Like my earlier post, this was an assignment from my literary journalism class I took this past summer. I was asked to write an introduction/beginning to what could be a chapter of a memoir or autobiography. The assignment was to write about a person or place that is special to me. I decided to write "grandma" my older aunt who's well into her 80s. I don't know why I and my other cousins call her grandma, maybe it's a sign of respect or adoration, or maybe it was just a nickname that stuck...in any event we all affectionately call her "Grandma." Below is just a brief introduction to her and her home...Enjoy!
GRANDMA'S HOUSE
Grandma’s Southside Chicago house is over 50 years old. It sits on the 65th block of Morgan Street in a row of neatly lined houses so close to each other if you put your arm out of the bathroom window you can almost touch the window of the house next door. It’s a three story house that has been home to many at some point—my aunt Beverly, my cousins Monique, Monica, and Montel, my mom, and for a short period of time, me. I used to be scared to go downstairs in the basement by myself. There was a huge life-size doll near the bottom of the steps with piercing eyes that always used to stare right at me—she’s gone now.
During most nights when all is calm you can hear the faint sounds of a police siren wailing as it zooms past the house. We always had to make sure to lock the double-bolted door, and only open the screen door for people we knew, after we looked through the peephole. These precautions may seem drastic to some, but it was—is what we’re used to. And although we took extra care before allowing someone into Grandma’s house, once you were in, you were in. Grandma’s house was the center for many family gatherings. I remember many of my aunts, cousins, and even a few neighborhood friends visiting Grandma’s house—sitting on the old, sturdy 1950s couch watching a Bears or Cubs game or when we would sit around the dining room table and play Trouble and then dominoes. Grandma or my mom would keep score, and I found out quickly that “the one with the pen…wins” as Grandma would say with a chuckle, especially when she was the one taking score.
I can still smell the scent of Grandma’s rice pudding and sweet potatoes. But you always had to be careful about eating the meat Grandma would cook. I’ve learned to steer clear of those dishes—One day she was in the kitchen cooking fish head stew, with the eyeballs still intact! Grandma doesn’t believe in letting things go to waste, so she’s known for cooking meat that most would consider road kill.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Literary Journalism Short Stories
These were pieces I wrote in a literary journalism class this past summer. They are short pieces that incorporate dialogue and descriptions of people, places and things.
The first piece was an assignment where I had to go out and find someone on campus at work...any person working and talk with them about their job while observing my surroundings, the person I talked to and what they were doing. Then, I had to go back to class and write a cohesive story (I was only given about 15 to 20 minutes) using dialogue from the notes I had taken and descriptions of the things I had observed. It was a challenge, but it was fun! Below is what I came up with.
THE PARKING POLICE
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” I coyly asked trying to take bigger steps to keep up with Marty who, by the quickness of her pace, was on a mission.
“Uhh sure,” Marty hesitated, looking unsure of my motives for wanting to talk with her. Not many people choose to spark up a conversation with Marty, at least not a pleasant one. She spends her days…..
Once she realized I wasn’t on a secret mission to sabotage her ticketing frenzy, Marty perked up. She slowed her brisk pace to a leisure walk as we chatted about her work.
“I’ve been a parking enforcement officer for three years, and I really like my job!” She beamed. You could tell just how much Marty liked her job by the smile on her face.
Marty adjusted her glasses as she began walking further down the street inspecting cars. She stopped at a silver Honda SUV and intently studied its plate.
Indiana 353 NEH
She kept walking.
Marty squinted from the brightness of the sun, “I like meeting new and interesting people. Although, some people don’t like me,” she said with a chuckle.
“Don’t like” is an understatement, if you’ve ever been greeted by a small brown envelope, as I have, on your windshield it’s understood why Marty and all the other parking enforcement officers may not be on your list of favorite people.
“We work 10 hour shifts. From 6:30 to 4:30,” Said Marty “I patrol the same area. Sometimes I switch routes, but I walk around for 10 hours” Marty doesn’t seem to mind, she likes being outside.
_________________________________________________________________
The second piece I was asked to write also includes dialogue. Essentially, I was supposed to do the same thing as I had before, observe, take notes, and really describe the scene. The catch....I couldn't talk to any of the people I was observing. I was to be seen a not heard....a "fly on the wall."
For this particular writing assignment, I decided the park would be the best place to people watch and not look completely creepy! I chose a great day to go to the park. It was rather interesting...This too was a fun assignment. It's always fun to people watch, but it was even more exciting to observe people knowing I'd have to write a story afterward. Read my story below!
ADVENTURE HAS NO AGE
“Smack! Smack! Smack!”
“ah! Ah! Ah! smack! smack! Ah! ah!”
Nearby one of the shade trees in Freeman Lake five adult men in shorts, shirts and tennis shoes whack their way through a summer afternoon. Two hold shields and swords while three, shieldless, block the fake sword jabs with their hands.
“HA! You didn’t use your shield!” a guy with a long, red, braided ponytail triumphantly yells.
“Yeah I know! I’m out” remarks his friend. They all laugh and he steps back, kneeling to the ground, laying his sword gently on the grass. The guy with the ponytail continues sword fighting with the other three who apparently are a little bit better than their friend at saving themselves from imaginary death by sword.
“Damn it! You got me!” says another one of the sword fighters, who has been vigorously ducking, shifting, and blocking the red-head sword fighting champion’s sword.
The champion’s ponytail swings from side to side as he lunges toward his friends, thrusting his sword toward them and intercepting their meager attempts to stab him. Another warrior as fallen—his friend kneels to the ground and places his sword down. The red-head champ immediately focuses his attention on the remaining two.
“Smack! Smack! Smack!” Their adventure continues as they make believe sword fight until they grow tired of their own antics and take a break at the picnic table nearby.
****************
Further down the park just slightly away from the lakeshore 10 or so toddlers dart like chipmunks from one thing to the next—a swing set, a mini jungle gym, a slide, and a small multi-colored tunnel for climbing, but a blue shark on giant springs attracts the most attention from the little thrill seekers. The blue shark sways tenderly under the slight weight of the little girl rocking back and forth with a blissful look on her face. Others linger around waiting for their turn on the hydraulic shark.
“C’mon Jeremiah…Where are you? C’mon let’s go,” says an older black woman dressed in a floor length blue jean skirt and flowery blouse.
“Jeremiah, we’re leaving!” she continues. Jeremiah only slightly pays attention to the woman calling his name. He is too busy going down the slide. “One more slide, Okay Jeremiah?” she pleads.
Jeremiah ignores that request and goes up and down the slide a few more times.
“C’mon speed racer! He tries to get on everything,” she sighs to another woman who holds her child in her arms.
Jeremiah jumps off the slide and runs, directly, to the blue shark which garnered so much attention earlier. He jumps in the shark and sways aggressively making the shark jerk back and forth violently.
“Bye! Bye!” He yells to the woman who has been pleading with him to leave.
Seemingly at her wits end, the woman becomes a little more impatient and stern with Jeremiah. “Let’s go or next time you’re not going to be able to come here if you don’t come on right now!” she yells.
At the thought of not being able to come back, Jeremiah abruptly ends his ride on the great blue shark and runs toward the woman.
The shark isn’t lonely for long— a small child runs to it, jumps in and sways.
Two teenage girls approach the toddler playground and survey the area. They look like giants compared to the small children. One girl is wearing a black shirt and blue jeans, while her friend, who slightly resembles Little Red Riding Hood due to her taste in fashion, sports a floor length red coat. She’s obviously unaware of the heat wave that engulfs the park.
Deciding the multi-colored tunnel will provide the best thrill, Red Riding Hood climbs on top of the tunnel and walks slowly across it. Her friend seems uninterested by her idea of fun. Red Riding Hood whispers something to the girl in the black shirt and she immediately perks up and exclaims, “Okay fine, one last time!” They run like little toddlers to the now empty blue shark.
The girl in the black shirt, jumps in the shark and, like Jeremiah, aggressively jerks back and forth. Under her weight, the shark’s spring-like bounce fades and it grazes the ground.
As if the shark isn’t low enough already, Red Riding Hood joins her friend and eagerly jumps atop the shark. They giggle as the shark sways even more slowly.
Now bored with the shark, the girls jump off and run to the swings. Since there is no way they can fit in the specially made toddler swing, the girls sit on top of the swing seats. They swing back and forth a few times and then get off, as if, suddenly, they realize they’re too old for these toys. Then they’re off in search of their next adventure.
The first piece was an assignment where I had to go out and find someone on campus at work...any person working and talk with them about their job while observing my surroundings, the person I talked to and what they were doing. Then, I had to go back to class and write a cohesive story (I was only given about 15 to 20 minutes) using dialogue from the notes I had taken and descriptions of the things I had observed. It was a challenge, but it was fun! Below is what I came up with.
THE PARKING POLICE
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” I coyly asked trying to take bigger steps to keep up with Marty who, by the quickness of her pace, was on a mission.
“Uhh sure,” Marty hesitated, looking unsure of my motives for wanting to talk with her. Not many people choose to spark up a conversation with Marty, at least not a pleasant one. She spends her days…..
Once she realized I wasn’t on a secret mission to sabotage her ticketing frenzy, Marty perked up. She slowed her brisk pace to a leisure walk as we chatted about her work.
“I’ve been a parking enforcement officer for three years, and I really like my job!” She beamed. You could tell just how much Marty liked her job by the smile on her face.
Marty adjusted her glasses as she began walking further down the street inspecting cars. She stopped at a silver Honda SUV and intently studied its plate.
Indiana 353 NEH
She kept walking.
Marty squinted from the brightness of the sun, “I like meeting new and interesting people. Although, some people don’t like me,” she said with a chuckle.
“Don’t like” is an understatement, if you’ve ever been greeted by a small brown envelope, as I have, on your windshield it’s understood why Marty and all the other parking enforcement officers may not be on your list of favorite people.
“We work 10 hour shifts. From 6:30 to 4:30,” Said Marty “I patrol the same area. Sometimes I switch routes, but I walk around for 10 hours” Marty doesn’t seem to mind, she likes being outside.
_________________________________________________________________
The second piece I was asked to write also includes dialogue. Essentially, I was supposed to do the same thing as I had before, observe, take notes, and really describe the scene. The catch....I couldn't talk to any of the people I was observing. I was to be seen a not heard....a "fly on the wall."
For this particular writing assignment, I decided the park would be the best place to people watch and not look completely creepy! I chose a great day to go to the park. It was rather interesting...This too was a fun assignment. It's always fun to people watch, but it was even more exciting to observe people knowing I'd have to write a story afterward. Read my story below!
ADVENTURE HAS NO AGE
“Smack! Smack! Smack!”
“ah! Ah! Ah! smack! smack! Ah! ah!”
Nearby one of the shade trees in Freeman Lake five adult men in shorts, shirts and tennis shoes whack their way through a summer afternoon. Two hold shields and swords while three, shieldless, block the fake sword jabs with their hands.
“HA! You didn’t use your shield!” a guy with a long, red, braided ponytail triumphantly yells.
“Yeah I know! I’m out” remarks his friend. They all laugh and he steps back, kneeling to the ground, laying his sword gently on the grass. The guy with the ponytail continues sword fighting with the other three who apparently are a little bit better than their friend at saving themselves from imaginary death by sword.
“Damn it! You got me!” says another one of the sword fighters, who has been vigorously ducking, shifting, and blocking the red-head sword fighting champion’s sword.
The champion’s ponytail swings from side to side as he lunges toward his friends, thrusting his sword toward them and intercepting their meager attempts to stab him. Another warrior as fallen—his friend kneels to the ground and places his sword down. The red-head champ immediately focuses his attention on the remaining two.
“Smack! Smack! Smack!” Their adventure continues as they make believe sword fight until they grow tired of their own antics and take a break at the picnic table nearby.
****************
Further down the park just slightly away from the lakeshore 10 or so toddlers dart like chipmunks from one thing to the next—a swing set, a mini jungle gym, a slide, and a small multi-colored tunnel for climbing, but a blue shark on giant springs attracts the most attention from the little thrill seekers. The blue shark sways tenderly under the slight weight of the little girl rocking back and forth with a blissful look on her face. Others linger around waiting for their turn on the hydraulic shark.
“C’mon Jeremiah…Where are you? C’mon let’s go,” says an older black woman dressed in a floor length blue jean skirt and flowery blouse.
“Jeremiah, we’re leaving!” she continues. Jeremiah only slightly pays attention to the woman calling his name. He is too busy going down the slide. “One more slide, Okay Jeremiah?” she pleads.
Jeremiah ignores that request and goes up and down the slide a few more times.
“C’mon speed racer! He tries to get on everything,” she sighs to another woman who holds her child in her arms.
Jeremiah jumps off the slide and runs, directly, to the blue shark which garnered so much attention earlier. He jumps in the shark and sways aggressively making the shark jerk back and forth violently.
“Bye! Bye!” He yells to the woman who has been pleading with him to leave.
Seemingly at her wits end, the woman becomes a little more impatient and stern with Jeremiah. “Let’s go or next time you’re not going to be able to come here if you don’t come on right now!” she yells.
At the thought of not being able to come back, Jeremiah abruptly ends his ride on the great blue shark and runs toward the woman.
The shark isn’t lonely for long— a small child runs to it, jumps in and sways.
Two teenage girls approach the toddler playground and survey the area. They look like giants compared to the small children. One girl is wearing a black shirt and blue jeans, while her friend, who slightly resembles Little Red Riding Hood due to her taste in fashion, sports a floor length red coat. She’s obviously unaware of the heat wave that engulfs the park.
Deciding the multi-colored tunnel will provide the best thrill, Red Riding Hood climbs on top of the tunnel and walks slowly across it. Her friend seems uninterested by her idea of fun. Red Riding Hood whispers something to the girl in the black shirt and she immediately perks up and exclaims, “Okay fine, one last time!” They run like little toddlers to the now empty blue shark.
The girl in the black shirt, jumps in the shark and, like Jeremiah, aggressively jerks back and forth. Under her weight, the shark’s spring-like bounce fades and it grazes the ground.
As if the shark isn’t low enough already, Red Riding Hood joins her friend and eagerly jumps atop the shark. They giggle as the shark sways even more slowly.
Now bored with the shark, the girls jump off and run to the swings. Since there is no way they can fit in the specially made toddler swing, the girls sit on top of the swing seats. They swing back and forth a few times and then get off, as if, suddenly, they realize they’re too old for these toys. Then they’re off in search of their next adventure.
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