Ingredients  

4 skinless, boneless chicken breast halves

salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
2 eggs
4 cups panko bread crumbs
1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese
2 tablespoons all-purpose flour, or more if needed
1 cup olive oil for frying
1/2 cup prepared tomato sauce
1/4 cup fresh mozzarella, cut into small cubes
1/4 cup chopped fresh basil
1/2 cup grated provolone cheese
1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese

1. Preheat an oven to 450 degrees.
2. Place chicken breasts between two sheets of heavy plastic (resealable freezer bags work well) on a solid, level surface. Firmly pound chicken with the smooth side of a meat mallet to a thickness of 1/2-inch. Season chicken thoroughly with salt and pepper.
3. Beat eggs in a shallow bowl and set aside.
4. Mix bread crumbs and 1/2 cup Parmesan in a separate bowl, set aside.
5. Place flour in a sifter or strainer; sprinkle over chicken breasts, evenly coating both sides.
6. Dip flour coated chicken breast in beaten eggs. Transfer breast to breadcrumb mixture, pressing the crumbs into both sides. Repeat for each breast. Set aside breaded chicken breasts for about 15 minutes.
7. Heat 1 cup olive oil in a large skillet on medium-high heat until it begins to shimmer. Cook chicken until golden, about 2 minutes on each side. The chicken will finish cooking in the oven.
8. Place chicken in a baking dish and top each breast with about 1/3 cup of tomato sauce. Layer each chicken breast with equal amounts of mozzarella cheese, fresh basil, and provolone cheese. Sprinkle 1 to 2 tablespoons of Parmesan cheese on top and drizzle with 1 tablespoon olive oil.
9. Bake in the preheated oven until cheese is browned and bubbly, and chicken breasts are no longer pink in the center, 15 to 20 minutes. An instant-read thermometer inserted into the center should read at least 165 degrees.

While this isn’t the healthiest meal it could be worse. The frying would be the least healthy part of the process. The calories came out to a little over 700 which isn’t bad. Eating this and only this will result in a decrease in many things but one that sticks out is iron. This meal has little iron and would result in weaker bones. The amount of cards is only about 80 grams which would make a person have much less energy. Somebody who only ate this wouldn’t be able to do much. The food I would have used would not have been locally grown. The tomatoes came from California. So they didn’t travel too far but they did travel. The meal cost under 30 dollars which is more than fast food but also much better for you than fast food. Growing my own tomatoes would have made the cost go down as well as the reifications on the environment.

This unit has taught me a lot. The obesity part of the unit taught me the most. Like most Americans I assumed that obesity only lead to heart disease and diabetes.  To  find out it also causes stroke and depression was eye opening. The study where Australians were put onto the western diet and got many diseases, was the most revealing. It really showed how great out choice in food can affect us and those around us.

As a teenager I can actively choose what to it. A child is at the whim of what their parents want to eat. Now I can help decide what my family eats. I am able to make my family healthier by asking for better foods. This change would give my family more energy and help us to make better choices all around. My family has tried to make these changes. every time we do we all feel better until we slip again. This often happens after about two months. We all exercise and eat right but then a holiday roles around and we all slip back into old habits. It is easier for the youth of my house to make these changes as we all can play sports at our respective schools. My parents have a harder time but support us in our choices.

Originally I was afraid that my group wouldn’t work well together and therefore wouldn’t get done. I was surprised to see that in most classes most of my group was actually working. I took point on the website and had Markietra take point on the posters. 

The website, while good in theory, wasn’t successful. As of now we only have 8 viewers. I don’t understand why though. We have put posters up at SEPTA stops and a few in the school. People just aren’t interested in this site. The process went well. Everything was done on time and to completion. I was the main one who came up with ways to actually change SEPTA. I didn’t really get help from my group. That part of the site is what the message really is.

We started wanting to do a PSA but there was no way to count how many people saw it or if people reacted to it, so that failed. The website was the only way we saw to get a number for the people who saw it. The website came out looking nice but again didn’t get many viewers.

Overall I think that with some more time the website will accumulate views. I hope that eventually it will become guidelines for people on SEPTA. The fact is people just don’t care. When SEPTA becomes bad enough people will find the website and will start to follow the rules.

• When I did this project I realized education wasn't valued by my parents when they were kids. This surprised me because of the emphasis they put on education now. Crossing boundaries means to go against things that society expects. It means to go against the status quo. There is always a cost when crossing boundaries. It just isn't always apparent. The cost my parents was money. They didn't make as much money. The only weakness I had was my procrastination. After I got started the project was easy.

Say it again

“Say it again,” said Kimberly, my cousin, excitedly.

“Cir,” I said. It was supposed to be car but I had an accent.

“Why do you say it like that,” Nick, my brother asked.

To me saying ‘cir’ was car. I was confused, “I don’t know it just sort of comes out that way.”

Later that day we went to my father.
“Dad listen to this, Matt say car,” Nick said.

“Cir.”

“Why do you sound like that,” asked my father.

“I don’t know it just sort of comes out like that.”

“Aunt Cynthia is a speech therapist. Do you want to go to her about it?”

“No, I’m sure it will just go away.” At this point I was getting upset. I didn’t want to be different, and I didn’t hear a difference. This all happened while we were camping. The next day at school more of my friends noticed my accent.

“That’s weird. Say Rochelle,” my friend Rochelle said.

“Rochelle.” I said it completely normally.

“Alright now say car again.”

“Cir.”

“Weird. Say Park.”

“Perk.”

“So you can’t say the letter r. You can make the sound that r makes, but you can’t say the letter.”

“Oh.”

This has happened countless times. I thought that the people who found it the weirdest would be my friends, however I was wrong. My third grade teacher, Ms. Westcott, was the worst about it. She devoted an entire hour making me say words that I couldn’t say. Even after that she couldn’t understand the words I was trying to say.

“Where are you from,” she asked the same day.

“Philly.”

“How about your parents?”

“Philly.”

“Then how do you have an accent?”

“I don’t know,” and the truth is I didn’t. I hadn’t figured it out.

My brother would have to convey information. He always understood it the best. The reason is that he was exposed to it the most. He was my best friend; we lived together, and had every class together. He also lacks the accent, which was more convenient for translating.

I tried again and again to get rid of my accent. To repeat the word car or park so I could be normal again. I wanted to sound like everybody else. Mike Rose writes, “Who wants to be normal,” in his book “I just wanna be average.” The answer was, me. I wanted to be like all of the other people in my class. Speak and act like them. However, after a few years, I realized my accent represented me. My brother and I are identical twins and people get us confused. Then I developed my accent. It became my identity, my difference from Nick. To tell us apart, people tell us to talk. I finally had my own thing. I was no longer one of the twins. I was the twin with the accent. I was the kid with the accent (although everybody still called me Matt). And I liked that.

I realized that not everybody is the same. Everybody had their own thing that set them apart from everybody else. Mine, of course, was my accent. There were smart kids and funny kids, but nobody had an accent like I did. I was special.

High school brought on a new experience. Nick wasn’t there to translate, even though my accent had lessened through the years. I was afraid I would have to write the words I was trying to say. But nobody noticed my accent. Most of my class understood my accent. It wasn’t until I pointed it out one day in history that people started to notice, or at least ask about it.

“Wait. Say park again.”

“Perk.”

“Where does you accent come from?”

“I’m not sure. It just kinda developed when I was in second grade.”

“Oh. Alright.”

And that was it. Nothing else except the occasional “say car again.” I was shocked. People picked up the words I was saying much faster than in elementary school. I felt like I lost what had set me apart. I knew I still had it though. I never noticed it though, until I had to make a video. I realized how weird I sounded.

It wasn’t until English class this year that I knew where my accent came from. We watched a video about language. The video told us that people from Boston were about to speak. My friend Victoria, who was sitting next to me, said, “Hey it’s your people.”

“No they aren’t I can say Merge,” this was soon after a man on the video said Merge (meaning Marge).

Victoria just laughed.

“Alright but I can say perk.”

That’s when I came to the realization that I had a Boston accent. It wasn’t until we wrote this paper that I realized how my accent has effect my life. It was my identity for a long time. My language never controlled me; I didn’t stop speaking because of it. I didn’t change because of it. I instead let it become me, let it set me apart.

“I only had a little”

Glenn (surprised), I wasn’t expecting you to be up. I thought you were going to bed. You know don’t you? I can tell you know. At least you aren’t dad. I didn’t break curfue. I only had a little. Everybody else was doing it. I knew and trusted everybody there. Those can be my arguments. Just in case dad finds out. He will ground me I understand that. (Pause) I could just tell him. I would get in a lot less trouble, like when criminals plead guilty. He will see that it was harmless. Remind him that he did it when he was a kid. He will not hurt me then. I will still get yelled at, just not hit. I know he does not normally hit me but this might set him over. Although he did not hit you when he caught you. I will tell him the names of the people I was with. He knows them and trusts them. He will understand that I could not have been hurt with them around. No damage was done to myself. I will not tell him who brought it. That way everybody who was there will get in the same amount of trouble. I will remind him that all of my grades are fine and will not be affected. Remind him that I have never broken any rules, well except for this. I will tell him I have been the child who helped when it was needed. I was the only one who ever told the truth, even when I was getting in trouble too.

I do not have a problem. I only tried it once and did not like the taste. That will not work will it? He will assume I am lying about trying it once if I say I don’t like the taste. If I plead guilty I will not get in trouble for lying. That would only add to my punishment. Hopefully he will not tell me I can’t see Steve, Josh, or Ryan again. I can’t really make an excuse to hang out with the people who got me to drink. I will still see them at school, but it won’t be the same. It is not like I am drunk. I will be able to get up and go to school in the morning no problem. I won’t have a hangover. I just had a sip. 

“Are you okay?” my brother, Josh, yelled.

“Ummmm,” I responded.

He then came running into the laundry room. He saw the broken glass of the back door. He looked at me, “What happened?”

“I was mad and slammed the door closed. Then the glass just broke.”

“You know you have to call mom, right?”

“I know. I’ll call her later.” I went upstairs to my room. I was still pissed.

All throughout my childhood I heard, “Think before you act.” I knew that I had to do this and I usually did, unless I was angry. If I was angry there was no stopping me. You couldn’t calm me down. I just had to find an outlet for my anger, and then be left alone. What’s worse is it’s easy to make me angry. So sometimes a little problem would set me off.

It isn’t always anger that makes me not think. One time when I was younger, my brothers and I were playing around. My twin Nick and I were trying to keep my older brother out of our room, I was having fun. My brother found a walking stick and put it in the space between the door and the doorframe. I should have stopped for a moment, to think it was a bad idea to close the door. I was having too much fun to think. So I pushed the door as hard as I could. The door snapped off of the hinges. Out of fear, we decided not to tell my father. He found out anyways and wasn’t too angry.

When I was 14 my brothers took a joke too far. This made me very angry. I walked out of the living room and into my laundry room. I didn’t know what to do, so I slammed my back door closed. The glass shattered. I ran upstairs to my room still very angry. I just had to be alone. Later I went down to clean up the glass. I told my mom later that day. She wasn’t mad; she just wished I had told her right away.

About two years ago I was wrestling with my younger cousins. They are both boys and were 9 and 7. They always liked wrestling with my brothers and me. We were having a lot of fun. I had the eight year old, Stephfon, pinned on the ground in a headlock. He called his brother for help. The older one, Jayfon, came over and hit me with his elbow in my lower back. I apparently have a weak spot in my lower back and it hurt, a lot. I stood up quickly. I didn’t really comprehend what I was doing. I picked him up and dropped him on his side to the ground. The ground was carpeted but it was still hard stone underneath. He screamed. He cried and ran to my grandmother. She asked what happened. I told her I got hurt and lost control. I couldn’t stop myself.

I have been able to stop myself when I’m angry more often lately. While at this summer camp I’ve been volunteering over the summer, we would take the kids to parks. One day we took the 6 through 9 year olds to the same place. They decided that they wanted me to chase some of them. Little by little more and more joined. It got to the point where there was 20-40 of them versus my twin Nick and me. They realized this shortly after I did, so the tables turned. They began chasing us, when they caught me they held my arms. One little girl hit me in my lower back as hard as she could. This made me angry, but instead of getting really mad I just told her to stop hitting me.

It took multiple times of being told “think before you act” before it finally stuck. I still don’t have full control when I’m angry. Most of the time my brother, Josh, holds me back until I shake loose and walk away. I am more understanding when the person I’m angry at is much younger than me. I now understand that even lessons that we learn as young children, aren’t always easy to follow.

My element is Selenium. My element is used to make red glass that can be used for candleholders. It can also convert AC electricity to DC electricity. I thought of this print because of the candleholders. It seamed like a cool idea. I had to draw the print on a piece of paper. Then I traced the picture backwards onto tracing paper. Then I traced it from the tracing paper onto a linoleum block backwards again. Next I carved the positive space out and made prints of it. I then had to glue the prints onto black paper and take pictures. I think this was a fun project and it was easy. I would do this project the same and doing nothing differently.

I used rule of the thirds in my second slide. I decided to make the words big and have my picture bleed of the slide. I used a mask to make the edges less hard. The contrast of the black on the light blue word was great contrast.I made my face the main point of the slide.