Gabrielle Arnold Public Feed

Humanities Final Portfolio 2013

Posted by Gabrielle Arnold in English 2 - Block on

“I was raised to fight.

Love.

Hurt.

Comfort.

I was raised in conflict.

I was raised within nirvana.”

Over the course of my time in Mr. Block’s class, I have stretched my learning across many different topics.  The Holocaust to the Arab Springs, my time spent C band and E band has been diverse as the school I attend.  Throughout my time in Mr. Block’s class, Mr. Block has made his main point of teaching, the Humanities aspect of all of the topics we have covered over the course of the year.  Within humanities, comes love and compassion and I have learned to put my heart into everything I do in Mr. Block’s class. To sum it up in a quick sentence, I have learned to create humane art, through words, my voice, and movement.

“I was raised a sinner.

Cursing.

Insensitive remarks,

Bruises from big cousins.

Nostrils flaring,

Loud, unruly.”

I first came into Mr. Block’s room, an opinionated 15 year old.  My favorite subject is History, specifically in Civil Rights, so when I found out that Mr. Block’s philosophy on teaching was humanities, I knew it was going to be a very interesting year.  We tackled trials and poetry units, museum proposals and videos.  We used many different outlets to observe, compare and contrast the morality of different historical events.  “I was still young enough to be unaware,

But old enough to question.”

“I have always had a complex vocabulary, according to my mother I was able to say 26 words by the time I was a year old.”  In english class this year, I learned not only how to communicate my ideas through paper, but also through dance, and public speech.  I am a very vocal person in class, to contradict that, I am also very afraid of public speaking.  You can only imagine my nerves when we had to speak in front of Market Street about our opinions on different subjects when we were creating OpEds.  I suppose my vocality in the classroom is not only for a participation grade but also an attempt to break the nervousness that takes over.  This class has taught me to break outside of my comfort zone.

I had to break outside of my comfort zone yet again when I was placed in a group that had to defend Hernando Cortez’ “exploration” of Mexico.  While morally, I was completely against what he did to current day Mexico, I knew I had a job to do, which was make him look as innocent as possible.  “Cortes sought to pacify, not provoke; to appease with gifts, not oppress with guns.” While my group still ended up the most “guilty”, I was proud of myself for pushing myself to try to make a man, who did the most terrible of things, look innocent.  

Throughout my year in Mr. Block’s class I learned how to push boundaries and I became a more compassionate person when it comes to historical events.  I pushed myself to be more open to different ideas, and learned to defend things that I was not morally in agreement with.  Mr. Block’s class has led me to be a better person. When I walked out of my first class of the year, “I was unaware I was leaving a piece of me behind.”






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Journal Blog Post

Posted by Gabrielle Arnold in English 2 - Block on
Journal #41​

" 'I am talking about societies drained of their essence, cultures trampled underfoot, institutions undermined, lands confiscated, religions smashed, magnificent artistic creations destroyed, extraordinary possibilities wiped out...' - Amie Cesaire, Discourse on Colonialism

I agree with this sentence because this is essentially what happens to societies through out history.  The Native American's population pre-colonization was in the millions.  Now, after colonization, Native Americans are only about 2% of the U.S. Population.  The Native Americans that did survive the colonization and the things that came with it (smallpox outbreak), were often put in schools that strip them of their culture, their Gods, their beliefs only to be more Eurocentric, which to the colonizers, is more civilized."

Journal Blog Post

Posted by Gabrielle Arnold in World History - Block on
Journal #45

" 'The degree of civilization in a society can be judged by entering it's prison" - Fyodor Dostoevsky'


I agree and disagree with this statement.  I think that the degree of civilization should also be dependent on how many people are imprisoned.  Sure the way convicted felons are treated makes a difference in which countries are more humane, but ultimately what matters in a "civilized" perspective is how many people are incarcerated and how effective the system is at rehabilitating them to be citizens of society.  The most uncivilized countries are the most lackadaisical by throwing people in jail and leaving them in a cycle that only throws them back in jail."

Quarter 3 Art Work

Posted by Gabrielle Arnold in Art Advanced - Hull on
In quarter three, everybody had the same curriculum for art, with the exception of an extra art project we had to create. My extra art project was a ceiling tile with the Wonder Woman logo on it, (who doesn't want a little female empowerment).  I made a traced it on the tile and painted it the traditional wonder woman colors.  The art curriculum this quarter took me out of my element with shading, which is not my best friend.  I worked hard to make artwork I can be proud of even though I'm very much more of a "clean" drawer.
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My Auto-Biography

Posted by Gabrielle Arnold in English 2 - Block on
​This Quarter in English we learned about language and how it affects many people's lives.  Our benchmark for the quarter was to create a language auto-biography which shows reflection on language and it's influence over my life.  Partnered with my auto-biography is a video that summarizes the main theme of my auto-biography, change.

" My mother told me that my first words were “up please”, something simple for any child to ask- except I was the ripe age of 9 months old. I have always had a complex vocabulary, according to my mother I was able to say 26 words by the time I was a year old.  Since I was unable to walk yet, I suppose I attempted to let my mother know exactly what I wanted and needed.  My mother likes to relate my early talking with the fact that I could read basic reading books with ease by the time I was two.  Needless to say that language is possibly the biggest part of communication.  Now, at 15 years old, I speak multiple different “languages”.  I define language as something that is spoken by a group of people, so by my definition there are languages within languages.
The first language I learned was English.  There are many different variations of English in my life.  Proper English, improper english, slang, Philly Slang, New England Slang, but the form of english I am most fluent in besides English, is basketball.  Yell out “backdoor cut” into a crowd and watch how many people turn around.  By the time I was 6 I could watch basketball, speak basketball, sign basketball and do scoreboards.  I have basketball in my blood, its not a second nature to me.
In a bigger way New England flows through my veins.  The New England terminology is my first language.  I spent the first five years of my life in Amherst, Massachusetts.  About two and a half hours west of Boston, in Amherst the accent is a little thinner, the English is more proper, there is no difference between the inner city accent and the suburban accent because Amherst is more of a farming town.  I still have a faint New England accent to show my roots.  

I remember when I first moved to Philly, I was five years old and beginning my kindergarten year at Norwood Fontbonne Academy, a Catholic School in Chestnut Hill.  I walked down the stairs in my favorite polo dress and my hair in one ponytail and hopped in the car after what seemed like thousands of pictures from my overly emotional mother.  I never understood the tears, I mean, I did go to preschool for three years before that.  We rolled into the construction filled school in our Ford Explorer with the Massachusetts license plate.  Nervousness ran through my whole body. I sat down on the “magic carpet” when we went around the circle to say our names and where we are from.  When it was my turn I sat up straight, head held high, and said “My name is Gabrielle Aahrnold and I am from Amhuuuuurst Massachusetts.”  Naturally my teachers were concerned that I wasn’t developing my phonics correctly.  Fast forward 10 years later with a little “Hooked on Phonics” and “speech therapy”, I speak with little to no accent.  

My accent was one of the things that defined me.  Amherst is in my blood.  My accent made me different from everyone else.  I stood out from the crowd.  I wasn’t just a Philly girl, I was an Amherst girl, and damn proud of it.  I still am an Amherst girl... but a Philly girl as well.  My accent was a conversation starter, something distinct, something beautiful.  That’s the beauty of language, regardless of how your voice sounds, where you are and who you’re with.  There will always be someone who will listen to your voice and instantly connect with you.  Their voice rubs off on you.

I began attending Germantown Friends School September of 2003.  My vocabulary from the time I was very young has always been vaster than what was the expectation. Over time I began to talk more and more like my peers, we began our own language.  “Obvi” began to slowly creep into my “all the time vocabulary, annoying my parents and pushing my cousins to call me “white girl”.  My aunt began to taunt my cousins and I when she saw us talking, “And I’m like, and he’s like, and I’m like and he’s like”.  She says this to this day.  I’ve changed schools so the taunting hasn’t been as severe since I picked up a majority of my other cousin’s vocabulary when I began attending Science Leadership Academy in the fall of 2011.

When I began attending Science Leadership Academy, I learned a new type of English, Philly slang.  Most of my friends at GFS were from the outskirts of Philly, we had our own slang.  “That’s dead” slowly began to creep into my vocabulary so much so that my mother has begun saying it.  

I love that my language reflects all the places I have been in life.  Amherst, Philly, Norwood, SLA.  My language is like one of my style, something that is visible always and represents who I am to the fullest. "

https://vimeo.com/58413181

Sugar Skull Project

Posted by Gabrielle Arnold in Art Advanced - Hull on
  1. Explain in your own words what a sugar skull is.
  2. Explain how you came up with the design for your mask/skull.
  3. Explain the process from beginning to the end, the process that you went from having no mask to having a finished and painted mask. 

    A sugar skull is used in the Mexican "Day of the Dead" that usually takes place a day after Halloween.  The skull is usually adorned with many colorful designs, or in some cases black and white.  The skull is to represent a deceased family member.  My design for my skull is a simple black and white design that was inspired by paisley and Mayan artifacts.  The first part of creating my sugar skull included plastering a friend's face for the mold of my mask (THANKS FRANKIE!), then once the mask dried, I painted over the mask with white paint to give the mask a solid base.  Then I began painting my design from the forehead down.  

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Keystone XL Pipeline Monologue Project

Posted by Gabrielle Arnold in World History - Block on
​ For the past two weeks, our class has been devoted to learning about the Keystone Pipeline Proposal.  The Keystone Pipeline will run from Canada to Texas, using Canadian Tar-sands as the new North American resource for energy.  The pipeline has brought controversy and conflict between politicians and environmentalists.  The pipeline has become such a big deal that it has come up in the Presidential Election.  The politicians in support of the pipeline say that because Canada is an ally and the fact that the tar-sands do not have to travel overseas, that oil will be cheaper, there will be more jobs and that the economy will be better.  Environmentalists that are not in support of the pipeline say that the Tar-sands will create a "game-over" situation for the environment.  My project, was to create three monologues, with three different opinons on the tar-sands and Americans and their relationship with the environment in general.  I wrote as a teenager against the pipeline, a politician at a press conference endorsing the pipeline, and Mother Earth herself.  Before you watch this video I strongly suggest looking over some facts that I have provided, I hope you enjoy.

It’s politics
Hello, I would like thank the everyone at this press conference for allowing me to endorse the pipelines.  We, the American people have been in an economic downfall for the past 4 years.  Pipeline creates plenty of jobs for our American people.  We deserve to spend no more than 3 dollars a gallon on oil for our cars, our homes, and our stoves.  This is our chance to get back to greatness.  This is clean energy, cheap energy, job creating energy to power our country back on top of the economic food chain.  For those fearing that this too new and too risky, there are over 200,000 similar smaller pipelines all throughout the U.S. of A.  
TransCanada seems to agree with the plan that will create thousands and possibly millions of jobs that will bring the unemployment rate down.  Canada has also been using similar pipes for more than 50 years.  This new possible project will be powered by the 0.1%.  0.1% meaning that 0.1% of Canada’s forests will be affected by mining.  0.1% pollution will be created by the Canadian tarsands.  This is an incredible opprotunity!  I will open up the field to questions from the press now.  Fire away!

Well good question sir, for those of us who are on the fence about the tarsands and the enviornment, this is a clean american energy, to heat our american homes and to create american jobs.  This is will solve our issues with the middle east, this will bring less conflict and less dependence on other countries.  
Another good question, this is AMERICAN ENERGY.  Not as much travel as foreign energy, it all makes sense.  This energy is clea-.  
How is it clean you ask? Well the tarsands are accessed through drilling, then they are watered down and fed throughout the 17,000 mile long pipe.  No, no, no, no, no, the chance of the pipes leaking fluid are slim to none.  As I stated before, there are over 200,000 similar smaller pipelines all throughout the U.S.
I am not familiar to that study, no it will not be game over for the U. S. environment.  Hell, China is so polluted that its hard to see through the smog.  The tarsands aren't an awful air pollutant.  Look how well China is doing.  
*phone buzzes, from rep*
I would like to thank the press, and God bless america

Mother nature

I have been pulled apart, drilled, pounded and stomped on.  I've been bombed and beaten, driven on and through and now, just when I thought I was paved down, smoothed and filed the most.  I'm getting drilled into again, near my head this time.  Its like humans are performing surgery on my brain.  Taking away my lifeblood, they are are forming an artificial artery that will go from my neck to my stomach, because they are tired of giving me blood transfusions from my arms to my chest.  

Its not cleansing me its dirty I'm sick and tired of coughing, the air that surrounds me cloudy and muddy and I'm grasping for fresh air. Its funny to think that what you created is destroying you.  Well what I created is destroying me, taking advantage of me.  I made a monster.  These humans are monsters.

Permission slip.

Mom! Mom!
I really need to tell you something! Mom listen.
I need to go to this rally tomorrow, like I NEED TO GO TO THIS RALLY !
Its about these tarsands, you know the ones that we heard Mitt Romney endorse, you see its going to be game over for our environment if President Obama supports it.  My teacher is from Canada and they use tarsands there too, its not as clean as you think it is.  
Mom, just because it will create jobs doesn't mean its the right thing to do.  I know this won't affect you, but it will effect me and my kids, and my kid's kid's.  We, as people have destroyed this earth with every innovation we have made since the beginning of time.  I want our country to treat the earth as kind as the earth has treated us.  Mom, mom I need to go to this rally.  Mom I don't give a damn about class tomorrow, how am I supposed to care.  Mom you're in denial about the fact that the pipeline is running through our town.  They, they didn't tell you yet? Mom, this town is small, one  piece of the pipe breaks and our town, the streets, the shops and the roads are gone.  I need to help strengthen the voice of my generation.  Like I said before it doesn't affect you, it affects me.  My kids, and my kids kids.  Just sign the slip.

https://vimeo.com/51522523
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Descriptive Essay: Grief freed me.

Posted by Gabrielle Arnold in English 2 - Block on

My mom picked me up at four thirty on September 30th, a Thursday.  Four Thirty, way earlier than usual. Dressed in blue jeans and sweater, this was not her work attire.  Perhaps she just had one of those awful migraines she gets at least once a month.  Walking through the burnt orange leaves my mom and I pass the main building, and the middle school building. My mom has not said a word.  She hits the “unlock” button twice to enter her Mercury Mountineer.  As I sit down to buckle my seatbelt, she parts her lips to speak the unfathomable.  “At around one o’clock today, Aunt Jackie died.”   Aunt Jackie, my mom’s stepsister was possibly the most angelic person I had ever met.  As my mom struggled holding back the tears to speak again a wave of numbness ran through my whole body.  “She, she had one of those attacks again. She called 911, and went out to the porch.  It was too late she collapsed face first to the ground and died shortly afterward.”  I didn’t know what to think.  My mother, already small in stature, curled up in a ball on the driver’s side and cried.  I couldn’t look at her.  I stared.

Like a car wreck that was so horrible that you couldn’t look away.  I stared at my mother.  For her to cry was so unlike her, for her to sob, life was not real.  After 30 seconds of staring, I came back down to reality.  She was gone.  Our plan to go to the library would never happen.  She couldn’t make fun of my mother for how we “organized” our Tub-a-ware anymore.  She was gone.  I broke down, I hadn’t cried so hard in all my 13 years of life.  I grabbed at my jeans, like my mother I had curled into a ball on the passenger’s side of the car. By the time the rage unraveled me from the tight ball I was in, my blouse was half stained with the eruption of anger that poured from my eyes.  I could have screamed.  My faith in God was tested that day.  How could He have let a person who had done so much good in her life, leave life in such a short, random, painful manner.  Sarcoidosis had claimed her, took over her body, and took her away in one fatal swoop.  

My mom told me she was laying in a coroner’s office.  They found her in a pool of blood on her front porch.  The time I wanted to scream, let out my anger. I was in a parked car, on Coulter Street.  With a completely inconsolable mother, and a face marked red with anger, grief and shock.  These were the worst ten minutes I have ever had in my life.  This was my first time grieving.

Death was never a fear of mine until I was thirteen years old.  The day she died.  I never ever wanted to make anyone cry and seeing what death had done to my mother, from this point on I wanted to be immortal.  I crunched through the leaves and walked up the two sets of stairs and into the house.  Throwing my bag down on the antique couch in my living room, I swiftly ran up the stairs to get to my room. I peeled off my homeroom sweatshirt, kicked off my nikes and sat down on my bed and I cried.   

The worst part of grief is from the second of notification leading up to the funeral.  No closure, no celebration, just sadness.  Nothing feels right, the next couple of days I would sit in the unshakeable feeling of death.   I walked through school with fake smiles and conversations that felt unbearably long.  I walked into the computer lab the day after she passed, to find my best friend Sarah, who coincidentally was dealing with grief as well.  We cried together in the dark computer room that friday morning, until Rhonda, our computer teacher walked into the room.  Rhonda then told my advisor and thats how word spread around and I dealt with the pity party for another good week.  Grief, grudges with God.  I couldn’t understand why my Lord took her away so soon. I could only wait for the funeral to come, and then hell would be over.

I stood there, pain stricken, trying to understand why she was gone.  I creeped into the church, slowly, timidly.  My eyes wide with fear of what I was about to see.  My aunt, adorned in white linens and lace, laid undisturbed, untroubled in a white casket.  I walked slowly down the shaggy tan carpeting, passing rows and rows of people.; to look at Jackie for one last time.

She laid there as I stood looking at her, face to corpse,  niece to aunt.  Now to be honest, for a dead person, she still had color.  She didn't have an eerie gray coloring. Perhaps that was the makeup that they put on the deceased to make sure they just look like they are sleeping.  They kept her hair short, she usually hid it behind a hair scarf.  Her skin was still the color of caramel, except for the swollen parts of her lip from when she had fell onto her patio. Those were stained with the obvious color of concealer and foundation, which when looked at thoroughly, was black, blue and blood red.  I began to feel uncomfortable in my own skin.  

My lips were locked together by the shear antipathy that this would be my last encounter with my aunt Jackie, for the rest of my life.  My MaryJanes carried me back across the old carpet as I promptly took my seat next to my mother, who had been a wreck for a week.  And my uncle, who had been a wreck for a day.  I felt frigid, numb, and cold to the touch.  I felt like I had died, my stomach dropped as I was about to be consumed with grief for the next three and a half hours of my life.


As much as funerals bring closure to loved ones, it is the most uncomfortably painful yet healing part of the grieving process.  Looking at my aunt for the last time, felt like saying goodbye to a piece of me.  My eyes attempted to avoid her, I didn’t want to come to grips with the fact that she was gone.  The funny thing about death is it brings out the sheer delusion in all of us.  The night terrors, the visions of her sitting right next to me in school.  It is something you can never escape.

For the most part I had blacked out through a majority of the funeral.  I didn’t cry, thats all I knew.  The expectations for grief is to cry, scream, break something.  Let all the pain out in one blow.  This was all I saw in the movies.  This is what I expected of myself.  I never knew I could feel so cold, numb, heartless.  The last memory I have from the day of her funeral was lowering her casket into the burial plot.  I can honestly say, as painful as that was to watch, the amount of closure I received in those few moments was incredible.  I now know that I may not get her back, I won’t ever get her back, but she is wrapped around me in every step I take.  In the words of my aunt; “In death the only thing that dies is the body, the shell.  The spirit stays around us all for ever, even as we move on to new adventures. Everyday the spirits of our ancestors look down upon us, to guide us through life.”  I was freed from grief.  Or perhaps grief freed me.

Gabrielle y Thomas... Nos Casa por Wynn

Posted by Gabrielle Arnold in Spanish 1 - Manuel on
P​ara el proyecto, nos cliente es Wynn Geary. Wynn está un chico sotaro y hace $12,000,000 dollares del año. Wynn le gusta el color verde y casas grande.  Wynn es un diseñador gráfico.  Wynn es muy intellegente y simpatico, Wynn es sociable tambien. Wynn usa un bicicleta por su forma de transportación.  Wynn le gusta blogging.  

Por la casa, no tiene un garaje porque Wynn usa un bicicleta.  La cocina es grande por que Wynn le gusta cocinar.  La casa es grande por que Wynn le gusta las casas grande.  Tiene dormitorios grandes por que Wynn le gusta espacio.  La casa tiene cuatro dormitorios por que Wynn queire niños en el futuro.  La casa tiene dos porque es una casa grande. La casa tiene tres baños por todos los pisos. La casa tiene una oficina por que Wynn le gusta trabajar en la computadora. La casa tiene una sala por los amigos de Wynn y fiestas.  La casa tiene un jardin por que Wynn le gusta la natura.

La casa para Wynn es muy moderna y grande, goce!
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NEGATIVE SPACE!

Posted by Gabrielle Arnold in Art - 9 - Hull on
Negative Space Reflection:

1. Photograph your negative space cut outs

2. Photograph your negative space drawings

3. Upload them to your blog

4. Answer the following questions in full sentences.

A. What is negative space (explain this concept to a fourth grader that has never heard of it)

Negative space is the space around an object.

B. Explain how you found negative space in 1. your cut out?, 2. in your stool drawing?

I found the negative space by tracing out side the actual objects.

C. Why does it help an artist to see in negative space?

It helps an artist observe the objects in an easier  way and it is easier to see the shapes.

D. Does seeing in negative space enhance drawings, why or why not


Negative space enhances drawings because the shape is more defined and clear.


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Photo04271106

Lindsay Lohan

Posted by Gabrielle Arnold in Spanish 1 - Manuel on

 el desayuno



lunes

Bebidas: Una Inca Kola

El pollo frito con dos postres

martes

Bebidas: Una soda de naranja

Dos bollos de miel y una postre chocolate

miércoles

Bebidas: jugo de naranja

Dos hambureguesas

jueves

Bebidas: jugo de pina

Tres hamburguesas

viernes

Bebidas: el leche chocolate

Un postre

sábado


Bebidas: té frio

chocolate

domingo

cereal y la cerezal
Bebida

el postre de fresas

 

La Parte 1: El Secreto del Conejo

Posted by Gabrielle Arnold in Spanish 1 - Manuel on

 Hay una familia en la playa de Puerto Rico.  Hay un papá, una mamá, un hijo y una hija. La familia tiene una casa grande.  La familia tiene un conejo.  Es un conejo pequeño.  El conejo es muy importante.  El conejo tiene un secreto.  El conejo está triste. El conejo llora.  El conejo le dice al papá, “El mar, Mamacocha, no está contento. Mamacocha va a destruir el Caribean.  Hay un problema.  Es problema grande. 

 

El conejo le dice al papá, “Ve al centro con tu familia.”  El conejo camina hacia el centro con su familia.   El centro se llama San Juan.

 

 

Gabrielle <3

Posted by Gabrielle Arnold in Spanish 1 - Manuel on
Soy Gabrielle. Tengo catorce años. Soy basante activa. Es por eso que yo practico yoga y bailo mucho. Yo practico deportes tambien.  Me encanta cocinar mucho. Por la tanto yo cocino a veces por mi familia.  Soy súper sociable. Asi que yo paso un rato con amigos cuando tengo tiempo libre. Para exito en mis clases, necessito estudiar todos los días. Soy muy artistica.  Por la tanto dibujo mucho.
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Describiendo Mi Vida Escolar

Posted by Gabrielle Arnold in Spanish 1 - Manuel on
SLA es muy divertida, interesante y differente.  SLA tiene muchas clubes, actividades, clases interesantes y profesores interesantes tambien.  SLA tiene 500 estudiantes y 30 professores.  SLA locado en Center Ciudad Filadelfia (22 y Arch).  Me encanta SLA porque es muy divertida, interesante, y mejor que mi escuela primero.

Mi sinopsis que Hisotria Africana Americana:

Class:  La historia que Africana Americana

Location: El salón que Africana Americana

Personas y cosas:  Señor Baird, Rashawn, Doug, La computadora, estudiantes, el lápiz, el cuaderno y la computadora.

Actividades en la clase: Leemos en Evernote, discutimos y tomar notas.

Mi opinon: Me gusta la clase mucho porque es muy libre y interesante.

Mi sinopsis que Literatura:

Clase: La clase de Litureatura

Location: El salón que Señor Kay

Personas y cosas: Señor Kay, las Señortias Gina y Briana, los estudiantes el cuaderno, el lápiz y los libros.

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¡Hola Joender!

Posted by Gabrielle Arnold in Spanish 1 - Manuel on

Quirerdo Joender,

 

 ¡Saludos desde Filadelfia!  ¿Qué paso?  Estoy bien. Me llamo es Gabrielle y tengo catorce años.  Mi cumpleaños es 27 de junio.  ¿Cuál es tú cumpleaños?  Yo soy de Massachusetts pero vivo en Filadelfia.  Yo vivo con mi madre y mi padre. Mi madre es una abogada y mi padre es un entrenador de basquetbol por los Saint Joseph universidad.  ¿Cual es tiempo en Maracaibo?  El tiempo en Filadelfia ahora es frío, en el otoño hace fresco, en el invierno hace mucho frío.  En la primavera y el verano, hace calor o bastante calor. 

 ¿Qué te gusta hacer? Me gusta pasar un rato con mis amigos y ver baloncesto.  ¿Qué es tu deporte favorita? Mi deporte favorita es baloncesto o softball.  No me gusta tenis o lacrosse.  ¿Qué música te gusta escuchar?  Mi me gusta hip hop y R&B, mi artista favorita es Lauryn Hill o Amy Winehouse. 

Soy un deportista y muy interesante.  Yo soy una mezcla de razas.  Soy alta y delgada y boba y atlética.  ¿Y tú? ¿Cómo eres?

Bueno, me voy porque tengo que estudiar.  ¡Adiós! Yo soy en Facebook, mi nombre es Gabrielle Tryce Arnold.

 

graduation
graduation

Mi mama

Posted by Gabrielle Arnold in Spanish 1 - Manuel on
La mujer en el foto es mi madre.  Mi madre es una mujer super comica sin embargo muy serio.  Mi madre es de Filadelfia y no recuerdo edad de mi mama.  Su nombre de mi mama es Stephanie Ann.  Mi madre le encanta bailar y yo también.  Mi mama no le gusta nada ayudar en la casa ni cocinar por muchas horas.  Me encanta mi mama y mi mama le encanta mi.
Photo on 10-14-11 at 9.55 PM #2
Photo on 10-14-11 at 9.55 PM #2

Basic Conversation/ How are you?

Posted by Gabrielle Arnold in Spanish 1 - Manuel on
So your mom surprises you and your family with a great big trip to Costa Rica! Problem is thats a spanish speaking country and you need some basic understanding of what to say. Well we got the solution for you with these charts:
Screen Shot 2011-11-01 at 12.32.13 PM
Screen Shot 2011-11-01 at 12.32.13 PM
Screen Shot 2011-11-01 at 12.31.58 PM
Screen Shot 2011-11-01 at 12.31.58 PM

The Weather.

Posted by Gabrielle Arnold in Spanish 1 - Manuel on
Ever feel like saying the weather in english is too easy? Want to teach some of your friends another language?  Have you ever had the dream to be a bilingual weatherperson? Use this chart to help you memorize the language (and your secret dream).  


For more info: http://www.scienceleadership.org/blog/Los_Dias_de_la_Semana--days_of_the_week

http://www.scienceleadership.org/blog/alfabeto

Screen Shot 2011-10-21 at 8.49.18 AM
Screen Shot 2011-10-21 at 8.49.18 AM

Los Meses del Ano...... the months of the year

Posted by Gabrielle Arnold in Spanish 1 - Manuel on
Tired of always saying the months in english, only to get corrected by Señorita Manuel or your Spanish speaking friends?  Well I was too until i created a chart to better understand the names of the months. So create a chart, sing a little song, or make some flash cards on quizlet.  Whatever floats your boat will help you get better.

REMEMBER THEIR ARE NO CAPITALS IN SAYING THE SPANISH MONTH NAME. THAT IS ONLY FOR ENGLISH SILLY GOOSE!

watch our little video for our special song to memorize because we were studying!

If you want some more spanish info, go to my Pareja's pages! http://www.scienceleadership.org/blog/Los_Dias_de_la_Semana--days_of_the_week

http://www.scienceleadership.org/blog/alfabeto



Screen Shot 2011-10-19 at 12.40.27 PM
Screen Shot 2011-10-19 at 12.40.27 PM
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