so much more than "an accident,"
to her bruised arms. My friend deserved so much more kindness from the world.
Being that these sleazy, slinking, teenagers had taken special care to torment her in private; I never
actually saw anything beyond the after effects of their torture. I had wanted to hurt them. To make them
feel the pain of my sister-like comrade, in every way possible. I know that there are different belief
systems, but why couldn't they just accept her for the other wonderful qualities that she presented to the
world? It never made sense to shun someone for one thing. If they so ardently disapproved of Sarina,
could they at least be civil to her? If they could just dwell in her life, for a day, would they stop treating her
so cruelly? I did not know that for sure either.
As she continued crying, I put my arm around her, to let her know that I was there for her, and would be.
I rested my head upon hers. I could almost feel the hurt radiating through her shuddering form. I wanted
to cry with her. Nothing has ever hurt me more than seeing her in pain in that single moment.
"Sarina? Would you like to come stay the night at my house?" I asked her this as she gave a sniffle of
defeat to her emotions.
"Yes, please," she replied softly, her head still resting.
I gave her a tight hug as the school bus hurled onward, toward this establishment of learning. I wondered
what the day held for her as we parted ways upon arriving to the dreaded destination.
Six. Seven. Eight. I waited for her to show up at my house. Concern consumed me. Why hadn't she
showed up yet? Before I could continue my thoughts, there was a knock on my door. I practically threw
myself at the handle of my entrance and opened the portal wide. There she was, again. But this time, I
didn't see the little girl at the bus stop in fourth grade. Instead, I saw a young woman who needed
someone to listen. I saw a woman who had been hurt emotionally, beyond repair. I beckoned for her to
tell me her sorrows, to tell me the tales that haunted her, and to trust me.
Sarina, no longer just a friend, but my sister, sat by my side and spoke of her secrets. She told me
everything that troubled her and, as we were lying down to sleep, she whispered my name in the darkness.
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D ETER M E
"Cassie?"
"Yes, Sarina?" I wondered what else she could possibly say to me, after an hour of confessions.
"Can I tell you one last thing?"
"Of course you can, Sarina," I replied.
"Cassie, you were my first, real, friend. You are the only reason that I have the friends that I do. No one
ever talked to me before you came around," she said softly.
I felt a lump in my throat and I knew that I was going to cry. I turned on my side and just started to let the
tears flow silently. It was both a beautiful and saddening thought.
Did I really have that influence? Did it really only take one person to guide acceptance?
Under the right circumstances, it's quite possible that people would follow such an example.
Apparently she felt that my friendship was enough to change things, even slightly. Maybe it is. Perhaps if
each victim had one savior, to place a light at the end of the tunnel, tolerance could be achieved. One
more person would be spared the maddening thoughts that accompany their torment.
One day, these victims will be able to stand alongside their previous enemies and no longer fear their
presence. They will look at each other and know that all is understood and forgiven. All past thoughts will
remain behind and their comprehension of one another will be greater.
Maybe, one day, people will find and understand their own Sarina, and realize how the unique are the
very essence of beauty. Someone to be an inspiration and delight to enchant their lives and add purpose to
their actions. I know Sarina was for me.
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F UTURE A NTHOLOGY
OR
D ETER M E
The beauty of constantly relocating is that you meet a variety of wonderful characters. There are those
who blend together in a forever blurring swarm of silver fish, and then there are those memorable beings,
those brightly colored wanderers on the other side of the sea. Along the road of life, I met a sweet girl in
elementary school who had a profound effect on my person, as we grew up. Although I continued
moving, we kept in touch and had developed a sisterly bond over the eight years we have known each
other. Unfortunately, my kind friend fell on hard times while I was away in California. She was terribly
depressed and was tormented because she hadn’t dated anyone. When I came back, she was still haunted
by those that didn’t understand. However, she appeared to be happy just knowing that she now had
someone to listen and a sanctuary in which she could hide.
It is because of her that I wrote Sarina. My friend is now more like family and I am very protective of her.
She is an important person in my life. I can’t picture her not being in it, even for a second, and I want
people to know that it is not okay, under any circumstance, to mess with someone who is different.
Whenever people read Sarina, I want them to place themselves in my position. I want them to imagine, to
picture, their loved ones going through all the categories of pain: motional, physical, and psychological, so
they can relate to, and feel, and know that their actions cause more harm than they think. After they read
this, I want them to do everything in their power to help anyone in Sarina’s situation, or anything similar.
As cliché as it sounds, it is important to be the person who stands up. No one deserves to be hurt.
Everybody should have, at least, one person to care about them. Hopefully, they will become the comfort,
not the hurt.
ABOUT THE WRITER
Cassandra is a senior at Corning High School.
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FREEDOM
TO
OR
D ETER M E
LOVE
by Angelica Wilson
How can there be freedom of speech, but no freedom to love?
Why is my lifestyle considered a sin to the man above?
When I go out in public I have to think twice about holding hands
Not because I am a man with another woman
But because I am a man with another man
I have had it with the world, and this hatred needs to stop
Don't you know that by judging, your fire will be just as hot?
People quickly change, and love you from afar
When eventually finding out what your TRUE COLORS are
I don't know about others, but I'll truly be free
The day the world understands that I'm just fine simply being me
Why should it really matter when it’s not even your choice?
Shouldn’t these decisions come from only one voice?
And who are you to try, to speak up for me?
I believe everybody deserves some form of liberty
I can't even get married in most U.S. cities
Discrimination fuels these laws, simply a pity
Citizens ensure that these laws are strongly enforced,
But isn't it also a sin for man and woman to divorce?
People fall into so-called love and quickly abuse the right
But why should homosexuals have to continuously struggle and fight?
I don’t want to be ridiculed by another
Nor hear the negativity passed from one "Christian" to the other.
I just want to live
I just want to be free,
May there be peace, justice & equality for YOU & ME.
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OR
D ETER M E
Every day I deal with hearing and seeing the discrimination of homosexuals. I am often infuriated by the
unfair treatment of homosexuals because I actually have a couple of males in my family who are gay,
including a cousin that I am very close to. He and I grew up together and have created a strong bond. We
are like best friends.
A few years ago, I found out from his mother that he was gay and that his classmates were always picking
on him at school. He often came home sad and depressed because of the way he was treated. He
eventually grew tired of all the name calling, jokes, and rumors that were said about him. So one day he
went home and tried to commit suicide. When my auntie called me to tell me how he tried to take his
life, I was hurt and saddened. I felt as if an arrow had pierced my heart. I berated myself for not being
there for him like he had always been there for me. After talking to him, I discovered that he believed he
was an unwanted figure in this world and that he didn’t belong here. I knew that something had to
change.
I decided to write my poem as If I were in his shoes as a way to convince people to stop discriminating
against homosexuals. I hope that after reading my piece, people will realize that love has no gender. If
you love somebody unconditionally, then it shouldn’t matter what gender you choose to love.
ABOUT THE WRITER
Angelica is a junior at Morse High School. She is a talented athlete who plans to attend college on a
basketball scholarship.
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2011-2012 I W RITE
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F UTURE A NTHOLOGY
JUDGEMENT
While holding her belly she tries to hide
From the horrid stares as she walks by
Her traumatized eyes wishing this would end
Too humiliated to face those she called “friends”
“What a whore they say. You stupid little twit”
She cries and dissembles and is torn into bits
The next bell rings, and so does the routine
Teachers watch and say, “She’s only thirteen”
Just when she thought everyone had gone
She looks at her bump knowing she has to be strong
Her future uncertain with no recourse but God
No shoulder to cry on, her baby daddy’s a fraud
He denies with disgust as he gazes upon her
She weeps and curses at her ex-lover
As she whimpers in a corner, she can’t help but reminisce
That night she snuck out for a party she couldn’t miss
He gave her a kiss, and then he offered her a drink
Poisoned with a pill, her mind slowly starts to sink
Hours later, she wakes to a hospital scent
Her mind full of melancholy, she starts to repent
Her virginity is gone and so is her pride
But still she is smiling; she sees the love in disguise
As she wipes her last tear, she begins to understand
This is not the life she wanted, it didn’t go as planned
So when you see this young girl, don’t judge her by her fate
Because like many others in the world, she is a victim of date rape
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OR
D ETER M E
by Asha Abdirahim
2011-2012 I W RITE
THE
F UTURE A NTHOLOGY
OR
D ETER M E
The intolerance I decided to write about was the discrimination pregnant girls face from their friends,
classmates, and their teachers. Thousands of young teens hide their bellies with baggy clothes or drop out
of school for fear of rampant rumors and judgmental gawks. And this type of abuse can occur through
their entire pregnancy.
A close friend of mine was date raped. She confided in me about the hurtful slurs that came her way and
how even her teachers whispered things about her. People said really bad things about her without
considering her emotional pain and what she had to go through every day. Date rape is not often thought
about when seeing pregnant girls. Some people misjudge these girls as being sluts or whores. We, as a
community, fail to realize as young adults that we must accept one another because these victims are
people who are looking for happiness and just want to be loved.
By the end of this poem, I hope my readers feel remorseful for the misconceptions they may have made
about a pregnant teen. Readers should hopefully think twice before gossiping or judging a person when
don’t have the background knowledge or the facts about the situation. They should think before they
speak about an individual they hardly know.
Writing this poem wasn’t easy. But the fact that there are females in the world suffering every day and
constantly feeling anxiety about the thoughts and opinion of what this person may say or what this so
called “friend” might think or say made me think. Why should I let these tormenters get this gratification?
It is time that we stand up as a people and take action because no one deserves this harassment. No one
deserves to be intimidated at school or anywhere else. And most importantly, no one deserves to feel a
great amount of sadness because of negative thoughts that they do NOT deserve.
ABOUT THE WRITER
Asha is a sophomore at Morse High School. She hopes to attend UCSD and major in nutrition.
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2011-2012 I W RITE
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F UTURE A NTHOLOGY
DON’T JUDGE ME
OR
D ETER M E
by Azalei Echano
As a kid, I grew up learning about princesses being swept away by chivalric princes living happily ever after.
And that was how the world was supposed to work, men being the strong and brave figures in a relationship
and women being the helpless damsels in distress. It seems like a comfortable concept for women if you ask
me, not having to lift a finger and let the men cater to your every need. But life is anything but close to a
fairy tale and we need to wake up to the harsh realities of life in the present, the year 2012. It disgusts me at
the very thought that men think they are “better” than women solely based on gender.
One of the most sexist stereotypes out there is that men are physically stronger and athletic in comparison to
women. First of all, men can lift and bench press more weight due to their higher body mass and men
generally weigh more than women. Secondly, there are women body-builders that can surely lift and bench
press a greater amount of weight compared to the average man. However, most women do not find that
hobby to be appealing to and strive to stay small, tight, and fit just enough to attract the opposite sex. Lastly,
females can play sports just as well as males. I do my part to try and prove these appalling stereotypes to be
false by being currently active in two sports: volleyball and badminton.
The most typical gender discrimination against women is commonly found at the workplace. Scenarios such
as hiring, firing, promotions, harassment, training, wages, and benefits are greatly affected and influenced by
one of the most basic differences between humans—their gender. Just because you’re a woman, your male
boss might not pay you as much or may promote a fellow male co-worker over you. This forces females to
work twice as hard just to prove themselves and be placed on the same level as men.
The United States Census Bureau provides statistics for “gender gap earnings” in the United States (the ratio
of female to male median yearly earnings among full-time and year-round workers). In 2009, men in the
United States resulted with a total of $47,127. On the other hand, women only received a total of $36,278,
which is a ratio of 0.77. They concluded that female workers earn 25% less than male workers. However,
this does not consider the differences in experience, skill, occupation, education, and hours worked. This
unexplained wage gap is generally a result of gender discrimination, also known as sexism. It is basically
hatred or prejudice towards an entire gender, including the application of gender stereotypes.
I am only in high school. I do not have a job, so I cannot personally relate to sexism in the workplace. But I
have experienced gender discriminated by the people around me. The people I see every day—my own
parents. I am the youngest child out of three kids, two girls and one boy. My brother is the eldest and I feel
my parents give him the most privileges and are more lenient with him whenever he gets in trouble. I do my
best to earn their respect just to be able to get to do what I want, but it still hasn’t quite worked out for me. I
fully understand that I am the baby of the family and my parents are just trying to protect me, but they have
taken it to a whole new level. When my brother was my age, he was allowed to go out with his friends a lot,
but I have to always be home. I try to reason with them but they either don’t want to hear me complain or
simply respond with a “No,” along with their classic justification “I’m a girl.”
I do acknowledge the fact that it is more dangerous for a woman to be out than a man, but what is so wrong
and harmful about me wanting to go watch a movie or hang out at a friend’s house? It’s not like I’m
carelessly strolling around the streets of downtown at night by myself. I know better than that. My
intolerance to gender discrimination with my parents has become so repetitive and numbing to the
unfortunate point where I merely do not try to defend or fight back anymore. I now choose to stay home all
the time, rather than being forced to.
I am teaching myself to be patient for the day when I get to not necessarily do whatever I want, but to make
my own decisions as a young adult. I know I’m going to thank my parents for loving me so much to do
what is best for me. I guess you could call this period in my life “bitter sweet.” Spending a great amount of
time by myself has given me a lot to think about. I actually spend this time considerably wisely by focusing
on my studies and working on my personal priorities in life.
Overall, sexism prevents women from the full enjoyment of their human rights because they are told they
are less competent, thus degrading them. Gender discrimination is most definitely not okay and should not
be condoned.
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2011-2012 I W RITE
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F UTURE A NTHOLOGY
OR
D ETER M E
My piece was inspired by the intolerance that I have experienced for as long as I can remember. I am
pretty sure that I am not the only female who has experienced gender discrimination and I wanted to let
people know that gender discrimination is still out there and very much alive. I know how it feels like to
be judged and put down solely based on gender and it's not right.
For instance, women have come far from being strictly ornamental roles of domestic mothers and wives.
We have proven that we are just as intellectual and capable as men in high places. It's the 21st century and
women have accomplished so much. However, there are still restrictions placed on what we are allowed
to do. One issue some women are facing today is the limitations on their roles in the military. Females
still aren't allowed to engage in combat on enemy lines. Everyone deserves equal rights and opportunities,
whether male or female.
Remember, a woman can do virtually anything a man can do, and sometimes do it better.
ABOUT THE WRITER
Azalei is a junior at Morse High School aspiring to study Marine Biology at an undecided college.
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2011-2012 I W RITE
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F UTURE A NTHOLOGY
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D ETER M E
RACISM
by Nicholas Pryor
They called him a cracker
To which his friends responded, “It didn’t matter.”
But I could tell he was affected by this put down
Because when he turned around, all I saw was a red face and a frown
I couldn’t find the courage to go up and say to him
I understand that even white kids are affected by racism
They called her a fob
Any chances for her to fight back were robbed
She tried to tell them she’d lived here for years
But all she could mutter were some mumbles and tears
Now she hates the voice she always had
Now when she talks to anyone her face turns sad
They called him a beaner
Twice
It didn’t bother him the first time, but this time it changed his demeanor
They said that he hopped borders and wore bandanas
But he only watched TV and hung out with his girlfriend, Anna
All he wanted to do was end all their bullying
Never having to worry about such hurtful things
They called him a Mali
Said all he did was blow things up and get ballied
He hated the way they joked about him
But when they looked at him all he showed was a grin
He wanted to blow them up for real
But whenever he really thought about it he just couldn’t muster up the zeal
They called me a nigger
I felt like grabbing a gun and pulling the trigger
But then I thought about it
Would they be calling me this slang word
If they didn’t overhear two black mockingbirds
Using the word like it is a good thing
Not realizing the hatred that it brings
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2011-2012 I W RITE
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F UTURE A NTHOLOGY
OR
D ETER M E
When I thought about writing about intolerance in our society, I immediately thought about racism. Most
of the teens I hang around with experience racism on a regular basis. I personally try not to focus on the
subtle racist comments I hear, but it does bother me sometimes. This piece is important to me because it
shows the racism that most teens experience.
I hope that my readers begin to think twice before saying racist comments that they think are inoffensive.
The best way to ensure that you do not offend someone’s race is to simply not say anything at all, even if
you think it’s inoffensive.
ABOUT THE WRITER
Nick is a sophomore at Morse High School who hopes to attend college on a sports scholarship and major
in psychology.
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2011-2012 I W RITE
THE
F UTURE A NTHOLOGY
OR
D ETER M E
PERCEPTIONS
by Mark Olesco
When you look at us, what is your first impression?
Is it that we cannot drive?
Or is it that we digest cats and dogs just to stay alive?
Is it that we're all destined to be nurses?
Or is it that we're incapable of spitting a couple of verses?
Is it that we are straight A students?
Or is it that we can never skip class, can’t afford to be truant?
Is it that you think all the movies we watch are on flat screen?
Or is it that we strive to accomplish only our parent's dream?
Is it that we all know martial arts?
Or is it that we lack in size of particular body parts?
Is it that we can’t properly pronounce the letters F and P?
Or is it that we are all considered F.O.B’s?
As we took our first steps on the land of dreams
You bombarded us with cruel, hurtful screams
Tenaciously telling us that we needed to leave
Hospitality and Respect is something we didn’t receive
You made me hate what I am as an individual
You laugh at the fact that I am bilingual.
You influenced me to despise my own race
Making me wish I could change the Asian features on my face.
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2011-2012 I W RITE
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F UTURE A NTHOLOGY
OR
D ETER M E
Being an Asian American, I have witnessed and experienced the injustices that the Asian race goes
through. I have been a victim of racism. I moved to the U.S. from the Philippines when I was 9 years old.
The language was the biggest barrier preventing me from fully connecting with many of my fellow
students at the time. Fortunately, I got over this obstacle in my life and I finally found a group of friends
that accepted me for who I was. However, as I progressed through my middle school years, it was evident
to me that all races face injustices and stereotypes. Whatever race you may be, this will haunt you. It is
how the world is designed. Stereotypes are viral and it is hard to not be aware of them. Seeing how this
affected me as a kid, I wrote this piece to make readers aware of this situation. I want them to know that
judging someone based on their race is never justified. It is a possibility that those who suffer from this
injustice will hate themselves. No one should be made to feel this way.
ABOUT THE WRITER
Mark is a sophomore at Morse High School who enjoys math, science, and English. He intends on
pursuing a career in medicine.
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F UTURE A NTHOLOGY
I AM WHO I AM
I am who I am.
You are who you are.
Black, Asian, Mexican, White
No one can tell us apart at night.
Why does it matter?
Why do people care?
Despite what other people think,
its their opinions we can't seem to bear.
“nerds,” “religion,” “being gay,” or “overweight.”
Reactions to these differences leave us stranded
with lack of self-confidence and hate.
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OR
D ETER M E
by Marisa Vinson
2011-2012 I W RITE
THE
F UTURE A NTHOLOGY
OR
D ETER M E
I live in a community where all different types of people do their best to get along. Everyday, every person
I am surrounded with is struggling with something: family, friends, relationships, money, jobs, school, or
something else. I wrote this paper as an assignment in class, but also as an emotional relief. It expresses a
small amount of how I feel about racism and judging others. This piece was enjoyable for me to write as
well. Even though the poem is somewhat small, a lot of strong thought was put into it, and I appreciate
the time anyone takes to read it. My goal as a writer was to grasp the readers’ thoughts and make them
really think about my piece to where they want to read it again.
ABOUT THE WRITER
Marisa is a junior at Corning High School.
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2011-2012 I W RITE
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F UTURE A NTHOLOGY
OR
D ETER M E
WHAT THEY CALL ME
by La Houa Moua
It doesn’t matter where you hide your culture.
It already tells on your face.
But my culture, it never existed.
Because it’s never on the list.
That’s why I write this poem.
To describe why my face never tells.
By the look of our faces,
People think of us as Chinese.
We’re just a bunch of faceless people that
Put on the mask of others.
Not just the first, second, or third
But many times in our history
Never, we accept such a name
Because we haven’t fallen
We are still our own culture.
That’s why I’ll make us exist in history
That Hmong people can have their own face.
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2011-2012 I W RITE
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F UTURE A NTHOLOGY
OR
D ETER M E
I wrote the piece I did because I have experienced many times in my life people calling me Chinese. It’s
just like they call me some random name based on my looks without knowing who I am. It is important
to me because the piece shows who I really am and I am proud to be Hmong.
When readers finish my piece, I want them to know that people shouldn’t just call someone a name based
on what they look like. I also want the reader to feel my feelings, thinking about how it feels to be called
some random racial name at a first meeting. I want them to know how it feels because to me, it is hurtful.
We need to understand each other’s feelings.
ABOUT THE WRITER
La Houa is a sophomore at Luther Burbank High School.
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2011-2012 I W RITE
THE
F UTURE A NTHOLOGY
OR
D ETER M E
HUES
by Harlyn Williams
Wandering, she decides to paint
a wall, her easel
a cold barrel, her brush
a trigger, their words.
Roses blossom red
slowly they fall to her easel
of white light waves.
With deep sighs of relief,
she lets her hate go.
The eternal empty night
freezes her veins.
The shadows which she can’t escape
fill her with boiling lava.
Loneliness is what she feels,
in a house with porcelain dolls, waiting
with diamond kisses
in a universe filled with broken mirrors
and perfect mannequins.
A canopy of crystal snow
covers her cosmos
and she is the ebony blemish
that stains their white world.
On the glass ground,
she treads carefully
dodging sharp shards
thrown by plastic strangers.
She wishes to pass the skin
to muscle and bone
if only for a moment
to escape their steadfast gaze.
What they don’t realize is
there is flesh beneath the skin that disgusts them.
Shades and hues that don’t match,
images which can’t harmonize,
make them slay with words.
It suffocates
It kills
These walls hold her screams.
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2011-2012 I W RITE
THE
F UTURE A NTHOLOGY
OR
D ETER M E
The intolerance I chose to write about is racism. I wrote about racism because it’s an issue that has
affected my life in even the subtlest forms. In a world where the first thing a person usually notices is the
color of your skin, racism is rampant. The slight difference in the shade of my skin has often left me
isolated in many situations. I couldn’t help but wish that people would see past my brown skin and just
accept me for who I am. I have witnessed this type of intolerance many times and as seen in history, this
type of intolerance can be destructive. I want my readers to understand the depth of this issue. I want
them to comprehend that their demeaning comments about race can and do hurt others. I also want them
to accept not only people of all ethnicities, but their ethnicity as well. The world doesn’t need to be
divided any more than it already is.
ABOUT THE WRITER
Harlyn is a junior at Morse High School planning to double major in English and Neuroscience.
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2011-2012 I W RITE
THE
F UTURE A NTHOLOGY
FACES
OF
OR
D ETER M E
DISCRIMINATION
by Christian Pelayo
Why is the phrase "nigga" OK to say?
When we just escaped slavery’s heyday
We assume that this a thing of the past
But you can still see scars born of the lash
And is the label "F.O.B." really cool?
It only makes people feel like fools
For being blessed with an accent
From heritage-rich years well spent
What about "try hard" or look at the "nerd"?
Putting in effort shouldn’t be absurd
Being smart isn’t a negative
But these taunts hurt—that’s positive
We laugh at "that's gay" smile at "no homo"
But coming out to others is tough to swallow
Everybody should express their love in an open way
Without fear of rejection. Without being driven away
Applaud those brave souls
Who go on after hearing "emo"
Who tuck life's worries under a sleeve,
Because a razor is what’s used to relieve.
Or those ridiculed and called "fatass"
Who are scared to crack smiles in class.
Their gluttony arrives from life’s stress
And we're only adding onto their life's mess
And hearing “anorexic” yelled across class
Destroying self-confidence that barely lasts
Over an open toilet they lie,
Because we have set standards too high.
What about "retard" or “sped”?
Creeping in their ears are words they dread
We only add salt to the open wounds
They’ve had since being birthed from their mother's womb
What about those called “midget” or “shorty”?
Jeered at by children at the age of forty
Already hurt by their body's deformity
Because of prejudice they aren’t given the ability to perform
When you let slurs freely roll out
They'll continue to run and trample about
These stereotypes must be stopped and ignored
So that equality can finally be restored
When we can hold our hands in peace
Where thoughts of hatred finally cease
We can ignore the senses that keep us apart
And start seeing others with our heart
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2011-2012 I W RITE
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F UTURE A NTHOLOGY
OR
D ETER M E
I wrote my piece to show my readers that prejudice does not exist as a single entity. Hate is not like what
most people see in the media, where only a few select groups are targeted. As a teenager, I see multiple
groups harassed and belittled on a daily basis. And what’s worse is those people who claim to be against
discrimination, subconsciously do so themselves. Whether it be the one time use of the word "faggot" or
"nigga," these words hurt and should not be used under any circumstance.
It's important to me that after my readers finish my poem that they understand that the use of racial slurs,
even in a casual environment, is not acceptable and that we will never cannot achieve equality until they
do. Some of these words may be considered inoffensive because they are used by so many and are sadly
considered to be the norm. However, if teens do not prohibit the use of such language, then their peers
will continue to use words that hurt others. We will never find a ceasefire in discrimination if we cannot
separate what’s RIGHT from what is the norm.
ABOUT THE WRITER
Christian is a sophomore at Morse High School who wishes to attend UCSD to study computer
engineering.
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REASONING
by Kevin Maranon
I had to stop and contemplate
Why people express random acts of hate?
These actions of ignorance lead to intolerance
Fueled by feelings of supremacy or dominance
Is it human nature to act so cruel?
Judging and tormenting, this isn’t cool
One day our group just caused you to flip,
You didn’t think twice, just opened your lips
We looked a lil’ different, so you began to question
New to your eyes, you let out aggression
Racial slurs and hateful words
Hit the ears of your victims,
It was all we heard
Simply because of who we are
This time you went a little too far
Taking cheap shots you found amusing
Throwing low blows, it’s all confusing
Despite of knowing what’s right and what’s wrong
Are all of your beliefs just suddenly gone?
When your thoughts turned to words, was it natural behavior?
You have religious outputs – don’t blame your creator
Your hate evolved from you own mindset
After pulling the trigger, it is impossible to reset
You have insulted my dialect
And hit my well-being with constant threats
I have pride and love for my culture
But embracing it at times brings on torture
I must practice my beliefs for it’s my religion
But if I do – I’m only hit with cruel criticism
Words have never hit me so hard
I am left with mental and physical scars
These horrid memories hit like earthquakes
And forever – will I stay awake
Only time and strength can mend my wounds
My physical and mental being will heal soon
There are many setbacks and life is a challenge,
But with a head held high – I will only excel, I can manage
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I decided to write about what takes place during an act of intolerance. I chose to write about this because I
wanted to explain that intolerance is not an instinct, but is something that is under control and can be
prevented. Through my piece I want readers to be more aware that they need to simply pay more
attention to their actions, so that this level of intolerance does not continue to be an issue. Think before
you speak. Words were not created to hurt.
ABOUT THE WRITER
Kevin is a sophomore at Morse High School. He aspires to one day become a philanthropist.
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FUNNY
OR
OR
D ETER M E
FLAGRANT
by Borna Poursheikhani
It was the day that changed my life,
When racism, through my eyes, reached its height.
I never knew that things could escalate so fastRacist comments and repeated jokes about my past,
But alas,
9/11 came to pass,
And I was left…
The Iranian kid…
“Loneliness? Hatred? What do I feel?
What did I do to deserve this?
Did I murder, did I steal?”
I try to act tough, and laugh it off
But it clings to me like a water-soaked sock.
Above all, the racist comments
Rang in my head like a ticking time bomb…
I am a mere example, a subject of intolerance
Blacks, homosexuals, or the “nasty” girl with syphilis.
A child’s plead for help is squashed like a beetle,
A mere piece of hay in the haystack,
Feeling like the needle.
Nobody cares about the real me.
I am the Iranian kid…
You want the kids’ perspective, well here you go,
Most kids now-a-days suffer from intolerance: not part of nature’s flow.
One joke can make a child self-conscious
Setting off the dominoes of playground intolerance.
The dominoes continue, down along the chain,
Until every kid is forever marked by a pulsing soul stain.
Intolerance leaves its mark, at an early age
And must be dug up from the roots, at the very first stage.
Kids must be exposed, to different lifestyles from the start
By being allowed at their friend’s house, in the city’s “bad” part.
The wider the range of exposure, the more open minded the child will be,
So that they find new customs cool and are attracted to new things.
So if parents loosen up, and the social hierarchy eases,
Kids would appreciate them more, and use their thank-you's and please's
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So you see, the exact things that parents do to perfect their child
Corrupts and denatures them, making them wild.
So let your kids play at the “dirty” park,
And take them to eat Ethiopian food,
Allow them to howl at the moon when it’s dark,
And introduce them to the very things you once rued
Sheltering your kids leads to ignorance,
Which in turn becomes intolerance
So if you desire a vaccine against this pestilence,
All you need to do is go ahead and follow this:
Help your kids see beyond the black and white,
Into a world free from stereotypes.
Allow your kids to see the beauty of the real world,
And it will be like opening up a barnacle-ridden oyster, and seeing a pearl.
Funny or Flagrant was more than just a poem for me. It was my expression of years of suppressed
emotions, compiled into one piece. The ideas flowed to my mind naturally as if I had long planned what
to say. The reason I wrote this poem was to show kids of all ages that there’s more to making fun of
someone than just a joke. Even if the target laughs at the comments, they can be suppressing their true
disappointment and lowered self-esteem. Kids need to be more careful of what they say because a simple
joke could send someone under a dark cloud. I also felt that this wasn’t a result of a naturally ‘bad’ kid, I
believe it is a result of harsh parenting, too much pressure, or too little contact with the parents. I felt as
though I needed to get this message out to the public so that the kids can see their jokes from their target’s
perspective and maybe be a little more aware of the situation they may be causing. I also want parents to
read my poem to see what effect their actions and words have on their children, whether they notice it or
not. I want people to realize that bullying at school, bad as the bullies may seem, was probably caused by
something at home, whether it be that their parents pile pressure onto them for sports and school, or they
barely see their parents. Either way I believe the parents are the source of intolerance, as the little things
they say or do can have life changing effects on their children.
ABOUT THE WRITER
Borna is a junior at Woodrow Wilson High School.
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FEARING
TO
OR
D ETER M E
BE HEARD
by Sakura Komatsu
You have to understand. Back where I was from, people never made fun of your mistakes. Instead, they
corrected them graciously. So when I moved to America, you could not even begin to imagine how I felt
once I opened my mouth to speak and was greeted with mockery instead.
“Hay, mey name is Amihan Dinafabuyan, pleised to meityu.”
Then laughter ensued. Laughter that I couldn’t, at the time, tell was directed towards my words. Laughter
that was meant to ridicule me.
I had no idea that teens my age could be so cruel. They laughed at my words and how I pronounced
them, even going as far as to imitate them; it brought tears to my eyes the first time it happened. I hoped it
was the last time I’d ever encounter individuals like that. But it turns out that my first encounter was the
first of many more to come. Their taunts were like a disease. As soon as other people heard the mockery
of my words, they began to imitate them, and insult me alongside my original tormentors. They grew in
numbers; so much so that I felt suffocated and I just wanted to swim through the Pacific Ocean, back to
my home.
I had always been the type to express myself freely with words. However, the very words that I felt were
my friends, brought shame upon me. Shame that I shouldn’t have been made to feel—for I loved to speak.
But not anymore. Not since I moved to this wretched country, where freedom of speech is advertised, yet
not exercised.
Many people who migrate to America fear that their speech might not be considered “normal” or
acceptable to their peers. I felt the same, but I shouldn’t have to. I knew this. So I tried hard to keep on
expressing myself—to be heard. As I tried harder and harder, my words seemed to get louder like the
native tongue that I loved to use. However, this only served as more fuel for others to put me down and
taunt and taunt and taunt.
Until finally, I fell.
Like piranhas that smelled blood, my peers took advantage of every opportunity to bring me down, if only
to feel as if their worth was higher, and I let them. I am even guilty of bringing myself down. Because I
accepted their taunts to be the truth. Because I let the choking fear suppress my voice.
As I write this, my hands are shaking. I fear that these words I write might just make my peers hate me
more. Hate the fact that I spoke out, even if not a word of this orally escaped from my lips. Hate the fact
that even though I still struggle, I fight against their discrimination.
But now I am tired, no progress has been made. Instead, I seem to observe others being treated the same
way as I am. Their numbers grow every day. I fear that one day, everyone is going to adopt the habit of
making fun of those who do not speak the same way as they do, and think it’s normal. I fear that I may
turn out to be just like them. Discriminating others just because they stand out. Just because they’re
different.
So I write this, not only to speak out against those who discriminate against individuals who can’t speak
the English language well, but also to remind myself that I should never act like them. I simply refuse to
act like them because I know how painful it is to want to speak out but not being able to—for fear of not
being accepted.
I have been so close to giving up. However, what pushes me through the days is the thought that
someone, somewhere out there in the world is suffering just like me. I need to be strong for them.
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So I spoke. I spoke in high volumes and with words that caught attention, if only in hopes of my thick
accent being buried under my flashy way of speaking. I spoke louder than I ever have, hiding behind my
shameless personality. Pretending as if the taunts, my accent, and my tormentors didn’t exist. But I know
that they’re always there. When I slip up and pronounce ‘my’ with an ‘e’ in between. Whenever I say a
word too slow. They’re always listening. Waiting. Just waiting for the chance to pounce.
However, that is of no consequence to me anymore. Now, I am loud because I am proud. Proud of my
heritage and the people I represent. I aim to be loud. I aim to encourage those who have trouble speaking
in the “correct” manner, to just speak out and share what they think. Just as I do now.
Then maybe someday, more people will be like me—a conqueror of the language barrier. More people will
support the cause that I fight for. The cause to one day, speak freely in any way, in any language, without
fear of mockery. Without fear of anything at all.
I wrote my piece due to the harsh treatment many immigrants experience when coming to America. Like
many of my fellow immigrants, I was afraid to speak. Many immigrants are afraid of the discrimination
they will inevitably suffer once they open their mouths.
I present this piece as a way to show others who may suffer from discrimination caused by language
barriers that they are not alone and that they should not let others stifle their right to freedom of speech.
It is my hope that things will eventually get better if people take the time to think before they belittle or
harass someone based on their accent or incorrect grammar.
ABOUT THE WRITER
Sakura is a sophomore at Morse High School who aspires to go to UC Berkeley on an Air Force
Scholarship. She plans to double major in Media and Journalism.
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D ETER M E
UNCONDITIONAL TROUBLES
by Diego Contreras
The bell rings just after he sits down. Just one more period left before the day is over. He looks around
with a joyful face. He wants to feel closer to the people around him, but sometimes he felt like if he was
alone in the world. He takes a glance around, a friend over here, another over there, and one behind him.
He sees familiar faces all over the place, but the connection weakened with the passing time. The teacher
is just taking role, so he simply puts his head down. His eyes seem to be closed, but his mind and ears are
open. The chatter for next week’s game, the planning for homecoming are all very intriguing, but not
enough for him to be part of. The teacher finally gets up in front of the room, and begins to speak. He puts
his head up to listen to the words, but the words are like bullets, that penetrate right through him, and
only a small part of it is left to be recollected; and just like a bullet, you try to make of it significance, but
he simply shrugged, and puts his head down once again.
He hears something about an essay, and like a ghost town, a sudden silence. Now up, he looks around,
and notices a rain of emotion, some happy, some sad, and some with a mind of regret, and some with no
emotion what so ever. The teacher is handing out the class’s essay, going around like a ticking time bomb,
that for some were harmless, and for others devastating. As he sits there, he can’t help wonder what his
score could be. He looks right next to him, and asks the person what grade she got. She simply says she
got a B, but said it was okay because she had an A in the class. As he turns his back around, he notices his
teacher, with the usual smile on her face. She leans over, and tells him that he got an A on the essay, and
bumped you up to an A for the class. A sudden sense of relief flows to his body, and he turns to her and
says thank you. Just as you think it is over, you hear from behind you, “Oh, yeah, even the short Mexican
kid got an A. He never does anything.” He means to turn around, but his body won’t do it. It’s no big
deal, he thinks to himself, but those words disturbed him in a way he had never felt before, like the feeling
crawling throughout his bones. They don’t know him very well, he thinks to himself, but what gives them
the right to say anything like that.
Many young people have to suffer trough these types of situation everyday. Even thought it is of low
significance, it is something that can really tear the life of people. This unconditional intolerance is
something that people of all races, place, and color have to experience. Even though people think it is
harmless to joke around, or try to bring someone down by calling them beaners or wetback, or whatever,
it is something that society needs to work on. In a series of unfortunate events, the intolerance starts
verbal, and turns physical, causing catastrophes wherever it takes place. These problems are like plagues,
destroying people’s well-beings slowly from the inside out; these problems are like seeds. They start small,
but in time, they can grow huge, unless you stop it from the root.
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This piece I wrote was written for the same purpose as all the others, to highlight the intolerance that lives
in our society today. Not only is it a right, but our duty as young adults to inform, and give a different
perspective to the actions we make every day. Even though sometimes they may seem harmless,
throughout time bad habits can grow mean, and we can live our lives never knowing the destruction we
have caused. This piece was written to inform and persuade others, to put themselves in the shoes of those
whom they discriminated against, whether it has been done intentionally or blindly. This essay gives some
feedback to things I myself have experienced. The reaction I would like the reader to perceive is not that
of empathy or sorrow, but acknowledgment that there are things needing to be changed. In order for us to
live in a world run by justice and respect, we all have to do our part, and take action u on these things. If
anything can be taken out of this essay I wrote, it is to be more aware of the things we do, and think
before we act.
ABOUT THE WRITER
Diego is a senior at Corning High School.
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2011-2012 I W RITE
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D ETER M E
MEXICAN
by Karina Reyes
Go back to Mexico, that’s where you came from.” You hear those harsh, full words; shocked you look at
her, asking yourself, “Did she really just say that?” Your mind is about to explode from all the thoughts
going through your head.
You turn to her, look straight in the eyes and you open your mouth. As you’re about to say something
your dad stops you and tells you to move to the side, not because he was going to do something, but to
protect you from being hurt even more. As you are waiting for your dad to finish paying the cashier, you
hear her telling her four year-old daughter, “Stupid Mexicans”.
There is a million things horrible in this world; poverty, terrorism, global warming, but one thing you
absolutely want to abolish is racism. You want to put a stop to it but you stand powerless.
Finally your dad is done paying. He starts to move towards the exit, and you give him a confused look
asking, “Are you just going to walk off and not say anything?” He looks at you and with a sigh he
indicates for you to move towards the exit.
As you are heading out, you take one last look at the lady. You see her laughing as the cashier laughs with
her. You ask yourself if it’s really worth an argument. With a sigh, you kick open the exit door and you
walk out.
You’re in the car driving home, as your dad is going off about how that lady must have been sick or
drunk. You ignore all the remarks he’s made and think how ignorant of her to tell you all those racist
remarks. You then recall of her appearance, and one thing that stands out is the color of her skin. She was
Mexican. You then realize that the worst thing about racist stereotypes is that people offend every type of
race including their own.
You remind your dad of the lady’s race, and with a sigh he says, “Sometimes that’s just the way it is.”
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Discrimination; a simple fourteen-letter word that does unthinkable damage to the human mind. It is a
terror faced by many, and stopped by few. The reason I decided to write about discrimination for I Write
the Future is because there are so many stories similar or even worse than mine that remain silent. Yet
inside victims plead for help. It is of a high importance to write about discrimination to show the world
that what is often ignored or pushed away, can have drastic outcomes is there is no stop to it.
Discrimination happens everywhere and everyday, at school, at work, and on the streets. I want people to
understand that judging others for their race, appearance, religion, sexuality or whatever sort of difference
they have is not acceptable. I want my readers to feel the pain that all of us who have experienced
judgment from others have felt, not as a comeback, but so they can feel how much a simple joke or
comment can hurt.
ABOUT THE WRITER
Karina is a senior at Corning High School.
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WHY BLAME HISPANICS
by Rudy Aguilar
Hispanic immigrants are blamed for too many problems in the U.S. and that is wrong. I have heard many
of my classmates and people on the news blame Hispanic immigrants for jobs being unavailable and for
bringing criminal gangs. It seems to me that these people have intolerance for Hispanic immigrants.
The idea of jobs being unavailable because of Hispanic immigrants is a lie. The people blaming the
immigrants are just pointing fingers because they do not know what or who else to blame. Just because
you are a Hispanic immigrant does not mean you are trying to take jobs away. In fact, Hispanic
immigrants are actually doing the jobs most Americans do not want to do: field picking, housekeeping, or
being a janitor.
Field picking is one of the jobs most Americans do not want to do. It is a backbreaking job. It requires
long work hours in the hot sun or cold rain and it pays very low wages. Hispanic immigrants, on the other
hand, will do this job because they need the work to support themselves and their families. These
immigrants take this job because they are not qualified to do other types of work.
Criminal gangs are not created because of Hispanic immigrants. According to Dr. Mike Carlie gangs are
created because many people had or have unmet needs. For example, some may feel unsheltered,
unprotected, unsupported, or neglected, so then they join or create these gangs to fill in these unmet
needs. This is why we have gangs. Yes, it is true that many Hispanics become involved in criminal gangs.
In fact, Wikipedia lists 27 gangs in California 15 of which are made up of Hispanics. However, that does
not mean all Hispanics are in a gang. A lot of Hispanics involved in gangs are not even Hispanic
immigrants and are actually U.S. Citizens. This is a stereotype people need to stop believing.
If I could write the future, I would make it so that our country has educational programs on race. These
programs would inform our citizens on the role of immigrants, for example, how the immigrants help our
country and what would happen without them. Also, these programs would stop our citizens from
believing the stereotypes about Hispanics and other races: that “all Hispanics live poorly,” “all they eat
are beans and tortillas,” “all Asian people are intelligent,” or “all Asians are bad drivers.”
All these problems in the U.S. are not caused by Hispanics. People need to stop being ignorant and get the
facts straight. They need to stop pointing at Hispanics just because they look or do things a little
differently than Americans. They are here now and have become part of our American culture.
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I am surrounded by many Hispanics like my parents, siblings, relatives, and friends. Not all, but many of
them are immigrants. I see the lifestyles they have and I hear stories of some of the hardships they go
through. Many of their lifestyles make me feel so sorry for them. However, what makes me mad is when
other people start complaining about the Hispanic immigrants. People are complaining about my relatives
and friends, and things they do not know about. People don't even know the whole story, just one side of
it. This is why I wrote this essay. I am not trying to prove anyone wrong or offend anyone, but to let them
know about the other half of the story.
When readers finish reading my piece, I want them to see what I see. I want them to see images in their
heads of Hispanics immigrants and what they do just to survive. I also want my readers to be informed of
some facts about Hispanic immigrants. They might realize that immigrants are doing nothing besides
trying to make a living. I lastly want my readers to change their opinions of the Hispanic immigrants and
their role in the U.S.
ABOUT THE WRITER
Rudy is a junior at Corning High School.
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A GLIMPSE
OF
OR
D ETER M E
OURSELVES
by Andrew San Jose
There are almost two million known species of life on earth, and over 1.3 million animals. Our species,
Homo sapiens, has been on earth for an estimated 200,000 years, and has continued to evolve. Through
our evolutions, we assume that we have grown further and further apart from our fellow humans of other
races due to characteristic and physical differences. According to scientists, our species shares about 60%
of DNA and chromosomal structure with a banana, and 97% with a chimpanzee. If we share so much in
common with a plant product that we eat, and are almost similar to that of a primate, then the differences
from human to human cannot be so significant. In fact, from any given person compared to any other,
whether they are an African with dark skin, a redheaded Irishman, or a mixture or blend from multiple
ethnic backgrounds, the chromosomal differences are less than .1%. Therefore, we are only a tenth of a
percent away from having the same genetic code as every single person of the 6.7 billion human beings on
the planet Earth. We are kindred to everyone else in the world, only genetically different by a small
fraction of a percent: if so, then why do we assume that we are so different?
We are all human-- each and every one of us. We are Homo sapiens. At some level-- we are all the same.
As similar as we all are, though, our differences are just as numerous. There are cultural differences that
arise, based upon where, when and how we are born and raised. Culture, religion, and society shape each
of us in their own way thus creating the unique and special individuals that inhabit the earth. If we can
look through these differences, past the prejudice, we will realize that we can learn from each other to
better ourselves, our country, our societies, and our home here on Earth.
I, myself, personally come from a multi-religious family. My father is Catholic, my mother is a Catholic
convert, my Uncle is Jewish, my grandmother is a Muslim convert, my Great-Grandmother belonging to
Science of Mind, and my Aunt from the Lutheran church. I attended Catholic school for nine years, and I
educated myself in my faith, to further understand what I believe. In my family life, I have been taught
and educated in the religious doctrines of multiple religious and theological beliefs. I have been taught,
raised, and educated to be comfortable in discussing my beliefs with others, and in turn listening to what
they have to say. Because of this, I have found myself very comfortable around others of different faith
backgrounds; I learn to find the similarities, respect the differences, and accept people for who they are.
Acceptance of others is such a colloquial and commonplace concept. Even as young and impressionable
children, we are taught by our parents, our teachers, and our elders to “respect others and treat them the
way we would wish to be treated”, to “not judge a book by its cover”. Yet somehow these simple, yet ever
so complex, proverbs are not evident in some of our actions. Intolerance has weaseled its way into our
lives, clouding and impairing our judgment, creating a veil through which we see others. This veil of
intolerance manipulates our opinions before we have a chance to create them, forming the prejudices that
we assume of others. We prejudge others who are not the same as ourselves: we judge those who choose
to be different, who are born different, and those who are different then what we perceive as normal.
However, who are we to judge and claim what is normal?
The Westboro Baptist Church is a religious organization that resides in Topeka, Kansas and they have
made it their mission in life to point out the flaws in others that they believe to be sins against their God.
They seem to believe that they have come upon the answer, that they have the definition of the “perfect
person”- those few that follow their beliefs- and they believe they have been tasked in waging a
metaphorical war on those who are different; they target homosexuals and their sympathizers, America
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and its fallen American soldiers, other races, and other religious beliefs. They travel around the country in
protest of these “sins” by remonstrating their disapproval at the funerals of American soldiers, places of
religious worship pertaining to any religion that is not theirs, and anywhere else where they feel they can
“preach” their message to the world. Two years ago my school was disrupted by the exhibition that the
Westboro Baptist Church brought to corrupt the ideals and morals of the young and learning generation.
In response, Wilson High gathered together in defense of its gay, lesbian, and minority population with a
peaceful counter protest, which proudly brandished displays of support for its fellow students. We
established on-campus clubs and groups and gathered together under the banner of Wilson High,
regardless of sexual orientation, religious belief, or racial background. We realized that we were different,
but unlike the reproachful WBC, we celebrated it, and displayed it proudly, hoping to share what we have
to offer to others.
There is a saying that no two snowflakes are alike-- as the molecular bond formed is different in each one.
Even through all these differences though, each snowflake is still a snowflake, and one can still grasp a
pile of snow and form a tightly packed snowball that fits together. Just like snowflakes, no person is
exactly the same as another. And yet why can’t we create a coherent and connected society? History has
proven that it is possible to have equality for all, regardless of gender, race, religion, belief, or background.
We are each human and therefore belong to the same worldwide and globalized family. If we cannot
follow the example of a simple snowball, how can we have hope in the future? The answer is we cannot,
and, therefore, we must find a way to peacefully coexist with our fellow brothers and sisters, for the good
of ourselves, others, and the future of our world. It is only through education that we can hope to find a
means to coexist as neighbors, interacting peacefully, for the betterment of us all, to form a society that
will one day accept everyone as equals, rather than a societal hierarchy based on differences. Once these
prejudices and this ignorance can be left behind as what was, we can develop what is, to create a better
what will be tomorrow.
Growing up in the multi-cultural family I have, I learned many aspects of many different cultures, and I
began to realize that fundamentally, everyone is the same, and therefore should be treated the same. But
they aren't. We aren't all treated the same as others around us, and that bothered me. I began to question
why? Why are others treated differently? Why is there racism? Why is there hatred? And an answer came
to me, and that answer was simply because we are afraid of others. Unknowingly, that fear turns into
hatred, to keep the unknown away from us, without us realizing it’s happening, and then we discriminate
against those we presume our different then us. I want readers to step away from reading my essay,
realizing that we similar, and should be treated the same. It has been done in our history, so I believe that
we can achieve it today. Once we can identify the problem, we can educate ourselves to find a solution,
and try help to make the world a better place.
ABOUT THE WRITER
Andrew San Jose is currently a junior at Woodrow Wilson Classical High School in Long Beach.
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FROM INTOLERANCE
TO
OR
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ACCEPTANCE
by Anonymous
Homosexuality is a controversial topic in the United States, especially amongst teenagers. The amount of
name calling and bashing homosexuals receive is more than plentiful in high schools, in middle schools,
and even in elementary schools; yet, nearly no one stands to fight this intolerance. If you are homosexual,
you learn early to fend for yourself and hide who you are as a matter of survival. Therefore, the rate of
suicide amongst homosexuals, especially teenagers, keeps sky-rocketing. The only way to stop this kind of
intolerance is to educate people that there are more similarities between themselves and homosexuals than
they know. Thankfully, the media and the many homosexuals who have had negative experiences
because of their sexuality (myself included) have come together to make an effort to change this
intolerance. Unfortunately, we have not been able to solve this issue because homophobes and other
intolerant people still exist, making the issue still relevant. Yet, if we make a plan to incorporate
homosexuals in predominately heterosexual media and begin to stand up for ourselves a lot more, then we
can change the course of the future by finally making homosexuality’s portrayal in society a positive one.
As a gay teenager, I undergo this type of treatment everyday. I get bashed, laughed at, and made fun of
because I am gay, because I like to dance, and because I am not afraid to be myself around other people.
For instance, my ceramics class is full of heterosexual males who love to call me names such as queer, gay
boy, and the “F” word. I could easily drop out of the class, but I love ceramics. From planning to
construction, everything about clay objects fascinates me. This entices me to want to learn more and more
about them; therefore, I deal with the ridicule I receive and still take the class. I will not let my
“stereotype” define nor change what I want to do. I made this decision early on.
When I was fourteen years old, I was violently harassed by a group of heterosexual boys because of my
sexuality. At that point I hadn’t told anyone that I was gay, so those boys had acted purely upon
assumption. Late one night at summer camp, while the other campers were setting up their gear, I left
camp to find a private spot to go to the restroom, just as we all had been instructed to do by our camp
leaders. It was so dark that I could hardly see 3 feet in front of me, but I was able to find my way via the
dirt trail that was between the grove of redwood trees. As I had just found a spot to do my business, a
gang of four boys, who I suppose had been following me as I went to go to the restroom, sneaked up
behind me, pushed me to the floor and started kicking me while they all called me cruel names such as
queer and the “f” word and told me cruel things such as “I bet you love being at a camp with all boys”
and “you’re a disgusting excuse for existence.” Luckily, I was saved by my camp master, who had also
left camp to go to the restroom. He pulled the boys away from me and the boys ended up having to write
me a letter of apology and were immediately expelled from the camp. To this day I am left with the
memory of the pain I felt when bruises formed the day after, and a scar on my left forearm from when one
of the boys kicked me with the sharp end of their boot.
Now don’t get me wrong—just because I survived a traumatic incident doesn’t make me immune to
allowing bullying affect me. Bullying affects me just as it does any other person. When I get bullied, I feel
like I am an alien in a sea of normal people, and all I want to do is breakdown and cry. But because I find
solitude in the fact that there are millions of other people just like me who deal with this same type of
hardship every single day, I am able to push through all of the mockery made of me. Being an active
member of the Gay-Straight Alliance Club at my school also provides an outlet for me to push through all
of the mockery made of me. Unfortunately, many other homosexuals have not found solitude in
something or someone, so they are left torn, depressed, and unable to stand up for themselves. Luckily,
the media has recently put an effort to portray homosexuals in a good way, which is an easily accessible
place to find solitude in.
47
2011-2012 I W RITE
THE
F UTURE A NTHOLOGY
OR
D ETER M E
Although life as a gay teenager is still very hard to handle, my life has been made a bit easier because of
the support we have in the media. Nowadays, many television shows feature at least one homosexual
character. For example, in the hit show ‘GLEE’ there are three homosexual characters: Kurt, Santana,
and Blaine. Kurt is a stylish male who is a talented member of the Glee Club, and confident enough to run
for school-wide leadership responsibilities such as student council president, as well as prestigious social
titles such as winter formal king. Santana is the strong, funny, and feisty female character who’s a member
of the Glee Club and the cheerleading squad. Blaine, who happens to be Kurt’s boyfriend in the show, is
an extremely gifted singer whose charisma makes him fun to be around. This show and many other
television shows teach people that it is okay to be gay and that you can be both gay and live a content life,
too.
Television isn’t the only form of media that addresses homosexuality; newspapers, magazines, and radio
stations include tolerance towards homosexuality as well. There are numerous magazines aimed towards
a homosexual audience, thousands of newspaper articles about the increasing rights of homosexuals in
government, and hundreds of radio stations that have talk show hosts who frequently discuss the issue.
Despite all of the recognition and support of homosexuals in media, homosexuals are still not nearly as
close to being seen as equal as heterosexuals are, but it is good for them to know that they can see their
hopes reflected in the media. Consequently, the majority of the people who watch these television shows
are people who are tolerant of gays.
The group of people who don’t watch these television shows is the homophobes. Homophobes are people
who hold irrational fears against homosexuals, and they are preventing media that address homosexuality
from being as successful as they possibly could be. The only way to ease homophobes’ fear of
homosexuals is to educate them about the similarities they share with homosexuals.
So, how can we continue the wave of acceptance? We inform people about the issue by strategically
placing homosexuals in predominately heterosexual television programs, such as football, basketball, and
beauty pageants. By placing more and more homosexuals in these programs, people will be forced to
realize the talents homosexuals have and the similarities they share with us. The reason why this plan will
work is because people are physically, emotionally, and/or psychologically attached to the interests they
have in the television world; causing them to continue watching their favorite television programs despite
the fact that they showcase people whom they think are unfavorable. As heterosexuals continue watching
these programs, they will become more comfortable with the homosexuals, causing them to be kinder to
them as well. This will be a long process, but so was the process of ending of slavery in the U.S., the
stopping of segregation in the South, and the election of the first African-American president in the United
States.
48
2011-2012 I W RITE
THE
F UTURE A NTHOLOGY
OR
D ETER M E
Acknowledgments
CWP would like to thank the following ISAW teachers and project leaders for the support they have given to the I Write
the Future campaign and the students, and for all the hard work they have given to their local writing project, the ISAW
program, and the California Writing Project network.
Adela Arriaga
Mary Asgill
Louann Baker
Carol Booth Olsen
Heidi Bowton
Marty Brandt
Tera Brant
Matt Brown
Lou Buran
Marlene Carter
Kristen Childs
Marina Cochran-Keith
Tim Dewar
Kim Douillard
Naomi Elphick
Carolyn Frank
Kathee Godfrey
Cheri Lynn Gregory
Sheryl Grilione
Kathleen Hicks
Stephen Hochschild
Lara Hoekstra
Katie Hull-Sypnieski
Margo Kipps
Peter Kittle
Lisa Kleinhofer
Vicki Kurtz
Jule LaFollette
Bob Land
Cynthia Larkin
Kelley Leathers
Janet Lenards
Robin Lilly
Jonathan Lovell
Elizabeth Lonnecker
Hollie Mack
Jessica Mann
Kandi Maxwell
Sue McIntyre
Marie Milner
Carol Minner
Brooke Nicolls
Thomas O'Hara
Rae Owens
Nancy Pace-Skinner
Ninetta Papadomichelaki
Faye Peitzman
Elizabeth Proud
Rochelle Ramay
Maureen Rippee
Kathleen Rowlands
Pauline Sahakain
Debra Schneider
David Silas Tellyer
Jaclyn Smith
Karen Smith
Tina Spurlock
Laurie Stowell
Krista Strecker
Jason Torres-Rangel
Carla Truttman
Juliet Wahleithner
Erika Wanczuk
Mary Warner
Carla Webber
Carrie Weldon
Tara Woodall
Cary Zierenberg
CWP would like to thank the following individuals or groups for writing Calls to Action, Calls to Write, Calls to Go Public
that helped us make important connections between our students and the issues and implications of intolerance.
Teresa Chuc Dowell
Kelley Kaukimoce
Sam Quinones
Sara Ramirez
SickStep & Poreotics
CWP also thanks the California Association of Teachers of English for co-sponsoring the I Write the Future awards
49
California Writing Project
University of California
4625 Tolman Hall
Berkeley, CA 94720-1670
www.californiawritingproject.org
© 2012 California Writing Project
Design: Katie Nguyen Lake

Intolerance Does Not Define or Deter Me

Transcription

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