Angel Food Cake

Ingredients:

• Sugar

• Enriched Bleached Wheat Flour

• Wheat Starch

• Powdered Egg Whites

• Leavening

• Corn Starch

• 1.25 Cups Water

Directions:

• Preheat oven to 350°F

• Blend cake mix and water

• Mix until smooth

• Pour into pan

• Bake for 38 to 48 minutes.

• When done the top will be golden brown and flaky.

• Wait until cool then remove.  

Analysis:

• Because the  Sugar, Enriched Bleached Wheat Flour, Wheat Starch, Powdered Egg Whites, Leavening and Corn Starch were a part of the mix they are processed. So about 90% is processed food at least.

Health/nutrition:  

• One slice is a serving and thats 140 calories. There is no saturated or trans fat. No cholesterol, There is 280 mg of sodium  23 g of sugar, 3g of protein, 15% Calcium and 4% Iron.  Even though nothing the cake is over normal levels but a lot of sodium it could cause high blood pressure. If you eat nothing but this meal every day you would be missing most of what you need to a balanced diet. This could make you hypoglycemic.  

Environmental:  

• Because it was processed that means that whoever grown these things were probably not organic farmers. Because of this that means that there were problemy many different pesticides and hormones used to grow these things.

Political/economic:

• This meal cost two dollars. This is just as if not cheaper than a fast food desert. The FDA has a lot of sugar regulation. (c)Sugar content claims --(1)Use of terms such as "sugar free," "free of sugar," "no sugar," "zero sugar," "without sugar," "sugarless," "trivial source of sugar," "negligible source of sugar," or "dietarily insignificant source of sugar." Consumers may reasonably be expected to regard terms that represent that the food contains no sugars or sweeteners e.g., "sugar free," or "no sugar," as indicating a product which is low in calories or significantly reduced in calories. Consequently, except as provided in paragraph (c)(2) of this section, a food may not be labeled with such terms unless. Is one of them.  The rest can be found at http://www.accessdata.fda.gov/scripts/cdrh/cfdocs/cfcfr/cfrsearch.cfm?fr=101.60. Who made money off your meal?  Pinnacle Food Corporation and Duncan Hines.

Social:  

• Sugarcane is made in Florida,Hawaii, Louisiana and Texas. To get to philadelphia it would have to be driven or flown. If i grow my own sugar there would not be a need for gas to get it here. Plus sugar that is made with high fructose corn syrup is is short supply because corn is being used for fuel.  Enriched Bleached Wheat Flour is missing the original, naturally occurring vitamins and minerals found in whole-grain wheat.  With consumers increasingly aware of the detrimental health consequences of consuming processed, milled grains, food companies and bread manufacturers have been steadily shifting away from using the term “white flour” and instead using “wheat flour” on their products. So if I grow my own wheat it would be better for me and again there will be no need for gas.

Hayao Miyazaki was born on January 5, 1941. He is a Japanese film director, animator, manga artist and more. In his family made sure that he was educated and when to school from the age of three until he was eighteen. During his third year of high school  was inspired by the film The Tale of the White Serpent. After this he decided to be into animation at the Gakushuin University. 

April 1963 Miyazaki got a job at Toei Animation. While working there he was chief secretary of Toei’s labor union. After many years of helping with concept art he left Toei in 1971. He working at many other animation companies but after a while he chose to take some personal time. During this time he stayed with one of his friends children. During this time is when he found the inspiration for Spirited Away, his biggest commercial success. He has won over 50 awards for all of his movies. To this day he is still and animator and a great inspiration. 

Spirited Away was my favorite movie as a child. I have seen it at least twenty times. So I chose to draw the character no face. He can be seen below. 

This year we have worked on papers, telling stories, and working in rolls. Through this my headphones have become great tools to create work. For almost every paper or piece of artwork they have helped. And in this class there is always a project going on. The idea of perspective is something that we worked with all year. Perspective is something that we all have. We all see things differently and come at things from different points of view. 

In English one of the first things that we had to do to show our perspective was to write a poem called Theme for English 2. We where told to go home and write a page tonight and let that page form out of you- Then it will be true. When we started that I didn’t know what to do. What did a poem have to do with anything? But now looking back I see that that’s all we where looking for, the truth in the worlds that we see and use everyday. 

As we moved through the year we where made to look at other people points of view and then work through them. Like when we read How To Date A Browngirl, Blackgirl, Whitegirl, or Halfie by Junot Diaz. A lot of people where upset but what was written but like I wrote in my reply I thought it was funny. I mean this is the way he thinks and sees the world of girl. But you have to keep your mind open to it.

Another thing we had to do that was about perspective was our Passing art work. We had to make something that showed how a character saw things.  I picked Claire. A light skinned black woman that was posing as a white girl. So was in-between black and white but she saw how both worlds where and wanted to be able to express both. That something that everyone goes through.  Seeing two different things and wanted to have a little bit of both. It was a lot like me being a native of West Philly going to school in Center City. Being thought to be better then others just because of the school I want to was and is a hard thing to go through. Wanting to fit in with this year proving that I was born to stand out. 

But along with the way we seeing this we also had to look at how we change as these things happen around us. Like in my Chapter 26 for Things Fall Apart. In the story of Things Fall Apart Okonkwo, who is a father and a strong leader in this village, kills his self after this village is taken over by white missionaries. He saw these changes are more then he could take. In my chapter 26 his beloved daughter Ezinma lets the death of her father make her stronger. When she is at the market with her mother she stands up to a cowed of me “Who among you know anything of this man?” Ezinma mocked back at the man. “Who know his name? His motherland? Who?” She ran through the crowed. Pushing man and woman out of the way. Her mother watched unknowingly knowing what her miracle child was about to do. The translated looked on at Ezinma in shock. The side of this face was hot with the red mark of Ezinma’s hand.” Even in a place where a woman is worth less then a man she changes her perceptive to see that these man are not any better then her. And that she has every right to fight back.

            I can also see change in the way I write. From the language autobiography where I was just looking at the way I write. In this paper my first paragraph “In the world we live in there are only a few ways of expressing yourself. You can talk, sing, dance, or be a writer. I can’t sing, or dance. And even though I like writing, expressing myself verbally is the best thing for me to do. The English language is like a damn to me. It blocks off all the beautiful and elegant words I want to say and twist them into a word search,” was now as a look back at it simple compared to what I am writing how.   To the poetry unit where I was made to take steps to change the way the poem sounded and flowed.

 This change carried all the way to the end of the year when I was writing my final thesis paper, my favorite paper of the year. Where I am writing more complex papers that really make me thing and want to write. For example my firs paragraph of that “As human beings we are made to look for other human interaction. Humans are made to look for touch, sound, emotions, and feeling that only others can provide. Thus even when we are places somewhere where these things are hard to find we will find ways to make these connections. Every day people are making new technology to get to know other people. People will always look for humanity even if the most inhuman places.”

This means a lot to me. And I think that that that’s something that you can find in writing too. You find a person who is just truing to reach out and find a way to become a part of someone else. They just want there writing to resonate with others. and that’s what the goal of all of this work really is a way to make our work in this class resonate with other in and out of the class. This class has made me a better writer, person, and listener.  

By: Byshera Moore

The instuctor said,

Go home and write

A page tonight

And let that page come out of you---

Then it will be ture

The turth about my age and what I live through. I am fifteen years old and I live in west philly, what does that say about me. That I got to west philly high, have bad grades and live with a single parent. No I got to SLA, get good greats and live with both my patents. And today I walked into my English 2 class and was told to write a page that was true. True to me. But I don’t know what me to be true to. The me that you see, that one that is happy as can be that sits in class and dose what she is told, works hard, try’s not to step on anyone’s toes. Or the me you don’t see. The me that has bad days and sad days the me that does what to talk. The one you see on the bus with her headphones in and no music playing so that you want talk to her. The me you don’t want to see the me that cry’s or maybe the me that lies and says everything is all right even though she is dying inside. There are too sides of me I am like a coin. There is happy and sad so what do I say true to. Think I will stay true. And say that I live music rock pop rap and hiphop. I am happy and sad I laugh at things that people fine stick and cry at the jokes that you tell because they make me feel unwell.

This is my page for English 2 I hope its not to true for you.

I think that finding your voice comes from living life and see things differently. Everyone has a story and every story gets told.  I feel like finding your voice is saying what you feel and saying what you know. And when you find your voice you can do that. 

I want to write about life and how nothing goes as planned. How a tool for learning turns into your worst nightmare. I want to write about me. And how no matter what great feats I get to I give myself no credit. No matter what feats or falls. I want to write about writing and how long it takes. How it cramps my hand and opens my eyes. How it all ways knows the right words. It lets me shed my pain. I wan to write about you. And how I never thought I deserved you and how you are to good for me. I want to write about the ocean and how I have missed it. How being in the vast body of water makes me feel but you never have a pen when you’re in the moment. I want to write moments and how they never last. 

The sun is up. Its warm but the wind is blowing part me the colors of yellow, orange, and brown dancing through my mind as I sit here. It’s as interpretive dance. The colors are dancers and they are chasing the red-hot sun blue ocean and yellow lemonade away bring the color of baked leafs and sawn costumes. I watched as the wind directed around me. One step two step three step four. They all seemed to go along with flow and the wind carried all their troubles. Wondering aimlessly around, looking for a new journey. The song stuck in my mind. It didn’t have lyrics but a melody for ballerinas, peaceful, delicate, and beautiful. The sun inform of haze that surrounded orange, brown and red leaves. Such wonderful colors that comes once a year. It’s so much more beautiful then the crystals of snow, because these colors aren’t just on the floor but every everywhere. Fall is very beautiful and that is what I love. 

This project is about exploring different points of view. This is centered on the XL/ tar sands pipeline. This is a controversial topic. And there are many opinions and many was to see what the right thing is. My goal for this project was to see if I could write as different people and still convey what I was thinking. I was hard to not write description. But it was more about the characters then what they looked like. Please enjoy the flowing monologues and video.

Walks in. sits down and faces the crowd

 “Hello ladies and gentleman. I am Adam Riss.

 Looks over the crowd with only his eyes, does not move head.

Wow this a lot of people here today. Your eyes look like little lights. Flickering off and on as you blink. There are so many of you. But enough about you; to day I will be taking about the XL pipeline as so know as the Tar sands pipeline. The pipeline will be going from Alberta, Canada down to Texas. It will bring 500,000 barrels of crude oil a day to the U.S. This is a gift from our friends in Canada and we are going to cash in on it. It will open up thousands of jobs for Americans. This is a once and a lifetime opportunity. We have to take this oil.

Clinches first.

 Just think if we could get out from under other countries. We could stop fighting a war for oil. I could bring my brother home after three years.

 Begins to get up the sits back down

Ahem. Sorry for the break in my points. I know for a fact that if we don’t support this some one else will take this oil. We need to stick together and give President Obama the motivation to pass this bill. Yes we can build. I know that there are some points I may have missed. I would hate to take up anymore of your time. So I will take a few questions. Questions? Well, yes the pipeline will be running through the largest source of fresh water in the continent of North American. But I am telling you that there is a very low chance that it will leak or break. So we should not be concerned about that. Well, yes, there was another pipeline that did leak a few times…Twelve times? I can see what you are saying. But this pipe is going to be much stronger. I am sorry but we are out of time. I am Adam Riss and thank you.”

Gets up and wakes away.

The Talk

Chou picks up phone. She is at home when her aunt calls her.

“Hey aunt Sara. What is going on, are you going to come pick me up?

Looks at the phone

Where are you? At the North Run airport. What are you going somewhere? Texas.

Raises voice.

Your going to Texas. Why? Uncle Nick is going to work there. He is going to work in Texas. Why, he had a job here. He is going to work for an oil company. You mean the ones that are working with the Trans Canada people. That is going to destroy that world’s ecosystem even more then it all ready is. Do you know where they’re planning to put the pipe?

Gets up and starts to pace.

It’s going to be over the largest patch freshwater in the continent. Do you know what it means if it leaks? It means that we is have to start paying for water form other places. Water a basic human need. I would take that over oil. Why would you support this? I don’t care if it’s a good job opportunity. Do you care that if he dose this that there will not be a world to have jobs on. I this is not ok at all. What about the people in Canada? The Native Americans that live in Canada. There land will be taken way if you support this. He can find another job.” 

The rug seems to be getting a burn. She is moving so fast that her feet are red.

 “I don’t understand. You don’t understand. For someone how was born and raised in a country that is so developed your thinking really isn’t. Everything that you are saying is point less by.”

No Voice

A piece of then XL pipelines that is lying on the floor, speaking softly.

I’m there thinking of the words that I just heard. I have been here for so long. Just waiting. Waiting for something, or maybe someone. They where moving us. A lot at first but now we are still. I remember the dark room where we where the first time. I was damp we where moving fast. Then I felt the heat all over me. Then to the rocking car what brought use here. The words keep coming; Tar…Sand…Oil. Why do I keep hearing them together? They sound like gravel in a person’s mouth. As if they where trying to make sense of it. But what do they have to do with each other. Tar is hot it burns. Like that room I was in. Sand is at the beach. Cool and soft. And oil powers cars, and everything else in the U.S. They don’t mix.

Moves to another area of the floor.

There hands wrap around my body, now I know what they’re talking about. As they place me in a line. I’m what is moving the tar, sand and oil. I don’t think that is safe. My thin aluminum frame will break. I here more words coming form the workers. New words that I haven’t hared before. Water…pipeline…over…Why would you put water over me. What if the sand gets into it, or the tar? What would happen to the fish? What would happen to the people? This can’t end well. Another worker. Why are they turning me over? A break…a break where… then don’t use me if there is a break. But they can’t hear me. I can’t talk. Then I am placed back in line. I wish I could save the water, the fish, and the people. But I don’t have a voice.

My head is fogged with words and rain. Everything is blurry. The door is swaying or it that me? I land on my bed trying to think or maybe trying not to think of what happened less then an hour ago. My night brown eyes are hot and wet. I am feel the transparent tears welling up in my eyes as then others are running done to the pillow that my head is above. The pillow below me is socked with sadness and anger. The words keep replaying in my mind “Grandma Christen, she is...” She can’t really be gone. Passed away. Don’t act like not saying died makes it better. Everything still hurts.

Everything in the room is drowned out the purple paint on the walls is less bright. The pink, brown, and black pillowcase is fading as if the tears are making the colors run. It is raining and the window to my right is coved in a layer of its on tears. The rain that is hitting the window is getting louder as if it is trying to get me to look over. Tap, tap, tap. “WHAT!” WHAT!” I wanted to scream but yelling at something that was not really would be crazy. A sorrow driven craziness.  . A SARWO DRIVEN CRAZYNESS.I finally look over sick to my stomach to think what is over there that is mover important than the pain I am feeling.

 And there it is the fairy. The fairy that I had gotten in the Poconos when I was seven; It was so pretty in the store and I had to have it. Her eyes are brown like mine and they were just as sad. Glazed down looking away for the sun to focused on what is going on in her mind that the time. On her face here is a smile but its weak. The kind of smile you give when you have lost someone and you know they are not in pain but the feeling of closeness is gone and replaced with sadness. Her lips are like fire burning trying to hold everything back. It is as if she knows everything that I am feeling.

I suddenly don’t feel as alone. Everything has less pain than it just did. But the pain that is left in me wants to throw it on the brick red floor. Watch the one thing that helps get distorted like all the love that I had before that phone call. I don’t want to feel better I should be sad, shouldn’t I? I don’t know anymore I look a way for the statue. And back to the pillow. 

            That day was the worst day of my life. Even thought everything in me wanted to just curl up in a ball, I knew that that was not an option. I had made a promise that she would be at everyone of my graduations and if I lost that fire then there would only be one that she would have missed. This is what made me want to be a perfect student in school. I really didn’t care about what the teachers thought of me. It was all for her. I think back to my middle school graduation was a mixture of happiness and sadness. I just wanted to see her there. Even though it had been three years after she had passed I still wanted to see her.

            We all walked in at the same beat. That beat that you hear at everything it marks a turning point in your life. In my head it was take a year just to get to the stag. What was the point of all of this? I thought to my self as I watched my friend walk down to there seats. After shuffling my feet like a pinging down the side of the stage, we sat down.

I was sitting there looking over the sea of people. They all looked so happy. One mom even had a banner for her daughter. It wad nice to see that they wanted to make this day big for her. My eyes found where my family was sitting. I saw my mom struggling to keep a two-year-old Destiny under control, and watch me. Then, my aunt Pat, who was more dressed up then I was. She was wearing a dress that fit her perfectly. It was a drake color but it didn’t matter her smile made it look hot pink. My dad was there sitting look as if he didn’t know what was going on. But it was ok I just wanted to leave there to.

My name was called “Byshera Moore” and then I walked down to the podium. As I took the diploma I looked one more time over the sea of people. Nowhere. She wasn’t anywhere. I could almost feel ties in my easy but I pushed then back. I sat down then was given two more awards and then it was over. Like shouting start running accost the sky. That day was over. I the next thing that I remember is being in the car driving home. I hate cars. I always feel sick when I am in them. That was my only thought the whole ride. The thought of being sick reminds me of a day a week ago.

I sit that thinking way to I keep coming here with them. As I watch my little sister dance arrowed in the booth next to my mom. My mom looks tired here a black shirt and a part of pants and is trying to keep her quite. “Dest sit down.”  She is trying to keep her voice down but I can see for the way here mouth is starting to curl up she is getting mad. My dad sitting next to me is on his phone trying to look busy. But really is not doing mush. Even though he is holding the phone up I can still see it.

 I am sitting there where my black cami and a brown and gold army like vest. It is achy, but I don’t say anything.  The table’s wood finish was glossy and dark it was nice to see. The lamps were there and but really low. But they didn’t matter that hold place was light with lights form above. I didn’t get that point but ok. The headphones are loud to the point that I cannot here anything. Eminem comes though them like medicine healing me for my pain and anger. Then my stomach started growling it was all most as loud as that music.

Biscuits where left on the table. That only thing I can think of is my grandma. We all ways eat them together every time we come here. I could not help but to think of her. No I am eating them as fast as possible that sadness is not going away “Byshera slow down” says my mom. The warm buttery biscuits and Eminem music down her out. Until.

“Are you ok?” she asks.

The biscuits and water are all over me. The brown and tan mix that was on my shirt and that sent of sickness would say no. I move as fast as I can to the bathroom sadder than I was and now angrier because I just throw up on my self. Well, that is my story of sadness and loss. So what so you think of my fall?

I changed the seize of the leaves and the worlds so that there would be the rule of the thirds. I also used contrast. The red leafs are a contrast to the white world and the white worlds are in contrast to the black bubble rap. I also used bleed off with the light moon so bleu is off. I think this one is better because put more thought in it.