Skills Showcased

This piece is critical thinking skills. It shows this by using things I’ve taken from my Creative Writing major to reflect on myself. The piece also showcases my knowledge of authors. 

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Fiction is the imagination put into reality. It can be faithful can tell truths of the real world or it can make realities come true. Characters can be made with real or make-up. It can be in the past, present, or future. However, it up for interpretation of what is seen or unseen. This is why I love fiction. Fiction has so many possibilities. You can do whatever you want. If you want to send your characters to space, then you can send them to space. If you want to create a whole New World, then you can create a whole new world. That’s why I took the Fiction Workshop class. I want to shape my own world and a new existence. In this class, I wanted to make something new something; something that has never seen before. However, I had to learn how to make my work better, how to make it stand out from the crowd, how to develop my characters build my structure, and help my world become whole.

In Fiction Workshop, I had to read multiple books with different writers. She by Michelle Latiolais, Fever Dream by Samantha Schweblin, What Belongs to You by Garth Greenwell, and Remains of the Day by Kazuo Ishiguro. Two of the four writers influence my writing throughout the course. Michelle Latiolais’ attention to details and Kazuo Ishiguro’s characters being woven into the plot and story. Michelle Latiolais is a Professor of English at the University of California at Irvine, where she co-directs the Programs in Writing. Her book, She tells the story of a young girl running away from home and she finds herself in the middle Los Angeles. Her story and other people unravel as the story progress. Michelle Latiolais’ attention to detail gives her story a clear picture of the work she trying to create. Michelle Latiolais add detail to everyday objects and give them a story. These plot details help add to the story. After talking to Mrs. Latiolais during a class skype video, I reinforced that detail is important to a story. Now in my stories, I give details to objects that are important to the characters. By doing this I add to their story. Although, Kazuo Ishiguro also did this, but in another way.
Kazuo Ishiguro is a Nobel Prize-winning novelist, screenwriter, and short-story writer. Ishiguro is considered one of the most celebrated contemporary fiction authors in the English-speaking world. Winner of the Man Booker Prize, The Remains of the Day is a book that taught about weaving characters in a story. Set in post-World War II England, Stevens; a butler at the end of three decades of service at Darlington Hall, goes on a country drive. He embarks on a journey through his past to reassure himself that he has served humanity to its fullest by working with Lord Darlington. However, he starts having doubts about the nature of his own life. Ishiguro’s characters are connected to each other. No one in the story is unconnected from the other. They all have a story with one another. Ishiguro taught me that characters who don’t connect should not be a part of the story. Now, I try to make characters who connect with each other and the story.
I learned a lot from my Creative Writing major. In the work that I’m presenting in this portfolio reflects that. From critiques I gathered in class and stories that I’ve read, I created stories that make you think about details and characters that shape our work. These works reflect what I have learned and that is why they are the best.

Featured Image: “If you like graphic novels heartily recommend the fantastic Nimona from Noelle Stevenson – beautiful story and lovely artwork” by cole007 is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

Skills Showcased

This piece is showcasing my creativity and writing skills. It shows these by showcasing I can write fiction. The piece also shows write about deep topics. 

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I investigate the mirror. I touch my soft fair skin. Brush my fingers through my straight blonde hair. I look into my deep blue eyes that seem bottomless. My face has no bumps or acne. I’m perfect.

I stare into the mirror. I’ve forgotten something. I’m missing something. What is it? My head started to hurt.

“Ella, come on downstairs and eat your breakfast,” said mom. “You need to catch the bus soon.”

My head stops hurting. I must have forgotten that. I ran out of my room and down the stairs. I stop once I reach the bottom. I examine the kitchen. The kitchen is spotless. There is no dirt or grime anywhere. The plates, utensils, and condiments were where they should be. I moved my eyes away from the kitchen and to the dining room table on the side of the kitchen. It’s just as clean as the kitchen.

Why do I think this so important?

At the dinner table, I could see a woman. That’s my mom? Yeah, that’s my mom. She is sitting at the table eating a sausage. She is blonde with a soccer mom haircut. She is still in her pajamas. Then, I see a boy to her left. His hair is perfectly cut in a boyish bob. He is wearing a white button-up shirt with jeans. He’s putting salt on his eggs. He’s…my brother. Across from him is a man.

Who is he? Oh, my d…ad. Dad. Why does that not sound, right?

My dad is a handsome man with brown eyes. He is wearing his reading glasses reading the newspaper. His plate is clean. “You finally woke up,” dad says.

“Yeah, you’re late as usual,” says my brother. “You have ten minutes before we have to catch the bus.”

I stare at him. His name is Ma…Michael. That’s his name.

“What’s wrong? Honey,” said my mom. I’m snap out of my hallucination.

“Oh nothing,” I replied. I sit down at the dinner table and start to eat my breakfast. My mom had cooked eggs, sausage, and pancakes. I eat eggs and sausage first. They were a little cold, but it’s still good. I pour syrup. I watch the brown liquid dip on my soft puffy pancakes. The liquid makes the pancakes look darker than they were before. I hate it. I stare at my pancakes. Tension building up in my chest. My head started to hurt. My skin starts to crawl. What is this? What am I? My hand touches my forehead.

“Are you ok?” my dad asked. He had reached over to me and touched my forehead. I didn’t notice he was reaching for me. I look around the table. My mom and brother look at me with concerned faces.

“Yeah, I’m good,” I says. “Just day-dreaming.” I give a nervous giggle.

My dad looks at me for a moment. “Ok,” he says. “Now, go catch the bus.”

“Oh, but I haven’t finished…” I was cut off when I look down at my plate and see my pancakes were gone.

…

I wait at the bus stop with my brother Michael. I look around. The neighborhood we live in is so nice. All the houses were two stories with primary colors. The yards were nicely trimmed. The neighborhood smells like flowers and honey. I’m amaze.  The bus pulls up. It’s a clean yellow bus.

Why do I bring this up?

“Come on sleepy head,” says my brother. He is climbing onto the bus. “You’re going to miss the bus if you keep daydreaming.”

“Sorry,” I says. I climb on behind him. Michael sits by one of his friends. They start to talk about a soccer game.

“I told you Ireland would win,” Michael says.

“Ah man I thought England would win for sure,” his friend says.

“Ella, hurry up and sit down,” Michael says.

I look around for an open seat. There are so many people on this bus, but they’re not crowding each other. Each person is in a pair.

“I don’t want to sit by you.” “Get away from me.” “Girl, sit down or I’ll start driving this bus and you can fly out of the window.” “Why do you have to sit by me?” “You’re so dark.”

“Hey Ella, come sit by me,” yells a voice.

“No, by me,” says another.

Some boys at the back of the bus were fighting over me to come sit by them. I stare in disbelief. A hand pulls at my shirt.

“Hey Ella, ignore those guys,” says a girl. “Come sit by me.”

This girl’s name is Mary. She’s my…. best friend. I sit by her. The bus starts to move.

“Are you ok Ella?” says Mary. “You’re a bit off.”

“Yeah, just sleepy,” I says.

“Oh,” Mary says. “Well I watch Beauty last night and oh my god.

Mary went into a long rant about the latest episode. I just look out the window beside her acting like I was listening.

It’s so nice. “Why does the bus have to pick her up?” “She’s making the neighborhood look worse.”

“Abel shouldn’t have done that to Chris,” says Mary. “You know what I mean.” I snapped out of my hallucination.

“Yeah, I get what you mean,” I say.

The bus stops in front of the school. Draco High School a sign reads. The school is big. It is made up of brick and stone with plenty of windows.

I walk off the bus with Mary by my side. She’s still talking about Beauty. I like that show. Yes, I like that show and in love with Angel Scott. Yes, that’s right.

We walk into the school. The floors and walls are all so shiny. It looks like it was just waxed. Everything is made up of primary colors except black. No black. Why is there no black?

“Come on,” says Mary. “We have to get to class.”

I’m pulled down the hall to a room marked Room 215.

This is English class. I remember. We walk into the class. I look around. Everyone is talking at their desk and at someone else’s desk.

Look. Look. It a monkey. I didn’t know we have a zoo now. She’s so dark. Why is this school bringing in weirdos now?

I shake my head. I look at the class at the classroom. People are still talking.

“Ella, come sit down,” says Mary.

Mary pulls me over to my desk which is in the middle of the room by the window.

“So, about Beauty,” Mary says. Before she could get started again a boy walks over to my desk.

“It’s my favorite girl,” he says.

He kisses me on the cheek. 

“Hey Gabriel, we were talking here,” I say.

“Oh sorry, Mary I’m just trying to talk to my girlfriend.

Girlfriend? I have a boyfriend, but I thought I was…. No. I like boys. I like Gabriel.

I blush. “Hey Gabriel.” The bell rings for class to start.

“Love you,” Gabriel says.

“Love you too,” I reply.

…

After dinner, I run up to my room. “I’m so tired,” I says.

I start to take off my clothes. I look in the mirror. This isn’t right.

“Yes, it is, I” says a voice.

“Who said that?” I say.

“I, your mirror,” says the mirror.  “You are perfect.”

“No, I’m not,” I says . “Missing something. I’m missing me.”

“You are missing nothing,” the mirror says. “All that is not perfect about you is gone.”

“What was not perfect about me?

“Well, your eyes, your hair, and your SKIN.”

“My skin.”

“Yes, you were black and now you’re white. You’re perfect.”

“I want to be black again.”

“Let me show you something.”

I’m pulled into the mirror. I’m in the bathroom. I look around. My eyes fall onto the shower and I see myself; my 9-year-old self. Her coarse hair is made into an afro. Her skin is as black as a roasted coffee bean.  I wasn’t naked, and the shower wasn’t on. So, why is she in the shower? Then, I see a scrubber in her hand. She starts to scrub her skin. She scrubs and scrubs and scrubs and scrubs. I watch in horror. Blood starts dripping from her arm, but my younger self doesn’t stop. She keeps scrubbing and scrubbing and scrubbing.

“Please stop,” I say.

My younger self keeps going. “Please stop,” I say.

She keeps going. My cries were not being heard. After a few more seconds, she stops.

My younger self sits on the cold floor and looks at her arm. A bloody hole is where some of the skin was.

“I can’t get rid of it,” she says. “I hate you.” I hate my skin.” She sits in the shower and starts to cry.

I cry.

You have only been at school for a month and kids were brutally bullying you for skin color. Your mother had worked hard to put you into a good rich school, and then you just get bully. See what happens when you will yourself to be who you are.

I’m still crying, but I notice that I’m back in my room. I can’t go back. I just can’t. I don’t want to be like that again.

You’re right and you don’t have to go back. You can be perfect forever. We can be per fect together. Your fair skin will always be fair. Your blue eyes will always be deep. Your hair will always be as gold as gold.

I stop crying and investigate my mirror. I see myself.  “I’m perfect,” I said.

“Yes, you are,” said the mirror.

“I’m…we’re perfect,” I say.

…

Days pass and live in bliss. My family is wonderful. My school is wonderful. Everyone loves me. No one says anything rude or mean to me. I feel good, but I always feel like something is missing. What is missing? I have everything a family who doesn’t keep the house in trash, friends who love me, a boyfriend, and a father. What could I miss? I’m perfect.

Father and I sit at the lake. We watch the water as the wind blows by and fish try to catch bugs. I sit there with a fishing rod in hand. My father is teaching me to fish.

“How do you like fishing?” he ask.

“It’s so boring,” I say back.

Father laughs. “Yeah, it is,” father says.

“Then why did you take me?”

“I just wanted to spend some time with baby girl.”

I smile. My heart grows hot. This what I want.

“Is this what you truly want?” he asked.

“What?” I asked.

“You feel like something is missing, don’t you? You feel like everything is perfect, but it’s not.”

“Everything is,” I was cut off.

“I know you Ella. You are my baby girl and for you to find out what you are missing I have to go,” he said.

“Go, go way?” I asked.

“I have to leave now,” he replied. “Bye”

Father got up from his fishing and started to walk away.

“Dad,” I said. He waves. “Dad!” I get up and go after him.

“Dad!” I’m running, but he’s faster than me.

“Dad!” I’m a little girl now.

“Dad! Please. Dad!” I’m ready behind. I try to grab his shirt, but as I do he disappears. I look around for him.

“Dad! Come back Dad!”

A room appears around me. It’s a classroom. Kids point at me. “You’re so dark.” “You’re so ugly.” “Is that why your dad left you?” “That’s what your kind does?” “They don’t like responsibilities.” “You’re a mistake.”

The room starts spinning around. The kids getting louder and taller, then it went blank.

“Stop it,” I said ???.  I open my eyes.

“Hye-Rin”, I said.

“Stop bullying her,” said Hye-Rin.

“Of course small eyes would protect the monkey,” said one boy.

“Don’t you eat monkeys,” said one girl.

“No, but I’ll punch the one I see right in front of me,” Hye-Rin said.

The boy backs up a little.

“Fine you and monkey will be left alone?” the boy said. He looked at me with anger in his eyes and walked off with the other kids.

Hye-Rin looks at me. “You have more confidence in yourself,” said Hye-Rin.

 “These kids will eat you up if you don’t.”

Hye-Rin kicks a soccer ball at her feet. “Do you want to play soccer?”

“But, I’m black.”

“And I’m Korean, so what?” Hye-Rin said back.

I smile. “Sure.”

…

I wake up in my bed and run to the mirror.

“Enough is enough,” I said to the mirror. “Want my old life back. I want my skin back.”

“I’m sorry about father,” said the mirror. “I don’t know what was up with him, but he has been fixed.”

“That’s not my father,” I said. “He left a long time ago and he wasn’t white.  I’m not white.”

“But, you are now and you are prefect,” said the mirror.

“I’m not perfect. I’m not me,” I say.

“I have black mom and brother, father who left years ago, a girlfriend, and I’m black with coarse hair.”

“That is not what you,” it replies. “What we want?”

“That’s what I want,” I say.

“No, it ISN’T.” The mirror image of me grabs me by the neck and pulls me into the mirror.

I’m in a black room. I’m back to my black self with my white-self choking me.

“That is not what you want,” it says.  “THAT IS NOT WHAT YOU WANT.”

I punch the thing in the face and kick it off me. I catch my breath. I run in the opposite direction I kick the monster.

What is that thing? Why was it in the mirror? How does it know what I want? Then, something clicks in my head. The monster gets out of its headache and starts chasing after me.

I stop and face the monster. I hold my arms out. When it gets close to me I hug it.

“I’m sorry,” I say. It screams at me.

“I’m sorry.” It goes for my neck.

“I’m sorry.” It stops fighting. I hug it hard. “I’m sorry. You’re me.”

“For years, I’ve said I hate you. I hate my skin. I hate the fact that I’m dark. I felt you were a part of all my problems. My father leaving, my mom and brother being weird, and the reason people didn’t like me. You were just trying to protect me. That’s why you made this world.”

“Yes,” it say. “However, I was given this power by you know who.”

“I know,” I say. “But, I’m happy. I love you skin.”

My skin pulls away from me. It looks me in the eye. It’s no longer in its white form. I look like me. Its skin as beautiful as the night sky. Its brown eyes are shining like hazelnuts and its black coarse hair as puffy as ever. It is crying.

“I love you too,” it say and it disappears.

At the step of my journey;

Minding through my words,

Becoming hearty, 

Asking questions with no mercy,

Seeing faces with no squirm,

Spreading my influence,

Drowning in worry,

Occupation of the unworthy,

Rhetorical of being Black.

Skill Showcased

This piece is showcasing my research, critical thinking and writing skills. It shows these by showcasing I find new ways of looking at a piece of media. The piece also shows write about usual things. 

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Human beings are a product. If a human being identifies as a woman, then she is more of a product. Women have for a long time had to adapt their appearance, Personality, and lives to be able to market themselves to men. Perfect Blue (1998) directed by Satoshi Kon, examines this productization of women and shows the effects that it has on people around those women. Satoshi uses magical realism as a way to show the blurred lines between reality and fiction as a way to illustrate how in real life our identities can be blurred by the societal constraints that are put on us. The main character, Mima Kirigoe, was a J-pop idol, Japanese Pop music idol, until one day she becomes an actress. This change in her career had created a change in the perception of Mima to her fans which drips down to her. Mima less marketable to the world, thus creating a split in her and others’ identities. I argue that the movie uses material feminism and psychoanalysis as a way to show women’s oppression is affected by capitalism. Thus, destroying the identities of women and distorting the roles of men. In addition, Perfect Blue shows how this productization can distract people from other problems that are faced in the world such as mental health.

Skills in This Piece

This piece is showcasing my creativity and writing skills. It shows these by showcasing I can write fiction. The piece also shows write about usual things. 

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Watermelons, Apples, Oranges, Nuts, Grapes, Peaches. Pears, Bananas, and Melons…

The muscles are extending from the rib cage, stretching from the collarbone to breastbone to the armpit, and reaching to the lower back. This creates a large ball of tissue. This clump of tissue hangs from the chest area. This is the anatomy of breasts.

 Mami is a twenty-year-old woman. However, this is not about Mami, but about her breasts. Her Peaches. This is about a cell that lives in her breast, a cell named Euka.

….

The human body is a massive machine. It has a lot of moving parts. Some very important and others with no use of significant merit; however, cells are integral parts of this machine. However, with a population exceeding 37 trillion per individual, how important can all of them be?

Euka was born yesterday from another cell called Euka. All cells are called Euka, but not to have any confusion we called this cell Mama. Cells mature fast. Mama was an elder at two days old. o She looked like a clump of transparent Jell-O. All her organs were visible. The nucleus, a round purple ball, was at the center of her body. Inside the nucleus was the nucleolus; a smaller blue orb. That was the most important part of a cell’s body as it was the place where reproduction starts.  Being clairvoyant, Mama knew what was about to happen and started to prepare herself for a drastic change, a process that would literally split her in half.  She started to copy her DNA. The DNA was this long line of small little balls with tinier balls spinning around them. She looked over every piece of these atoms to make sure that everything was right. When she finished inspecting her DNA, she started to produce proteins. From this, she grew bigger. Next, it was time to duplicate her chromosomes.  She started to condense her chromosomes and to get rid of her nucleus. The chromosomes split as does Mama herself. Mama’s nucleus returns, and she looks at what she has achieved. She has created a prefect copy of herself.  “Euka,” said Mama, looking tenderly at her offspring.

…

A flower meets a bee. The bee loves the flower and the flower loves the bees. The bee gives the flower a gift,  a very special gift. The flower accepts. It  is happy. The flower brings the gift inside itself. The gift starts to grow. First the heart and brain, then the remainder of the body comes into existence. An orange- shaped head surrounds the brain.  A pear-shaped body surrounds the heart. Arms and legs grow out of the body like roots. This being sits in the flower for always. Then, a light shines onto the baby. The baby is pushed out. A cry rings throughout the room. “Mami,” cried a woman.

Reproduction is the process of replacing oneself. It is a miraculous form of multiplication. If you don’t reproduce,  what use do you have?

…

It has been two days since Euka has been alive and she already knows her calling. She is fitting in well with the other Euka. Her job is to keep the breast wall stable. All day, she expands and condenses as the breast expands and condenses. It was a boring job, but it was a job she felt born to perform. She never questioned this. Four more days.

Is the job you are  given always the purpose you’re destined for?

…

Twelve to fifteen years is the age when the fruit ripens. They become plump and succulent.

The process starts slowly. One moment your chest is as flat and the next moment you have sacks dropping from your chest. This was the process that she went through. Although it was not immediate, one morning, she woke up,  and boobs just seemed to appear. When that day came, her mother had a talk with her. She told her that one day when she became a mother herself, this fruit would provide nourishment and help her children flourish,  to grow smart and strong.

“What is breastfeeding Mommy?’ she asked.

“Breastfeeding is what a woman does to feed her kids,” said Mom.

“It is one of the many purposes of a woman. Some men believe that breasts exist for them just to ogle and grope,  but breasts exist to aid the continuation of the species, to nourish generations.”

Children are hard. They cry and eat a lot. However, you are not doing your job if you don’t provide for them. Am I right?

…

Two more days elapsed. Euka watched as the Rouge and Blanc cells; the cleaner cells, ate Mama’s existence away.

Moments later, Mama made an announcement. “Euka, it’s time,” said Mama.

Euka looked at Mama in shock.

“It can’t be,” said Euka. “You have to stay.” You have to stay with me.”

“No,” said Mama. “I can’t. This the way that things must be. That is how things works. You know that.”

Euka looked down. She knew this. She knew that cells like her only lasted for seven days, living a full life before dying a death others would deem premature. This was the way that the body worked.

“Euka, we; cells, live to support Mami,” said Mama. “We live for her. We die for her. When we get old, we become less productive. That is why we spilt apart. We create new and younger versions of ourselves. This is the way Mami survives. You must accept this.  We cannot change our destiny.”

“But…” said Euka. Their was no need to complete her sentence. She stopped in her tracks because Mama was dead.  There was no burial.  Mama was just cast off. Mama laid there for a moment until the rouge and blanc cells came to clean up her body. The rouge and blanc cells were red and white cells that were the cleaner of the body. There were no tears or sacred or solemn ceremonies. They would eat the cell’s corpse and leave without a word. All cells were scared of  rouge and blanc cells, but they never questioned their job as it was their pre-programed responsibility. Euka understood that, but she didn’t like it.

“Stop that,” she yelled. The Rouge and Blanc cells did not.

“Please!” The Rouge and Blanc cells just kept going.

Euka watched as the Rouge and Blanc cells devoured her mother, thinking about her own mortality.

What’s more important your purpose or your life?

…

She was now in college and loved socializing as much as she loved studying. She was invited to Davis’ party that night at Georgia Tech. She was so excited to go to the party. Tech boys and Scottie girls were known for hooking up and getting married. She walked to her RA’s door and signed out on the cupboard. She walked out of her door and drove off to Georgia Tech.

When she reached her destination, she was greeted by other girls from her school. They were all talking to some hot guys. She walked into the fraternity house and looked around. The house was being lit up by multi-colored lights. Some people were talking while others were dancing. The space smelled like alcohol and pheromones. Mami walked deeper into the house before accidentally bumping into someone.  

“I am sorry,” she said. The man turned around and looked Mami up and down, smiling as he appraised her appearance.

“It’s ok,” he said. “My name is Chris. What’s your name?”

“Mami,” she said.

“Oh, hey I. You have some nice tits,” said Chris.

I giggled. “Thanks,” she said not knowing whether to be flattered or disgusted.

“Do you want to hang out?” asked Chris.

“Sure.”

“It is one of many purposes of a woman.” Who determines what is important?

…

The final day came. Euka’s body started to tremble. It was the day. “I don’t want to die,” thought Euka. “I don’t! I don’t!! I don’t!!!” At that moment, something changed in Euka. Her body shifted. Her DNA started to shake. Euka stopped screaming. The time had come, the time for her to die. However, she did not. Seconds passed then minutes. Euka put her arms to her nucleus.

“I’m not dead,” she said. Euka was unknowingly willing her DNA to change. She was rewriting millions of years of programing. Her seven-day lifespan was expanded. There was no end to it. 

“Need to share this with everyone else,” Euka thought. “We can all live forever.”

Cells did not die anymore. They just kept splitting apart and making new cells. These immortal cells clumped together, forming a singular mass in the  wall of the breast.

…

Death is the process of not existing. You are not living or breathing. You do not exist. This is the fear that all living beings have, but it’s nature. You should fear the unknown not the inevitable. It is also the law of nature. You must die for someone else to come in. Fair is fair. However, life isn’t fair, so why listen to nature?

…

“Doc What’s wrong with me?” Sweat trickled down her cheeks. Her stomach started to turn.

The doctor looked at her with a concentrated gaze. He had done this seemingly millions of times. However, the pity he had for his clients always leaked out through his eyes.

“Mami,” the doctor said. He rested his hand on her shoulder. “Mami, you have breast cancer.” She broke. She wailed in pain and sorrow, feeling as she had somehow failed as a woman.

Ironically, a party was going on deep inside her, at a venue not so distant from her heart. Euka was celebrating her defeat of destiny, not realizing that her longevity was possibly abbreviating Mami’s life.

Skills in This Piece

This piece is showcasing my creativity. It shows this by showcasing my creative questions and topic choice. The piece also shows how I can write about a theme. 

…

Author Study/WebQuest

Introduction
Akata Witch is novel about the mixing genres and cultures. The story is written in the perspective that’s rarely seen. Africa, Fantasy, Magical realism, and Afrofuturism all come in this one. It introduces to the world. The world that we live in, but is so different from our’s. It will show you why this book has been nominated for the Andre Norton Award for Young Adult Science Fiction and Fantasy. This webquest is here to teach you about all these genres and cultures that come up Akata Witch. I hope you enjoy the learning experience.
There are twenty-five (25) questions on this quest, that means that each one is worth four (4) points.

TOPIC I: Africa
The novel Akata Witch takes place in an African country.

Question 1: Which country is number 31?

https://www.quizzes.cc/africa-map-game-quiz-207

Answer-___________________________________________________________

Question 2: Which country is number 32?

Answer-___________________________________________________________

TOPIC II: Nigeria

Nigeria is the African country Akata Witch takes place in. Nigeria is on the Gulf of Guinea, has many natural landmarks and wildlife reserves. It has waterfalls, dense rainforest, savanna and rare primate habitats. https://www.cia.gov/library/publications/the-world-factbook/geos/ni.html

Question 3: What are the languages in Nigeria?

Answer-___________________________________________________________

Question 4: What ethnic groups are in Nigeria?

Answer-___________________________________________________________

Question 5: What are the three types of religions in Nigeria?

Answer-___________________________________________________________

TOPIC III: Afrofuturism

Afrofuturism is a cultural aesthetic, philosophy of science, and philosophy of history that combines elements of science fiction, historical fiction, fantasy, Afrocentrism, and magic realism with non-Western cosmologies in order to critique not only the present-day dilemmas of black people, but also to revise, interrogate, and re-examine the historical events of the past.
https://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/your-far-out-guide-to-afrofuturism-and-black-magic_us_5711403fe4b0060ccda34a37

Question 6: Who was the first to use the term Afrofuturism?

Answer-___________________________________________________________

Question 7: What essay was it first used in?

Answer-___________________________________________________________

Question 8: Who are the people that the article names as people in Afrofuturism?(Name three)

Answer-___________________________________________________________

All answers are in the A Brief History of Afrofuturism section of this link for questions below http://sdonline.org/42/afrofuturism-science-fiction-and-the-history-of-the-future/

Question 9: Afrofuturist storytelling parallels what genre?

Answer-___________________________________________________________

Each answer is worth two points for Question 10.

Question 10: Afrofuturism has evolved into a coherent mode not only aesthetically but also in terms of its _ mission. In its broadest dimensions Afrofuturism is an extension of the _ recovery projects that black Atlantic intellectuals have engaged in for well over two hundred years.

Question 11: TRUE/FALSE As its name implies, Afrofuturism is not just about reclaiming the history of the past, but about reclaiming the history of the future as well.

Afrofuturism addresses themes and concerns of the African diaspora through a technoculture and science fiction lens, encompassing a range of media and artists with a shared interest in envisioning black futures that stem from Afro-diasporic experiences.Seminal Afrofuturistic works include the novels of Samuel R. Delany and Octavia Butler; the canvases of Jean-Michel Basquiat and Angelbert Metoyer, and the photography of Renée Cox; the explicitly extraterrestrial mythoi of Parliament-Funkadelic, the Jonzun Crew, Warp 9, Deltron 3030, and Sun Ra; and the Marvel Comics superhero Black Panther. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-CJ01Pq9Vcw

Question 12:TRUE/FALSE Afrofuturism can be found in Outcast’s and Janelle Monae’s music videos.

Question 13: TRUE/FALSE Funkadelic, the Future, Past, and the Present, Black Science Fiction, and Rooted in Africa are some of the ways Afrofuturism was described as in the video.

Question 14: Why is Afrofuturism important according to Nnedi Okorafor?

Answer-___________________________________________________________

Nnedi Okorafor

Nnedi Okorafor is an international award-winning novelist of African-based science fiction, fantasy and magical realism for both children and adults. Nnedi is known for weaving African culture into creative evocative settings and memorable characters. https://www.nytimes.com/2017/10/06/books/ya-fantasy-diverse-akata-warrior.html

Question 15: Where was Nnedi Okorafor parents born from?

Answer-___________________________________________________________

Question 16: Who did Nnedi Okorafor ask to teach her Nsibidi?

Answer-___________________________________________________________

Each answer is worth one point for Question 17.

Question 17: That’s starting to change, as Ms. Okorafor and other speculative fiction writers have risen to prominence, demonstrating that there’s an enormous appetite for fantasy stories that feature characters and settings and tackle _ _ issues.

Question 18: Why was Nnedi Okorafor stunned by her The Shadow Speaker book cover?

Answer-___________________________________________________________

Nsibidi

A system of symbols indigenous to what is now southeastern Nigeria that is apparently an ideographic script. https://www.ted.com/talks/saki_mafundikwa_ingenuity_and_elegance_in_ancient_african_alphabets/transcript#t-86107

Question 19: Who were the of people that created Nsibidi?

Answer-___________________________________________________________

Question 20: What are the three types of Nsibidi?

Answer-___________________________________________________________

Albinism
Albinism in humans is a congenital disorder characterized by the complete or partial absence of pigment in the skin, hair and eyes. Albinism is associated with a number of vision defects, such as photophobia, nystagmus, and amblyopia. Lack of skin pigmentation makes for more susceptibility to sunburn and skin cancers. The main character in Akata Witch is Albino. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cHRM2S_fBOk

Question 21:What are the types of Albinism?

Answer-___________________________________________________________

Question 22: _ happens more frequently in African Americans and in Sub-Saharan African.

Question 23: Which country has the highest prevalence of Albinism?

Answer-___________________________________________________________

Andre Norton Award for Young Adult Science Fiction and Fantasy

An annual award presented by the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America (SFWA) to the author of the best young adult or middle grade science fiction or fantasy book published in the United States in the preceding year. It is named to honor prolific science fiction and fantasy author Andre Norton. https://nebulas.sfwa.org/award/andre-norton-award/

Question 24: What year was Akata Witch a nominee and finalist for the Andre Norton Award for Young Adult Science Fiction and Fantasy?

Answer-

Question 25: What book was the first one to win the Andre Norton Award for Young Adult Science Fiction and Fantasy?

Answer-

Designer Biography

This webquest was created by Jacqueline Yarbough. She is double majoring in Business Management and English Literature-Creative Writing with a minor in Asian Studies. She would like to one day start her own business and write a book.

List of Links

https://www.quizzes.cc/africa-map-game-quiz-207
https://www.cia.gov/library/publications/the-world-factbook/geos/ni.html
https://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/your-far-out-guide-to-afrofuturism-and-black-magic_us_5711403fe4b0060ccda34a37
http://sdonline.org/42/afrofuturism-science-fiction-and-the-history-of-the-future/
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-CJ01Pq9Vcw
https://www.nytimes.com/2017/10/06/books/ya-fantasy-diverse-akata-warrior.html
https://www.ted.com/talks/saki_mafundikwa_ingenuity_and_elegance_in_ancient_african_alphabets/transcript#t-86107
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cHRM2S_fBOk
https://nebulas.sfwa.org/award/andre-norton-award/