Mrs. Ho's AP Lit - 2021/2022

     I once tried to write poetry not too long ago. It wasn’t good needless to say. It was about the burnout I experienced while doing schoolwork. It was supposed to help distract me but it only made the burnout worse. The whole process of writing was a pain and a half. I had to constantly read it to myself to make sure it flowed properly, and when it didn’t there was always a word or two I could that would fit perfectly, but I could never find them. The whole of the poem was relatively short a with very little detail. But the ending was my favorite part. The very last line was “No motivation to continue writing,” and it ended there. I found it kind of funny. But either way, I don’t think I’ll be doing it again any time soon. It just doesn’t do much for me and it offers more stress than I thought it would. But I will say though it did give me a newfound respect for poets. It takes skill to write poetry well.  (If you managed to read this far along, congrats. You get to see my subpar an

Who here can say they have some sort of comfort object? I’ve found that there is sort of a stigma around these objects even though a study showed that  35% of people in the British Isles say that they sleep with a comfort teddy bear. But I have a question: Why do we have comfort objects? Child psychology offers an explanation. Not to keep it too long winded, but it states that the child uses it as a transitional device. Which is essentially a device that helps keep a child grounded as they slowly transition away from dependency on the mother. (Should you want any more information on that, I'm not the person to talk to) And this makes sense. Of course, a child would need to have something to help go through that process. But, with that being said, what about nonphysical comfort things? What about things like songs? On that, I’m slightly more qualified to talk about. I have a few songs that offer comfort. One of those is Zombie Pop by DPR Ian. This song was shown to me by a friend an

     How strange it is to see people fighting over such menial things. The way that people will find things that affect nothing and no one, and take that and argue. Witnessed an argument over whether firearms should be legal in the States. The opponent took the stance that it’s specified in the second amendment that we as a people have the right to keep and bear arms. (Mind you these are only thoughts, and these thoughts are affecting no one.) The other had taken the stance that if you have a firearm you are a criminal who will or already has murdered someone. (I will not be giving any sort of opinion as I'm more than sure it would lead to chaos.) And all through this encounter, all I could think was “What does this matter?” These two people were both strangers who by all accounts could have been friends, but when a singular topic arose they were at each other's throats calling each other “idiot” or “half witted” among other things. It's a shame. We all focus on each other&

  I don’t often find myself being an emotional person. It’s just who I am. But recently I found myself going down a rabbit hole that almost brought a tear to my eye. I was reading an article about the Christmas Truce of 1914. What happened was, on the evening of December 24th, 1914, German forces on the western front began putting up candles and trees on the trench parapet. The two armies then began singing carols. They originally began to sing in competition with one another, but their songs eventually came together in the carol Silent Night. Soon thereafter, officers began to leave the trenches to discuss the possibility of a truce. After an agreement was struck, soldiers began to walk into no man’s land to gather and bury their dead and rest. Christmas Eve services were held on both sides, and soldiers would often attend the other’s services. On Christmas day there are reports of gifts such as chocolate, beer, cigarettes, and even clothes being given. As well there were soldiers eat

     I’m sure many of you have already seen and made up your minds about the trial of one Kyle Rittenhouse. But we’re not here to talk about his potential guilt or innocence. But what we hopefully all can agree on, is that this trial is an absolute mess.      The first thing that I find somewhat hilarious is the incompetence on all sides. Within the first 15 minutes of the trial, the prosecutor attempted to use Kyle’s silence as a talking point for his guilt. But herein lies a problem. Our 5th amendment right grants us the ability to stay silent, so the prosecutor trying to use that as a talking point for Kyle’s guilt was seen as an infringement on his 5th amendment right. Another very infamous part of the trial was when testimony was given by Gaige Grosskreutz. When asked whether or not Rittenhouse was acting in self-defense, he was asked whether or not he chased Rittenhouse down with a pistol. Grosskreutz had said no. When prompted with video evidence he maintained his point, saying

  In his poem “On The Amtrak From Boston To New York City” Sherman Alexie describes his interactions with an older white lady sitting across from him while on the Amtrak from Boston to New York, and how the comments that the lady was making about the local landscape were extremely emotionally and internally conflicting for Alexie, who is a Native American. Shortly into their trip, the lady points out to Alexie a “house on the hill [that] is over two hundred years old,” but all Alexie can think about is how his culture and ancestors were inhabiting those lands “15,000 years… before” anyone else was there. This introduces the main theme of the rest of the poem, which is the obliviousness to the very racism and misrepresentation of Native Americans by white people in America. When the lady then asks if Alexie visited Walden Pond, he refrains from sarcastically responding about the “five Walden Ponds on [his] reservation out west,” and the other “hundreds surrounding Spokane,” because he u

  For those of you in our class who don’t know, soccer is one of my favorite sports. Coming from Chile, soccer is a major part of many young South American boys' upbringing, and it was no different for me, so when I moved here to the States I picked up right where I left off, and it’s only been up from there. This year, I am the captain of our Eagles varsity soccer team, a title that I feel I’ve worked extremely hard towards and one that I’ve earned, not received. Ever since joining the team my Freshman year, we’ve made the playoffs every season, and I don’t expect that streak to end under my captaincy. This year, we have a young yet hungry team, a team that’s going out onto the field and giving their all until the last minute. We have six starters that are underclassmen, which at first glance would seem like a disadvantage, but I’ll be the first to say that there’s not another group of guys that young in our soccer district that will put their blood and sweat into every play, and

  I have a brand new baby cousin! Well, technically we’re not really cousins. I’m more of his uncle since he is the son of my first cousin, but I don’t even care about the technicalities right now! His name is Ilan, and he is the newborn son of my first cousin Gal, who lives in Long Island with her husband Nicolas. Even though Ilan is only a few days old, I have no shortage of pictures and videos of him on my phone, as our family group chat has been buzzing with pictures and videos from my cousins and Aunt and Uncle (the new grandparents) of little Ilan. He is so cute, and - weirdly - almost photogenic. I know that sounds weird, but somehow he is managing to crack a smile - or something close to it - in every one of his pictures, and it’s the cutest thing in the world. One of the best parts of Ilan being born is that it adds a whole new chapter and generation to my mother’s side of the family. For one, and maybe most importantly, my grandparents are now great-grandparents! Seeing them

  Wow! The week of October 24-31 might have been the most excruciating seven days of my young life! As most of you in our class know, many college applications were due on November 1st, typically the “early action” application. For me, since I didn’t apply to any private or Ivy League schools (they usually have their deadlines around December-January) all my applications were due by November 1st. This meant that even though I had been working hard on apps and getting my stuff done, I needed to really grind out the last week, meaning finalize supplemental essays, putting finishing touches on my resume and essay, and filling out all the individual questions for each university on the Common App. The weekend of October 29-31 I stayed home almost entirely, spending countless hours in front of the computer every day writing essays, and on that Saturday night, I finalized all my applications, officially submitting them through Common App. As I can imagine many of you can relate, the relief I

  In his poem “Evolution”, Sherman Alexie symbolically expresses the continued exploitation of Native Americans in American society through the use of the famous Wild West character Buffalo Bill and a pawn shop on the reservation, ultimately demonstrating how Native Americans have been stripped of many of their rights and belongings. Alexie immediately begins by telling the reader about “Buffalo Bill’s… [new] pawn shop on the reservation,” which is significant because Buffalo Bill was a famous actor and notorious personality in the late 1800s who glorified the battle between Wild Westerners and American Indians, and offensively misrepresented Indigenous traditions and practices in his widely-known roadshow, “Buffalo Bill’s Wild West”. Alexie wastes no time in describing how fast the “Indians came running in with jewelry [and] television sets” and all other sorts of valuables. Buffalo Bill accepts all that “the Indians have to offer” and stores everything in a “cataloged storage room,”

  On Monday we played our final flag football game of the season, losing in the district semi-finals to Hebrew Academy from East Boca. It was bittersweet, to say the least, leaving the team after such a successful year, yet with so much left on the table. Our team was like none other I’ve been on ever since I started playing flag my freshman year. We had a new coach, for one. His name is Coach Ortiz, and we appreciate him as much as he appreciates us. He brought a new culture, a new identity to the Eagles, and as players, there’s nothing more important than that.  We had an extremely successful year, going 5-1-1 and eliminating our rivals Yeshiva from playoff contention along the way. Our massively successful offense was led mainly by seniors, with Truce at quarterback, Dovie at running back, me at tight end, and Sammy and Aviel at wide receiver. We ended up being top 5 in the league in points scored, and while we didn’t conclude the season with the result that we wanted, it was far fr

     In his poem “Dangerous Astronomy”, Sherman Alexie describes his new life with a baby son and the magnitude of his importance in his wife and son’s life and uses the stars in the sky to symbolize his feelings. As the poem progresses, Alexie begins to have a sort of epiphany that he is not as important in his son’s life as his wife is, and that makes him extremely anguished. He also begins to believe that he may not even be as important anymore in his wife’s life either.      The title of this poem is extremely meaningful, as stars play a vital role in this poem. For one, Alexie uses repetition with the word “stars”, as it is said seven times in the poem’s six stanzas. Stars are very important in this poem, as Alexie begins by describing his desire to “walk outside and praise the stars,” but his baby son David’s health is more important, as he has been coughing. Even after “comforting and kissing” David, the narrator cannot get him to calm down or feel better. Ultimately, the narrat