Survey

1. No, they're usually boring, repetitive, and consist of too much work.
2. Jokes/Short stories
3. Short stories, song, magazines, interviews
4. Long papers about the books I've read (Great Books)
5. B.
6. No, at least not about a book. Otherwise, I enjoy it because I get to hear what everybody thinks.
7. Silently listen
8. I have a job, have to take care of my dog, and have soccer
9. Went to title boxing and worked out, hung out with friends, and got involved in a lot of drama with my now ex-"bestfriend"
10. Nope!

1. What did you think of this narrative?
I thought it was sad but had a joyful feeling to it at the same time
2. What was most interesting or engaging about it?
Imagining being in her position and having everybody spell things out in your hand
3. What surprised you?
How happy one could be while being blind and deaf
4. Did this change your outlook on Helen Keller at all? Why or why not?
No, I have already seen short clips and stories about Helen Keller and they all say basically the same thing as this narrative.
5. Copy and paste three examples of vivid detail and imagery that helped enhance the story
The afternoon sun penetrated the mass of honeysuckle that covered the porch, and fell on my upturned face.

I did not know that I was spelling a word or even that words existed; I was simply making my fingers go in monkey-like imitation.

In the still, dark world in which I lived there was no strong sentiment or tenderness.

6. How can a narrative be more engaging than something like a biography? Why is it important to get someone's personal perspective?
It gives specific insights to how one feels about a situation, there is a lot more raw emotion if you get someone's personal perspective.
7. Make a bulltted lists of some things you could write a narrative about
-Learning to ride my bike
-Learning how to drive manual transmission
-Experiences w/friends
-Learning to box
-Game winning goal senior night
-Change in work ethic after fractures in my back

I am from lug nuts,
from meth injection and coolant fluid.
I am from the treadmarks on the pavement on the freeway.
I am from the rose bush,
the dead oak tree
whose only mark on the planet is the missing patch of grass on the front lawn.

I'm from the cleats on my dresser and the chocolate icing in my room,
from protein shakes and boxing gloves,
sparring with my trainer and being motivated to work out by my father.
I'm from the players and the lonely ones,
from the famous phrase on to the next one
I'm from rock bottom to rebuilding my world with my bare hands

I'm from the obsidian fireplace,
and the smell of kerosene
from the pancake my grandma makes,
the recipe of the swedish pancakes that has been passed down generations
and the wise advice my dad always has to offer.
over my bed is a shelf,
displaying trophies of athletic achievement.