June 18th 1815
My name is Emilia McFarland. I am sixteen years old and live in a little community away from Edinburgh. My family and I were farmers so that makes us not so great in the haver social class. This is my first entry if you don’t already know. My mother used to keep many of these journals growing up. She always loved writing what her mind thinks. I usually just say it out loud. But now I can’t be that loud mouthed dunt anymore. Father died from cholera 2 weeks ago. Mother is gonna be gone soon. That leaves me and my little brother Fergus. He’s only a wee lad at 6 years old. Having his parents die at that age is a horrible sight. I have to step up. Beginning with a new start. A new beginning for the both of us. A new life in a place known as British North America. My friends and aye have been talking about what life would be like out there. No social class system. Complete freedom. I just wished this didn’t have to happen in the condition that my life has unfolded into. Fergus and I left this morning at the crack of dawn. Mother wasn’t awake and that’s how I wanted to keep things. I couldn’t bring myself to say goodbye. It’s something I probably will regret but this was the decision I made and I will stick with yit. We lived a little ways from the water. It took Fergus and I a little over 3 hours of walking to get to the pick up place. It was a surprising sight when I noticed how many people were traveling with us. I always kept Fergus close. He was a wonderer. A curious little lad. The boat was large. It smelled from miles away but I couldn’t help my excitement about going to the place I’ve dreamed of going to one day. The first class snobs got on first. Them and their high noses and big poofy dresses. It’s as if they wanted us to make fun of them. After the huge population of ugly souled upper class figures had loaded onto the boat the middle class and the lower class were able to aboard. Fergus and I held hands as we walked up the smaller ramp into the steerage.
July 6th 1815
Dear whomever is reading this. It has been 18 days since Fergus and I had bordered the ship to freedom. That’s what everyone is calling it down here. Down where the poor are put. The awful smelling and drastically compacted steerage. I mean I live on a farm that smells like Fergus does after eating corn. But nothing can beat this smell. The water tasted bad too. It was also a brown color so I avoided drinking it if I could. The food was minimal. We got whatever the upper class didn’t eat. So there usually wasn’t a lot of food. Not everything was bad down here though. Fergus had met a few boys he plays with. It had lightened the lad up. He missed mother and father. I missed them too. A lot actually. At the beginning of this whole trip I used to silently cry myself to sleep. That was until I met Finley. A boy who lived only two towns away from my own. He was coming to Canada with his parents. Farmers trying to find a new and better life. Finley and I became close. He was easy to talk to. I had stayed quiet every night when everyone down in the lower class shared their life story because it was to painful to tell anyone. But I told Finley. Fergus loved him too. Finley had taught Fergus card games and told him bed time stories. I found out he liked me through those stories. Finn and Emmy were the main characters of his stories. Those were our nicknames for each other. Tonight however he asked Fergus and I a big question. Something I hadn’t thought about. Where to go after docking into Canada? I was so focused on getting away that it never occurred to me that I had no place to go after all of this. Finley and his parents asked us if we were willing, to live with them. To help farm and begin a new life together. I hadn’t made the decision yet. But I truly want to. But I don’t know. I really don’t know.
September 2nd 1815
It has been over a month since the freedom of my life had begun. A lot has happened since my last entry. Starting with my home. Finley’s offer to live with them wasn’t taken. Yes I would love to have gone with them but a new life would mean everything and everyone except for Fergus was supposed to vanish. Finley was a little bit apart of that old life. Our new journey began as we docked. That’s how I kept it. I saw him around though. There farm was close to ours. Maybe a 2 hour walk. Life was different here. There was no social class system. Meaning those spoiled rotten upper class people were even in society with us. The community of homes, stores, schools and churches is wonderful. Every single person in my community came and helped build Fergus and I a home. It is small but perfect. Fergus went to school for the first time ever. He loves it. Food is great. Everything is just fresher here in upper Canada. I am truly grateful and happy for this new beginning I get to explore. Life has never felt so lovely. This will be my last entry. I wanted it to be a memory of my journey. That ain’t the thought in the beginning but that’s what I am gonna do. Hopefully in the future when I am old and frail my son or daughter will read this and Remember that life with have many bumps in the road but there will be that one flat road that’ll show the path. It doesn’t make sense now but it will. Thank you.
I found that in this project the most successful part of it all was the creating of my character. I had a 2 page background bio on my character that I had written up as well as an image in my head on how she looks and her way of being emilia. I loved having her enter into the journal because it was a character I created. the one thing I’d change about this project is the way I build the journal. I took so much time in writing the story that I didn’t plan so much in the making of the journal. I actually learned more about the journey throughout the writing because I had to have a strong image of where and how my character felt to make it feel as real as possible.
By: Grace McLeod
Blk: D Science 10
Group: Jenna, Taylor, Manroop and Grace (ME)
Problem: make a boat that can hold the most amount of pennies.
This is our boat. My group and I had the winning boat. We beat both our classes record and the A blocks class record with 169 pennies.
Our idea for the boat was to create a larger surface area so that it could hold more pennies. The group and I folded over the sides to make sure water didn’t come pouring in . we also put the marshmallows on the bottom to make the boat float. The last bit of marshmallow that we had was put in the corners so the boat didn’t leak or create holes. The label also contributed in taping up the holes.
The one thing I’d change about the boat is to fold the sides over twice. The boat was able to fit a lot of pennies but if the boats sides were folded over once more I think it would have not collapsed in on its sides by the water
I used to be a person not sure of my identity.
Being singled out was the direction my life was in.
Like sheep I began to follow the crowd, But I was never proud.
My light was beginning to fade and darkness was beginning to circle my heart,
But two angels came down and led me down a different path.
I felt warm and cared for in these Angels arms, As if I couldn’t be hurt anymore.
I felt as if I were a flower in spring, Blooming high and beautiful.
My world looked like Olympus.
Only if it weren’t just an illusion.
Slowly I began to realize I had gone deeper into the darkness,
Those Angels weren’t who they appeared as.
Long nails, ugly faces and sharp teeth showed through the magic dust that masked my vision of their true identity.
I looked at Myself in a mirror and saw the same horrid figure.
I was a nightmare dressed like a daydream.
Running was the only thing I could find myself to do,
Away from the monster I had become and towards the light once again.
A wall stood in my way,
I could hear the birds and the soft laughter out beyond this wall.
Nothing could get me back there,
I had lost that privilege when I lost myself,
Closing my eyes I took a breath.
I am not a monster, I am not royalty and I am not the darkness.
I am a girl who hasn’t found her true identity yet but I won’t ride someone else’s because that’s not who I am.
I am the person I want to be and the person I was meant to be.
~ the person i used to be is a poem written by Grace McLeod. Grace used her heart and memory of her past events in her writing. the main theme of this poem is identity. She used to be be bullied and that is shown in the first stanza. McLeod directly shows the problem and then uses sheep as a metaphor as being a follower. The next stanza brings up the angels. The angels are a metaphor for a saving grace. i am thinking two people she befriended who were similar to the people who bullied her. the angels were also an allusion from the bible. the light and darkness is another allusion to the bible. one more allusion is mentioned later on where McLeod refers to Olympus which is a biblical allusion. Grace then shows a shift in things. the “two angels” she befriended have changed to something horrible. the poet says she finds herself looking in the mirror and finding the same awful features in her own self. Grace says running is the only thing she can do but she was stopped in front of a wall. the wall was another metaphor for herself. she had subconsciously put that wall there when she chose the miss guided path that had been splayed out for her. she new she had ruined going back to the person she was. Grace had to create her new self. A grown up version of the old self but a stronger one. someone she was meant to be. the inquiry question that i felt fit this poem the best was number 17: how do we distinguish right from wrong? this question i thought was answered through this poem and at the same time it wasn’t. this will sound confusing at the beginning. it depends in what the situation is. if it has to do with something that isn’t a weakness of someones or a personal problem then it is easier to decide whether or not it’s wrong or right. if it is personal then it might not seem clear if it’s wrong or right until the last minute. until it can be to late and the damage has already been created. ~