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Category / English 9
The Friday Everything Changed
1. The boys are very upset that the girls may carry the water because they don’t want to give up their power. They are used to basing their size and strength on who carries the bucket, which was important to them because it meant they were tough and everyone would know it. It also provided them with the opportunity to leave the school for a while and do something “real”. It was something that was theirs and the girls being able to participate would take some of that away from them.
2. To try and convince the girls to give up their plan, the boys use agression and intimidation, locking them in an outhouse and keeping the girls from playing softball with them. They even convince Alma’s cousin to try convince Alma otherwise. This backfires and only results in causing the girls to become even more determined.
3. A girl is telling the story, a side character who simply watches the events come one after the next. She was Alma Niles seat mate, who was just surprised at the idea of carrying the water at first but she and the rest of them grew more and more sure with what they wanted as the story went on.
4. The setting is in a small school house in Rural Ontario,“Like driving a tractor or playing hockey for the Toronto Maple Leafs.” It it close to the railway where they retrieve the water, “the water for our school came from a pump near the railway station.” By being in a small town, the students are less used to change, this is why the possibility of change results in such an uproar. The conflict between the girls and the boys is person vs. person because they are going against each other in a sort of war between the genders. The conflict between Alma(the girls) and the idea that girls should not carry the water and stray from tradition is person vs. Society because it is Alma against everyone and the simple thought that her idea is wrong.
5. Alma Niles is the Protagonist because she is the one going against everyone’s opinions. She is the one standing up for what she believes.
Alma goes through a change from the beginning when she was unsure of herself to becoming more confident and forcing change on the school and everyone in it.
6. The change that comes on Friday is that the girls are finally considered more equal to the boys and just as capable. For the girls it is a great victory because it is as though they get to prove themselves. When Miss Ralston hits the ball out of the park it teaches the boys a lesson about underestimating someone just because of their gender (Gender Equality). Her decision to allow the girls to carry the water is important for everyone, especially for the boys to understand that they truly aren’t much better than everyone else.
“Let Her Go” – Passenger
Snowfall
The snow falls soft and white when skies are grey
Each flake dances towards the ground in grace
Ballerinas come in heaps, wish to play
They tumble to the ground without a trace
Beautiful to see, far too cold to touch
Staining the ground with their icy designs
You can try, but you can’t escape their clutch
Glimmer and gleam, bright, each snowflake shines
Once admired, now strikes fear in many hearts
The icy soldiers built for war begin to march
The earth is quickly struck with frosty darts
Sprinkles no longer leave that hand so harsh
Sadly, ballerinas with ice cold hearts can’t stay
Those tiny dancers have been led astray
My Weekend Poetry
My weekend paragraph
My name is Ava Pribanic, and this weekend was nothing out of the ordinary. I spent most of each night wide awake, reading or scrolling through the many social medias in existence. I woke up late in the mornings, spending the rest of my day completing unfinished homework and eating the last of the food in the house. (Mom will have to go grocery shopping.) Netflix was constantly in front of me and for hours I would be lost in the imaginary world I watched so closely. I did leave the house, however, spending a few hours downtown Saturday to watch the women’s soccer game. The rest of my team was there as well, and after the successful match for Canada, I hopped in the car and drove back to my home, where I could continue being lazy.
My weekend poem
A busy bee is a bee who is speedy with their tasks,
But what do you call a bee who is not exactly fast?
A bee who likes to sit around with nobody there,
A bee who unlike everyone doesn’t really care.
This bee, who I can relate, takes every chance they get
To lay around all day without working up a sweat.
This bee who is the opposite of busy, a lazy one at that
Would rather stay at home, as sleepy as a cat.
We might all have some lazy bee buried deep inside
And a weekend is the perfect chance for it not have to hide.
We kick up our feet and enjoy doing a lot of nothing, Something,
A whole bunch of this and that
A busy bee, who, for once has nothing to work at.
Get to know me
My dog, Eevee:
Everyday when I come home I can always count on one thing to cheer me up… my dog. The first thing I hear when I open the door is always claws scraping against the wooden floor of my home. The small black pup will come bounding around the corner, a blur as she takes two stairs down at a time. Her tail wags ferociously, propelled by her excitement for my return and her rusty dog tag bounces freely around her neck. Her heart-warming greeting always bring a smile to my face and any negativity from the morning seems to fade away. I bend down and slide my hand across her sleek black fur, admiring her huge mouse-like ears. They’re tucked down as the hyper pup continues to speed around, dodging furniture and anything else that enters her path. I pick up her favourite toy, a stuffed turtle, which is covered in mud and grass stains and leaks stuffing every time it moves. Soon the smell of dog breath is too much for me and I chuck it across the room, watching her tumble across the floor in an effort to retrieve it. She drops it at my feet and I watch as she pants, her focused brown eyes never leaving the dirty ball of fabric, challenging me to throw it once more. Her playful puppy ways never fail to entertain me and I pin my hair up, ready for the next round of our game.
Soccer:
The referee blows the whistle, and for a moment I’m too stunned to move, the high pitch sound ringing in my ear. I shake it off and bolt down the field to catch up. I can feel the stress lifting off my shoulders as I begin to run and I pick up the pace, trying to escape my problems. The wind rushes past me, blocking out the noise of other’s opinions, and in this moment, nothing matters. I don’t need to worry about the homework, girl cliques or drama. Rain starts pouring down, the fresh smell filling my lungs. The field around me is blurred and my legs are covered with goosebumps. I have never been so miserable, yet at the same time, so relaxed. I block out the cold, refusing to let it slow me down. I don’t care if we win. These 90 minutes are the best part of my week and I refuse to let them slip away. Everything going on outside the field doesn’t matter and that is why this game is so important to me.
Reading:
Sitting at the edge of my bed, I scan through the pages. I sneeze from the dust I’ve been breathing in, yet it does not slow me down. Flipping them over one by one, I take in every word on the page. The faint cries and shrieks coming from my younger brothers are seeping through the slight crack in my door, so I kick it shut. There is absolutely no tolerance for distractions. As the ending nears, I can feel the anticipation filling my chest. I had predicted the murderer from the very first page and as every piece of paper is turned, I grow more and more confident in my choice. Finally, the last words of the book slip off my tongue, but this is a taste I am not so familiar with. It is the taste of being wrong. My eyes grow wide and I throw my hands in the air in shock. I bounce around the room, unable to process the information I had just received. Finally, I collapse onto my bead, exhausted from my excited response. This is nothing unusual, and every time I open a new book, the urge for an unsuspected ending grows stronger.
