At Its Worst
By Isaac
The jeans shop is warm.
Sometimes, not worth it. But dropping the denim
To spend the remaining daylight hours dancing with my companions
This is where I’m from.
Then again, I am from that one dark, moonless night,
when someone, and no one took me and taught me how to slaughter.
Standing in line with others
To kill
my race, my age,
my religion,
even my home town was shared by many
we were not worth our money: free.
We were the walking dead.
Still I have nightmares about it
about his face.
“Please brother, I am from peace.” He said
Still, knowing the consequences of not doing so,
I pulled the trigger at point blank range
His face exploded in color
Yet…
Somehow, his expression was blank
The words fresh on his lips
Echoed through the shadowed canyon
Of my once clear conscience
“Please brother, I am from peace”
This is where I’m from
That was past, this is present
I flee.
I flee when the moon shines brighter
and the stars shine brightest
“lets split”
I am at a refugee camp living with others
But still, alone.
Like the loneliness is a disease
Spreading,
it would sweep the nation,
The globe!
If not for the prison walls of this refugee camp
I too, brother am from peace.
Monday, January 26, 2009
PBS NOW: Paradise Lost
This video was shown in class today. It supports student materials on their current persuasive writing topic.
Paradise Lost
The video shown last week was: God and Global Warming
Paradise Lost
The video shown last week was: God and Global Warming
Sunday, January 25, 2009
I am from hitchhiking across the border
I was taken to hospital #36 after injured
A piece of shrapnel stuck out of my leg like a unicorns horn
I am from two dozen or so casualties in the market attack
And the smell of blood in the air
I am from relatives dieing during the transfer to hospitals
I am from no more drugs to help the wounded
Only what people could spare from their medicine cabinets
I sent his family to Ingushetia to stay with a cousin
Because there was nothing left but chaos and bodies
Because they would they would die
I have transferred 3 families in the back of my truck
I am form heavy artillery and solders in the sounding hills
I have to pay over 1000 dollars for my family and me to cross the border
My name is Akaev I am from Georgia and I am 47 years old and I am a refugee
By lee
I was taken to hospital #36 after injured
A piece of shrapnel stuck out of my leg like a unicorns horn
I am from two dozen or so casualties in the market attack
And the smell of blood in the air
I am from relatives dieing during the transfer to hospitals
I am from no more drugs to help the wounded
Only what people could spare from their medicine cabinets
I sent his family to Ingushetia to stay with a cousin
Because there was nothing left but chaos and bodies
Because they would they would die
I have transferred 3 families in the back of my truck
I am form heavy artillery and solders in the sounding hills
I have to pay over 1000 dollars for my family and me to cross the border
My name is Akaev I am from Georgia and I am 47 years old and I am a refugee
By lee
REFUGEE POEM - By: Madeleine
I come from a place called Kyrgyzstan.
Kyrgyzstan is located in China and is near Russia.
I was arrested
Put in jail in Kyrgyzstan,
Because of political reason.
I come from a place where I was a musician.
I was a professional
Playing in the orchestra as a refugee I couldn’t get a job.
I come from a place I had to leave.
I had to leave my hometown;
I had never lived anywhere else
So it was like a dark room I had never entered before.
I came to a place called London.
I came to a place so magical
That it made my old hometown look like an unpolished pot.
But this place looked polished and brand new
I had a new life and I was excited.
I came to a place where I was called a refugee.
I didn’t know what the word me so when I was called “refugee”
It scared me,
I didn’t what to think.
I came to a place where people spoke English
I never knew what anyone was saying
Because did not speak their language. I started going to school to learn English.
Then I started understanding what people were saying
and English came to me like it was my own language.
I came to a place I was not accepted.
I came to a place that I now fit into.
I now live in a place where I belong.
Kyrgyzstan is located in China and is near Russia.
I was arrested
Put in jail in Kyrgyzstan,
Because of political reason.
I come from a place where I was a musician.
I was a professional
Playing in the orchestra as a refugee I couldn’t get a job.
I come from a place I had to leave.
I had to leave my hometown;
I had never lived anywhere else
So it was like a dark room I had never entered before.
I came to a place called London.
I came to a place so magical
That it made my old hometown look like an unpolished pot.
But this place looked polished and brand new
I had a new life and I was excited.
I came to a place where I was called a refugee.
I didn’t know what the word me so when I was called “refugee”
It scared me,
I didn’t what to think.
I came to a place where people spoke English
I never knew what anyone was saying
Because did not speak their language. I started going to school to learn English.
Then I started understanding what people were saying
and English came to me like it was my own language.
I came to a place I was not accepted.
I came to a place that I now fit into.
I now live in a place where I belong.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Lily-pad: Global climate change refugees
Here's a really cool idea about a safe place for future refugees who are escaping global climate change. Click here to see it.
I am from a Chance-Zsuzsa
I Am From a Chance-Zsuzsa
By Sasha
I am from a clamor of voices,
So many different nationalities
Multi-ethnic Yugoslavia,
Its rolling green hills,pastures of livestock,
When the Serbs, the Hungarians
Resided together in peace
Not caring about their differences
I am from growing up
Causing the realization
That nationalities did make a difference
Hit me like a bullet
I am from interacting with new people, times and places,
Especially my husband
And my proud college graduation,
My children, and the horror
Of war
I'm from traveling to Croatia
Where in the picturesque
Yet deceiving landscape
A war broke out
And we were unable to return to our country
I am from friends
Who helped us in our
Eventual return to Hungary
And the beautiful
But somehow inconceivable
Thought of life returning
To how it used to be
I am from the shock of Quarantine
The odor of sweat and decay
Of too many bodies
In too small a space
The sound of the harsh voices
Piercing us like knives
The feel of cold icy bunks
Digging into our skin.
I am from our release into Hungary
The feeling of finally escaping
Dimmed by the abominable and unavoidable
Life in the Refugee Camp
Where my children did not speak
Of their nationality
If they could help it
I am from the hope
Induced by the offer of a job
Educating and bonding
Children of all different nationalities and ages
Giving them the strength they needed so desperately
I am from the pride
Of being able to repair
The wrongs of the people before me
As if slowly stitching together
The remnants of the hearts
That were crudely torn apart
By the cruelty of Quarantine
I am from the delight and honor
Of the ability to
Save a boy from a horrible fate
And sparing his education
As it slowly dissolved into nothingness
I am from being given a chance
And helping others from
Leaving their futures
Lying in the dust
By Sasha
I am from a clamor of voices,
So many different nationalities
Multi-ethnic Yugoslavia,
Its rolling green hills,pastures of livestock,
When the Serbs, the Hungarians
Resided together in peace
Not caring about their differences
I am from growing up
Causing the realization
That nationalities did make a difference
Hit me like a bullet
I am from interacting with new people, times and places,
Especially my husband
And my proud college graduation,
My children, and the horror
Of war
I'm from traveling to Croatia
Where in the picturesque
Yet deceiving landscape
A war broke out
And we were unable to return to our country
I am from friends
Who helped us in our
Eventual return to Hungary
And the beautiful
But somehow inconceivable
Thought of life returning
To how it used to be
I am from the shock of Quarantine
The odor of sweat and decay
Of too many bodies
In too small a space
The sound of the harsh voices
Piercing us like knives
The feel of cold icy bunks
Digging into our skin.
I am from our release into Hungary
The feeling of finally escaping
Dimmed by the abominable and unavoidable
Life in the Refugee Camp
Where my children did not speak
Of their nationality
If they could help it
I am from the hope
Induced by the offer of a job
Educating and bonding
Children of all different nationalities and ages
Giving them the strength they needed so desperately
I am from the pride
Of being able to repair
The wrongs of the people before me
As if slowly stitching together
The remnants of the hearts
That were crudely torn apart
By the cruelty of Quarantine
I am from the delight and honor
Of the ability to
Save a boy from a horrible fate
And sparing his education
As it slowly dissolved into nothingness
I am from being given a chance
And helping others from
Leaving their futures
Lying in the dust
Where I'm From Poem: Assumani
Where I’m From: Assumani
By Sophia
I am from a large family, the youngest of seven.
I am from South Kivu Province. From the mountains and the all-too-familiar forests that encircle the lake I once swam in.
I am from my father’s death and the gun shots on my country’s soil, which forced me to leave.
I am from arriving home to a locked empty house that my family had fled from, leaving me in a sea of people, pushing and shoving; trying to escape.
From feeling truly abandoned, and alone.
From spending hours calling to my family, even though deep down, I knew they were already gone.
I am from having to leave my home wondering, did I abandon my country? Or did it abandon me?
I am from running for nine months, fleeing through six different countries, none of them feeling like home.
From unfamiliar places and people.
Now I am from a foster family, and a new home.
From nice people, and peace.
From finally being able to stop running, but I do worry that someday my fears will catch up to me.
For now I, Assumani, am from South Africa.
By Sophia
I am from a large family, the youngest of seven.
I am from South Kivu Province. From the mountains and the all-too-familiar forests that encircle the lake I once swam in.
I am from my father’s death and the gun shots on my country’s soil, which forced me to leave.
I am from arriving home to a locked empty house that my family had fled from, leaving me in a sea of people, pushing and shoving; trying to escape.
From feeling truly abandoned, and alone.
From spending hours calling to my family, even though deep down, I knew they were already gone.
I am from having to leave my home wondering, did I abandon my country? Or did it abandon me?
I am from running for nine months, fleeing through six different countries, none of them feeling like home.
From unfamiliar places and people.
Now I am from a foster family, and a new home.
From nice people, and peace.
From finally being able to stop running, but I do worry that someday my fears will catch up to me.
For now I, Assumani, am from South Africa.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Zsuzsa by Emma
I am from white stone work
Dusty roads
The scent of bougainvilleas wound around the trellis in the courtyard
I am from seeing the cobblestone vanish beneath me
From watching a baby bird take flight
and from seeing my freedom
I see the way of my life
A giant web intercepted by others
My family my friends
I am from the savory aroma of stuffed peppers
The smell of my pencil shavings
I sit cramped in my small school desk
I’m from the feeling of strength the earth emanates
From dancing fires
and
Laughing children
I am from my hopes to become a school teacher
From watching the proud eyes of my family
When I reached that goal
I’m from watching my husband rush to Hungry
From escaping the war
and hearing many languages spat from neighbor neighbors
I will never be from the frightful journey to the camp, my family by my side
Or the iron bed of quarantine
Being treated like I was something nasty to wipe off a shoe
Or the taste of food that’s not like home
Never will I savor the house made from canvas
The clingy crowded stench of sweat and fear
From seeing my freedom from beyond my reach, like a caged bird, longing to be let loose
I will bind up my thoughts and release them into the wind, the world must engulf
I will shackle the sights and let them flow into the waters
I will imprison the sounds and burn them to ashes
3 years went by,
Our only hope is Australia
As our dreams falter we settle in Hungary
At night we still watch for the sunrise of returning home
I will always be from my mothers good cooking
My child’s small laugh
and the nights of telling stories by the fire
Dusty roads
The scent of bougainvilleas wound around the trellis in the courtyard
I am from seeing the cobblestone vanish beneath me
From watching a baby bird take flight
and from seeing my freedom
I see the way of my life
A giant web intercepted by others
My family my friends
I am from the savory aroma of stuffed peppers
The smell of my pencil shavings
I sit cramped in my small school desk
I’m from the feeling of strength the earth emanates
From dancing fires
and
Laughing children
I am from my hopes to become a school teacher
From watching the proud eyes of my family
When I reached that goal
I’m from watching my husband rush to Hungry
From escaping the war
and hearing many languages spat from neighbor neighbors
I will never be from the frightful journey to the camp, my family by my side
Or the iron bed of quarantine
Being treated like I was something nasty to wipe off a shoe
Or the taste of food that’s not like home
Never will I savor the house made from canvas
The clingy crowded stench of sweat and fear
From seeing my freedom from beyond my reach, like a caged bird, longing to be let loose
I will bind up my thoughts and release them into the wind, the world must engulf
I will shackle the sights and let them flow into the waters
I will imprison the sounds and burn them to ashes
3 years went by,
Our only hope is Australia
As our dreams falter we settle in Hungary
At night we still watch for the sunrise of returning home
I will always be from my mothers good cooking
My child’s small laugh
and the nights of telling stories by the fire
Noah
1-15-09
King Dickson: Life of a Refugee
I am from getting half a bag of rice for two people
Oil and beef and beans monthly
From not having any supervision
At the refugee camp
I am from cutting down
Firewood to make money
From having been given a knife
To kill my father
From settling into a refugee camp
For six years
I am from escaping from Liberia
With complete strangers
From not trying to escape
Because if I did
The rebels would cut off my ears
From the rebels bursting into my house
And beating us
I am from going to Lola
To start high school
I went back to the camp
To finish high school
I am from hopes and dreams
Of becoming a doctor
And giving my country what it lacks
1-15-09
King Dickson: Life of a Refugee
I am from getting half a bag of rice for two people
Oil and beef and beans monthly
From not having any supervision
At the refugee camp
I am from cutting down
Firewood to make money
From having been given a knife
To kill my father
From settling into a refugee camp
For six years
I am from escaping from Liberia
With complete strangers
From not trying to escape
Because if I did
The rebels would cut off my ears
From the rebels bursting into my house
And beating us
I am from going to Lola
To start high school
I went back to the camp
To finish high school
I am from hopes and dreams
Of becoming a doctor
And giving my country what it lacks
Where I'm From: Cecilia
Where I'm From: Cecelia
by Francesca
I am from the sunny, flat plains of Sudan
feet hitting the ground and fists clenched
my parent's surreal death etched into my mind forever
terror and sadness propelling me forward, to Belgium
I am from one fateful night
the police raid shattering the silence as I slept
panic turning my blood cold as I was driven to the detention center
chained helplessly to my roommate as the stars shone through the clouds
I am from a crowded dark room
the presence of twenty others closing in on me
I am from the dread of going back to Sudan
sickening and constant, eating away at my health
I am from animal-like treatment, cruel and unforgiving
bending to fix my shoe earning me a harsh shove from the guard
my head slamming into the cold tile floor
anger tightening my throat and clouding my vision
I am from a court full of distrustful strangers
salty tears drowning out my words
living again in Belgium without papers
everything distorted by fear
“I just want to be somewhere and continue with my life
and to form another family because right now
I don't have anyone anymore.”
by Francesca
I am from the sunny, flat plains of Sudan
feet hitting the ground and fists clenched
my parent's surreal death etched into my mind forever
terror and sadness propelling me forward, to Belgium
I am from one fateful night
the police raid shattering the silence as I slept
panic turning my blood cold as I was driven to the detention center
chained helplessly to my roommate as the stars shone through the clouds
I am from a crowded dark room
the presence of twenty others closing in on me
I am from the dread of going back to Sudan
sickening and constant, eating away at my health
I am from animal-like treatment, cruel and unforgiving
bending to fix my shoe earning me a harsh shove from the guard
my head slamming into the cold tile floor
anger tightening my throat and clouding my vision
I am from a court full of distrustful strangers
salty tears drowning out my words
living again in Belgium without papers
everything distorted by fear
“I just want to be somewhere and continue with my life
and to form another family because right now
I don't have anyone anymore.”
Tree Planting this Saturday - great community project
For more info: www.friendsoftrees.org
Kerns, Laurelhurst & Sunnyside Planting (NT) - Portland
When Sat, January 24, 8:45am – 1:00pm
Where Sunnyside Methodist Church, 3520 SE Yamhill St, Portland OR (map)
Description
Neighbors will plant trees in their neighborhood. Click on "Order Street & Yard Trees" to set up an account to buy trees for your yard or parking strip. Once you set up an account, Friends of Trees will arrange for the city of Portland to inspect the planting site and issue a permit. For this planting, you must create your account by Nov 24 and order your trees by Jan 5. Questions?
Contact your Neighborhood Coordinator.
Laurelhurst: Lisa, 503-233-8235 or ladajian@msn.com.
Kerns: Cain, 503-282-8846 x 21 or caina@friendsoftrees.org
Sunnyside: Peter, 503-823-7507 or peternierengarten@hotmail.com.
Kerns, Laurelhurst & Sunnyside Planting (NT) - Portland
When Sat, January 24, 8:45am – 1:00pm
Where Sunnyside Methodist Church, 3520 SE Yamhill St, Portland OR (map)
Description
Neighbors will plant trees in their neighborhood. Click on "Order Street & Yard Trees" to set up an account to buy trees for your yard or parking strip. Once you set up an account, Friends of Trees will arrange for the city of Portland to inspect the planting site and issue a permit. For this planting, you must create your account by Nov 24 and order your trees by Jan 5. Questions?
Contact your Neighborhood Coordinator.
Laurelhurst: Lisa, 503-233-8235 or ladajian@msn.com.
Kerns: Cain, 503-282-8846 x 21 or caina@friendsoftrees.org
Sunnyside: Peter, 503-823-7507 or peternierengarten@hotmail.com.
Monday, January 19, 2009
I am from being a refugee
I am from the country I fled
Terrified of my governments punishment
I wish I could have stayed
I am from the smuggler that helped me flee
Not caring where I went, just needing to leave
Only to be detained on arrival
I am from the country that detained me
A supposed asylum from my troubles
I am from the medical treatment I needed
But was not provided with
I am from the isolated walls of the detention centre
That sealed us away from the world outside
I am from Italy
The country I was transferred to
Even when I couldn’t walk
That gave me real asylum
I am from the medical treatment I needed
That I was finally provided with
I am from the system that helped me
Even if it is not perfect
I am from the language I needed to learn
Even though many classes would not let me in
I am from my experience as a whole
Even though it was a painful one
I am from being a refugee
Even though a terrible experience
It made me stronger too
By Jeffrey
Terrified of my governments punishment
I wish I could have stayed
I am from the smuggler that helped me flee
Not caring where I went, just needing to leave
Only to be detained on arrival
I am from the country that detained me
A supposed asylum from my troubles
I am from the medical treatment I needed
But was not provided with
I am from the isolated walls of the detention centre
That sealed us away from the world outside
I am from Italy
The country I was transferred to
Even when I couldn’t walk
That gave me real asylum
I am from the medical treatment I needed
That I was finally provided with
I am from the system that helped me
Even if it is not perfect
I am from the language I needed to learn
Even though many classes would not let me in
I am from my experience as a whole
Even though it was a painful one
I am from being a refugee
Even though a terrible experience
It made me stronger too
By Jeffrey
Friday, January 16, 2009
I AM DEATH
I am from dancing
Dancing on the beach
Dancing on Ramadan
To the crashing of the waves
And I am from death, death and dancing
I am from running
At gun point
To new life
Of death
And fear
And I am from death, death and dancing
I am from kill or be killed
From where they say death is better than life
And it is no lie
And I am from death, death and dancing
I am from holding gun to helpless head
A trigger pulled
A life forever vanished
A million possibilities
Gone
I am death, death and dancing
I am from that day
Hid in a bush
Truly an important day
All my hopes
And dreams
At the gallows
But I escaped
I am free!
I am death, death and dancing
I am from those thieving border guards
And bribes
And the Hell in that Hell they call “prison”
The demons in this Hell
They wear uniform
And carry whip in devilish hand
I am death, death and dancing
I am from Jimmi Bagbo
And escape
And lost parents
And war
I am death
I am refugee
Miles
I am from dancing
Dancing on the beach
Dancing on Ramadan
To the crashing of the waves
And I am from death, death and dancing
I am from running
At gun point
To new life
Of death
And fear
And I am from death, death and dancing
I am from kill or be killed
From where they say death is better than life
And it is no lie
And I am from death, death and dancing
I am from holding gun to helpless head
A trigger pulled
A life forever vanished
A million possibilities
Gone
I am death, death and dancing
I am from that day
Hid in a bush
Truly an important day
All my hopes
And dreams
At the gallows
But I escaped
I am free!
I am death, death and dancing
I am from those thieving border guards
And bribes
And the Hell in that Hell they call “prison”
The demons in this Hell
They wear uniform
And carry whip in devilish hand
I am death, death and dancing
I am from Jimmi Bagbo
And escape
And lost parents
And war
I am death
I am refugee
Miles
I am from Liberia
I am from Liberia
I had to run away though
With my aunt and cousins we all ran
I am from my feet being sore
And not eating for days
I am from running across the border
to Sierra Leone
I am exhausted
I am from people being kind to people threatening us
I am from sleeping in a mud hut all together
I am from a refugee camp
Where slept on the ground
I am from people getting sick
to dying
Mainly from water problems
I am from going to school there
To arranged concerts
To soccer games
And a church
I am from making friends
I am from war starting in Sierra Leone
I am from busses picking people up
I am from the busses being so full we couldn’t fit
It was like a zoo
Crazy
I am from getting split up from my aunt and younger cousins
We didn’t know where they were
I am from worrying about them
I am from staying at a college campus
Again there was no room for us
I am from sleeping in the sand
I was warm
Rocks and stones dug into my back
I am from deciding to go back to Liberia
I am from a fight starting there again
I am from running
This time to Guinea
I am from two days without anything
I was tired
I am from not knowing their language
The sounds all a blur
I am from learning there are no refugee camps in Guinea
I am from all of us staying with a friend my cousin made
I am from getting money and food from the Red Cross
I am from learning that my aunt and younger cousins moved to America
I am from arranging to join them
I was so happy
December 25, 1997
I am from getting kicked out of our house
A suspicion was that we were rebels
I am from having enough money to rent a house
Our applications to America were progressing
October 1998 we came to America
We had a party
I am from laughing and crying
I was happy to be there
I am from looking back at my memories
Thinking about my past
I am from arriving and going to high school
Now I am a freshman at the
College of Staten Island
I am 21 years old
I am from feeling at home here
I am from having trouble at school
I struggle and get stressed
I am from being expected to be like everyone else
I am from hearing gun shots and cries for help
It comes back to me fresh
I am from it being hard to concentrate
People do not understand
But I’m still trying
Intuma
I had to run away though
With my aunt and cousins we all ran
I am from my feet being sore
And not eating for days
I am from running across the border
to Sierra Leone
I am exhausted
I am from people being kind to people threatening us
I am from sleeping in a mud hut all together
I am from a refugee camp
Where slept on the ground
I am from people getting sick
to dying
Mainly from water problems
I am from going to school there
To arranged concerts
To soccer games
And a church
I am from making friends
I am from war starting in Sierra Leone
I am from busses picking people up
I am from the busses being so full we couldn’t fit
It was like a zoo
Crazy
I am from getting split up from my aunt and younger cousins
We didn’t know where they were
I am from worrying about them
I am from staying at a college campus
Again there was no room for us
I am from sleeping in the sand
I was warm
Rocks and stones dug into my back
I am from deciding to go back to Liberia
I am from a fight starting there again
I am from running
This time to Guinea
I am from two days without anything
I was tired
I am from not knowing their language
The sounds all a blur
I am from learning there are no refugee camps in Guinea
I am from all of us staying with a friend my cousin made
I am from getting money and food from the Red Cross
I am from learning that my aunt and younger cousins moved to America
I am from arranging to join them
I was so happy
December 25, 1997
I am from getting kicked out of our house
A suspicion was that we were rebels
I am from having enough money to rent a house
Our applications to America were progressing
October 1998 we came to America
We had a party
I am from laughing and crying
I was happy to be there
I am from looking back at my memories
Thinking about my past
I am from arriving and going to high school
Now I am a freshman at the
College of Staten Island
I am 21 years old
I am from feeling at home here
I am from having trouble at school
I struggle and get stressed
I am from being expected to be like everyone else
I am from hearing gun shots and cries for help
It comes back to me fresh
I am from it being hard to concentrate
People do not understand
But I’m still trying
Intuma
UN Human Rights - 60 years old
To see the video - click here
10 December 2008
Stephen Marley, Angelique Kidjo and Hugh Masekela are just a few of the renowned musicians from around the world to take part in a musical project, celebrating the 60th anniversary of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights.
The song and video, The Price of Silence, also features the talents of Belgian singer Natacha Atlas (best known for her work with Transglobal Underground), American singer/songwriter Natalie Merchant (formerly of 10,000 Maniacs), Chali 2na from hip-hop outfit Jurassic 5, French-Algerian musician Rachid Taha, Michael Franti (of American band Spearhead) and Tibetan singer Yungchen Lhamo.
10 December 2008
Stephen Marley, Angelique Kidjo and Hugh Masekela are just a few of the renowned musicians from around the world to take part in a musical project, celebrating the 60th anniversary of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights.
The song and video, The Price of Silence, also features the talents of Belgian singer Natacha Atlas (best known for her work with Transglobal Underground), American singer/songwriter Natalie Merchant (formerly of 10,000 Maniacs), Chali 2na from hip-hop outfit Jurassic 5, French-Algerian musician Rachid Taha, Michael Franti (of American band Spearhead) and Tibetan singer Yungchen Lhamo.
Recent computer activities
To support the learning in this refugee unit, students have spent some time on the following web pages:
1. Against All Odds: a computer game that simulates flight from a country
2. Beyond the Fire: teen stories from teens who have left their country due to war
1. Against All Odds: a computer game that simulates flight from a country
2. Beyond the Fire: teen stories from teens who have left their country due to war
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Upcoming Service Opportunities
Martin Luther King Jr Week-End of Service
Friday
k-1-2 Service Day 9:30 am School and grounds
Family Hunger Banquet 6:30 pm SES Cafeteria and auditorium
Saturday
El Ultimo
Bi-lingual environmental fair 3:30 pm to 4:30 pm 525 SE Stark Street
Monday
Freedom Camp
10 am to 3:00 pm
Ainsworth United Church of Christ ( 30th and Ainsworth)
Ages 5 though adult call 503-758 -9867 to register
Sisters of the Road March and Celebration 2:00 pm to 4:00 pm
1615 SW 5th Ave.
Beyond
Presidents Day Rally at the State Capitol
Stand ( 9:00 am to 3:00 pm )
Energy Festival and Dance at SES
January 31st 7 to 9 pm
At home
*Take books to Powells and bring book cards to the office for classroom books
*Do a liter pick up with friends and families
*Plan a family hike and pull ivy
*Plan a neighborhood food drive
*Watch a civil rights film with a group of friends and another family
*Go through your closets and collect things for PPS clothes closet
Friday
k-1-2 Service Day 9:30 am School and grounds
Family Hunger Banquet 6:30 pm SES Cafeteria and auditorium
Saturday
El Ultimo
Bi-lingual environmental fair 3:30 pm to 4:30 pm 525 SE Stark Street
Monday
Freedom Camp
10 am to 3:00 pm
Ainsworth United Church of Christ ( 30th and Ainsworth)
Ages 5 though adult call 503-758 -9867 to register
Sisters of the Road March and Celebration 2:00 pm to 4:00 pm
1615 SW 5th Ave.
Beyond
Presidents Day Rally at the State Capitol
Stand ( 9:00 am to 3:00 pm )
Energy Festival and Dance at SES
January 31st 7 to 9 pm
At home
*Take books to Powells and bring book cards to the office for classroom books
*Do a liter pick up with friends and families
*Plan a family hike and pull ivy
*Plan a neighborhood food drive
*Watch a civil rights film with a group of friends and another family
*Go through your closets and collect things for PPS clothes closet
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