Synopsis
August 20th, 2008 | Uncategorized |Episode One:
In the first episode of Roots, we meet two main characters: Kunta Kinte, a young boy growing up in the area of Gambia in West Africa, and Captain Davies, the new captain of a slave ship.
Kunta Kinte
We meet Kunta Kinte as he is born, grows up and goes through manhood training. We learn a little bit about what his tribe believes and how they live. Soon after he goes through his manhood training, he is captured by slave traders and taken aboard a slave ship headed for America.
Captain Davies has just become the captain of a slave ship and he is not sure how he feels about slavery. His First Mate, Mr.
Captain Davies
Slater tries to teach him how to be a “good” slave ship captain, but it is very hard for the Captain to adjust. He is basically a good man who finds himself doing a very bad thing.
As the episode ends, Kunta Kinte and 160 other slaves are captives onboard the Lord Ligoneer and are trying to find a way to escape.
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Note: Remember to post your blogpost as a comment on this page, not on the instruction page. Make sure you include your Block, your first name and last initial only, and the name of the character you are blogging as.
Good luck.
- Mr. Fladd
51 Responses to “Synopsis”
8-1 Jamie N
S.S. Roots Blog #1
Omoro, Kunta’s Father (as a new father)
My first son has just been borne! I’m so excited and I can’t wait to let the villagers know. I’m going to raise my son to be a strong warrior and some day after he goes through manhood training he will become a leader in our family. He will help us out and do a real man’s work. Until then I have a huge job in front of me, it is hard to raise a child in a village like this. There are dangers everywhere but, I’m going to do my best to teach him to think smart and do what is right.
When I was a boy my family raised me to be a tough leader and I am happy with myself and proud of my family. I want to raise him the same way, but most of all, I want my son to think back the same way I did when he grows up.
Today my son is one year old. He is growing fast and can start to talk. We have had some tough times raising him, but I expected that. We are very fortunate that our son hasn’t had any major illnesses and has been healthy his entire life. Lately, I have been hearing from other tribes that slavery has been getting worse. When my son gets older I’m going to have to teach him how to be cautious so he doesn’t become a slave. I can’t even think what would happen if a member of our family was taken in. I try not to worry about the things that could happen and think about the things that will happen. Our faith and persistence will make it all worth it in the end.
[Jamie - You asked me to take a look at this and see if this is what I had in mind. It is EXACTLY what I had in mind. What a good job! Congratulations on a nice little piece of writing. (Be a little more careful about your spelling, however.) - Mr. Fladd]
Callie B.
8-3 Social Studies
Captain Davies
I honestly don’t know who I am anymore. I thought this job would be easy. Be a good captain, load the slaves, manage to keep them alive till we got to the main land, and go back to my children and my wife. I didn’t think that it would pain me to see the slaves. I didn’t think it would make me think and re think every action I do. I still think of them as a different species but nothing should be treated the way that they are, like livestock. Sometimes I question my sanity, and if I am really living up to my religion by doing this. Looking in the mirror, all I see is guilt, but why? I am a white man; I am using the power that entitles being white. White men do not follow one another, or they will not ever stand beside a black man, but is that the way I truly feel, is that the way it should be? Part of me says their nothing but a pile of chickens and part of me says they are people to… I’m clearly drinking my way through the most of this, and im assuming that I’m not the only one that’s noticed. Slater, I can tell has been testing me with my feelings towards the slaves. Looking at me two ways; like I’m losing my mind, and like I’m a stupid little boy. I am a grown man and deserve to express my emotions in any which way I choose, even if that does mean drinking. No wonder Slater isn’t married with children, his heart is made of lead. It isn’t just because he’d rather see a slave dead than alive, it’s that he could talk about killing or using something with such ease. And for Mr. Slater to throw the offer of the sailors to use the woman like that! Absurd! I do not favor in that type of use of woman, I favor in slaves working but not that. Now Slater presents me a woman slave for my use, to take the chill off he says, merely a blanket, a blanket of flesh. I just want her to know that I will not harm her but we do not speak the same tongue. I promise myself that I will not touch her, I truly do not want to. My wife is everything to me, same with the children. I would never want to do anything to jeopardize our relationship along with respect. I can do it, I hope.
[That was awesome, Little Possum! I like the way you used metaphor - "nothing but a pile of chickens". I think you've got a pretty good handle on his existential angst (a good phrase; look it up). - Mr. Fladd]
Izzy K.
Block 8-3
Village girl (seeing the boys returning from manhood training)
I saw the tribe coming out of the woods; I could feel my lungs expand with happiness. I saw Kunta Kinte towards the front of the group and the look on his face froze me in place. I had grown up with these boys and knew each and every one of them so well. Kunta was like a brother to me. I stood there in awe and watched them enter the village. I was going to run up to them and congratulate them right then and there when I felt a hand on my shoulder.
“They are men now.” Omoro said to me. A wave of sadness rained over me although I can’t say why. Realizing everything had changed, I wondered what it would be like to talk to Kunta. He was no longer a boy, he was a man. That’s what manhood training was, right? You leave as a boy and return as a man. And I thought everything would be the same? No. He wasn’t going to be like that boy I use to know, who I played in the mud with as a kid, ran through the village with all the other children, or even just talked to. He was a man now. He would have his own hut and soon be married and start a family of his own. Is that why I was sad? Who knows? I probably shouldn’t worry about it too much and just focus on the dancing for tonight. Maybe I could talk to him then?
[Izzy - I really like your second paragraph. "everything had changed" That's a short phrase with a lot of impact. Well done. - Mr. Fladd]
Katie L.
8-3 S.S
Kadi Touray (Fanta’s Father)
I was fishing along the river when I started to hears cries of help coming from my home. I then remembered Fanta was up at camp making our lunch! I threw my fishing rod and ran my fastest Hoping Fanta had not been hurt.I came to the clearing to find a young man sprinting through the field. I chased after him. Knowing he might have hurt my daughter was my determination to catch him! I finally caught him and had him in a head lock. He introduced him self as a Mandinka warrior I wanted to know his name.
Disrespectful to talk to an elder without give him your name. He tells me his name is Kunta Kinte I introduce myself and tell him about my family’s journey to Carawang and ask him if it is far from where we are. He continues to tell me about his manhood training. He seems to be in a rush, but I refuse to let him leave after knocking down my mid-day meal and without apologizing to my young daughter Fanta. He continues to rant about his manhood training, but I will not let him go. I push him along and when we approach my family’s camp I introduce Kunta Kinte to my beautiful daughter Fanta. They quickly Peace to each other, but I am not pleased. He apologizes for no apologizing louder before. I watch him very carefully as he picks up my mid-day meal. He says peace again and me and my daughter repeat so back to her. He then runs off continuing his journey to manhood training.
[Katie! This is pretty good! There's one, small problem, though! You use a lot of EXCLAMATION MARKS! You should probably save them for special sentences that need a lot of emphasis! That aside, this is pretty good. Next time, tell me a little more about how your character feels and what he or she thinks. - Mr. Fladd]
Kelli P.
8-3 Social Studies
Mr. Slater (talking about the slaves)
I can’t believe those stupid, rotten slaves actually trying to get free! It’s incredible, really. There have been so many attempts from a multitude of them. I’m surprised they haven’t killed themselves trying! The only reason I’m keeping them alive is because I know I’ll get paid for dealing with them later on. Thank the Lord.
Their awful odor just makes me sick. I can’t stand it. Thank God I have workers to go down there to check up on them. If I had to do it myself there would be a good chance of me throwing up. Their terrible smell has basically already taken over the entire ship. You can smell it all over the place. Even In our own rooms!
My workers just found another dead one. That’s the second one this week! They’re dropping dead just like fish out of water! Hopefully we don’t lose anymore because if we do, it’s going to cost us.
Captain Davies is still a little iffy about the slaves. He kept complaining about being cold on some of the stormy nights so, I offered him a woman to keep him warm for the cold, stormy nights but, I don’t know if he actually wanted to take her for granted like the rest of the workers and also myself. He never did tell me if he used her or not.
I hope we get to the main land safely. Or should I say I hope the slaves get there safely. To me they’re just bags of money.
[I really like your last sentence. It's chilling. You're a good writer. - Mr. Fladd]
Ally M.
8-3 Social Studies
Fanta (Before being captured.)
I have just been used as a human hurdle and I was knocked over. I was doing my daily chores and heard a noise in the forest. At first I thought it was a bird, but it turned out to be a man. He came running toward me and before I knew it, he bashed right into me and I fell to the ground and everything I had collected also fell on the ground. I started yelling for my Father to come. The man had stopped for a split second, and was trying to calm me down but I was terrified.
He took off running when he heard my Father’s footsteps. He was fast and skilled at running around objects. He was not fast enough because my Father had caught him and brought him back to where I was. My Father made him apologize. I can remember him saying that his name was Kunta Kinte.
When I finally got to take a good look at him, he looked like a nice man. He said that he was in the middle of manhood training. I started to like this “soon to be man.” When my father let him go back to manhood training, I was thinking, “Will I ever see Kunta Kinte again?”
I had nightmares about him being dead in the forest, then I had dreams about him holding my hand, and we were living together with kids. I had wanted to see him again so much that that when I was doing chores, I would hallucinate and see him, I would run to hug him and went right through him.
[Ally - Well done. I like the dreams; they add a really rich element to your blog post. I also like the phrase, "human hurdle". - Mr. Fladd]
Samantha Lazott
8-3 Social Studies
Elizabeth Davies (Captain Davies wife)
I am very disappointed that he would make a decision like this. To be a Christian and treat other people as though they were livestock is totally unacceptable! People are not meant to be slaves. My husband should treat them like they way he treats his brothers, or me! What happens to him on those long trips across the ocean? Does he become someone who has cold heart? I hope he’s thinking about me! Men these days don’t know anything. He can kiss his title for Captain Davies away! I am not calling him by that name! Not once! Why can’t he be a shoe maker or something else? There must be some other job out there that he could be doing. I hope that nasty boat is horrifying him. I don’t even want to talk about it, when he gets home. Or will he ever return? He’ll most likely jump off the boat instead of being there sharing the ship with nasty people who treat the slaves cruelly. Whatever, he can have it his way and ruin his life. The ship and the other crew members don’t care about the slaves and their wellbeing. I wish he could see it, but like I said men don’t know anything. Hopefully someone who takes care of their slaves properly and treats them like normal human beings buys them. I hope my husband doesn’t expect me to be home by the time he gets back! No sir! I am going to busy myself with the trading of vegetables. A foolish mistake can ruin a man’s life. I am very ashamed that he would take charge of a ship who keeps people in shackles! Have fun on that ship Captain Davies.
[Sam - You bring a lot of passion to this blog post. I agree that Elizabeth Davies MIGHT have felt that way. On the other hand, she might have struggled with her husbands situation, just like he did. Today, WE know that slavery was evil and inexcusable, but in the 1700s, an upper-class white woman might not have seen it exactly that way. Thank you for a very spirited blog post. - Mr. Fladd]
Kate P.
8-3
Omoro, Kunta Kinte’s Father
It was a beautiful day the sun was shinnig the birds were tweating there was a nice breeze. I was proud of my son for many reasons. But the one that I was the most proud of him for was that he just came back from man hood training. I heard good comments about him from the ka-tango that he was a brave young man. I remember that morning when I went hunting to give kunta a little welcome back gift. He was a man now so I knew that I had to treet him differently but a nice average sized bird wouldnt hurt. When I got back in the late afternoon I remember my wife say all nerviously kunta has been gone for quite some time now. He was looking for some sticks to make a drum for his younger brother in the woods. “Was he alone?” I asked “yes” she replied. I imedeatly thought that the white men had took my son but that would have never happened. I was going to try and be nice to him that day but that boy had so much to learn still when I see him I have to talk to him. When I gathered a couple of men with me to go search for kunta I still was thinking of the white men. After an hour of searching we found a dead body in the distance I ran to it and it wasnt kunta. I was releaved but I still didnt find him then about 5 yards away of the body I saw kuntas little pouch that he would always carried around with him. Then I knew the white men took my son. There was stories passed down from generations and generations that when the white men captured you they took you to another world over the blue blanket which you couldnt see to the other side of. I was devistated walking back to the village my wife saw me and asked “wheres kunta?” “the white men has taken our son” I replied.
[Kate - this was really well-written. You did a pretty good job of climbing into Omoro's head. Just a few observations: 1) Please tell which block you are in. This will help me grade your blog post quickly and easily. (I've done that for you.) 2) Please tell who your character is, so readers will have a better idea of what's going on. (I've done that for you.) 3) Please post your comment on the blog for the episode we've just watched. You posted yours on the Instructions Page. (I've moved it for you.) - Yours, in Rootsiness, Mr. Fladd]
Tyler P.
8-2
Lamine – Kunta Kinte’s Little Brother
My big brother Kunta Kinte has just come home from manhood training! Mother says he will no longer be living with us for he is man now, and men don’t live with their mothers and fathers. This makes me really sad, because Kunta plays with me and teaches me things about goats. Mother says he came home while I was having my morning rest. All the time he was away mother had tears come from her eyes, and father made Kunta a hut to live in. I don’t know where Kunta went but mother says I will go there someday if I am a good boy and eat my dinner. I hope I still get to see my brother, and I hope he won’t forget about me now he is man. When I woke up I went to see Kunta Kinte in his new hut, he was so happy his face was full of smiles. He told me he was going to make me a drum! I cannot wait to the drum my brother will make for me! It will be weird for brother not to be here and not to take me to the river to go fishing. Now that Kunta Kinte is a man he will get married to a nice girl from our village. But for now he lives all by himself in his hut. Grandmother says I must visit him a lot so he doesn’t get lonely. Some of the other boys my age are telling me that it is great to have a brother who is a man because he will bring honor to your family. Father is teaching me to take care of the goats so I can because Kunta has his own goats now. Maybe Father will let me take care of our goats soon. Mother said something that makes me very, very sad she said men do don’t play tag like little boys. So Kunta Kinte will no longer play games with me and my friends. I do not know if I am happy my brother is now a man or if I am sad he doesn’t live with us anymore, and will not play with me anymore but now he does have a knife and bow. My brother is a Mandinka warrior and he is brave. And someday I will be just like him. My friends have brothers, who are now men too, and we like to play warrior, we pretend we are them. We pretend to have battles and fight like the warriors we will play warrior tomorrow after our morning meal I can’t wait. Tonight is a special ceremony for the boys who have become men there will be food, dancing, music and lots of fun. I am also excited because grandmother said that she would take to the river today to go fishing.
[Tyler - this is really good. I like the way you have Lamine thinking about taking over herding the goats and other big-boy responsibilities. A couple of small problems, though: 1) Please use your first name and last initial only. (I've changed it for you.) 2) Please tell which block you are in. This will help me grade your blog post quickly and easily. (I've done that for you.) 3) Please tell who your character is, so readers will have a better idea of what's going on. (I've done that for you.) 4) Please post your comment on the blog for the episode we've just watched. You posted yours on the Instructions Page. (I've moved it for you.) Do you sense a theme here? - Mr. Fladd]
Peyton O.
8-3
Brima Cesay- the Village Leader
I have now been here for a while. Being the village leader is very powerful though. Another life brought into this village, though not knowing the name yet. I’m sure this baby boy will become a strong warrior and be a big help to our village.
I help people make their decisions if they come to me. Omoro had asked me what he should name his child, but I didn’t answer him because it wasn’t my choice. I knew it was only right for him to choose for himself and the family.
I lead the paths of young children, giving advice on different things and making sure everybody is all right. I try to keep the villagers out of trouble and they all are safe. I feel strong as a leader. I feel like it is my job to make sure everybody has a good life here, my job to keep everyone else strong along with me. That I try, but some people are satisfied. Some people just don’t understand what it’s like to be a leader, you may feel powerful and strong but it’s tough being the only man in charge. It’s difficult to make sure everybody is safe, to make sure everyone is happy, all by myself.
Every day, I see the children running around learning new lessons, and that once was me. When I was a kid, I didn’t know where the path would bring me, but I stayed strong and was successful. I made a hard effort, doing what my father had taught me and following the rules. Every man here is to remain strong, to carry their own family and to be a leader. A leader for their kids, their family, and their selves. Those are the lessons I have showed every man to follow. So far, they have. They listened to me like I listened to my father, which will make them more successful.
[I like the "I lead the paths of young children" paragraph. This is a successful essay. - Mr. Fladd]
Brooke L.
8-2
Kunta’s Grandmother
It pains me now to think back on it, as I draw my last breaths. I think about my grandson Kunta. Kunta, he was such a wonderful boy, always smiling and laughing. He was a good boy, a very good boy. I grimace inside as I recall the day I last saw Kunta. I remember that day as if it were yesterday. I had heard that Kunta had returned from manhood training with the other men. I went over to my daughter’s hut, wondering if Kunta had been to see her yet. I found her alone crying on the ground saying that Kunta was not the boy she had sent away and he no longer treated her as his mother. Yes, Kunta was now a man but he had no right to treat his mother in such a rude fashion. I was going to knock some sense into that man; after all I was his grandmother. I made my way to Kunta’s new hut, it was well made, his father had put so much time into it. I then saw Kunta, welled up with the pride of no longer being a boy. He may have been a man to the rest of the tribe but he was still a boy to me, I was his grandmother. He could “grow as tall as a tree” but I would make sure he would still respect me and his mother. I needed to prove to him that now, even though he was a man, he was not Allah, he did not control everything and he needed to respect his elders. I told him to give his mother something that would show he still cared about her. Kunta could not think of a gift to give his mother. I suggested he make a gift for his little brother instead, knowing that, that would mean something to his mother as well. He decided on a drum, he was going to make his little brother a drum. Kunta seemed very satisfied with that decision and told me “Tomorrow I will hunt for a log to make such a drum.” Those were the last words Kunta Kinte spoke to me. Why had Kunta been so foolish? Why hadn’t he brought a friend with him? Why did he go into the forest alone? Didn’t he smell the white men? Didn’t he know they were coming? I often wonder that if I hadn’t insisted that Kunta make a drum for his brother if he would still be here now. Was it my fault? Was it because of me that Kunta was never to see his family? That he never got to see his baby brother grow up? Was it my fault?
I’m sorry. I am so sorry Kunta Kinte. If only you could hear me.
[I like this. You put some good thought into this. - Mr. Fladd]
Hi im a wooloff I am the slave who plays the drums on the slave ship when they had to dance. I don’t really like being a slave because all you get to do is lie down on a wicked hard bench that wipes the skin off your back. I don’t like the sight of people dying next to me and all around me they don’t make a very good noise they make a death growl. It feels weird playing the drums all chained and making my hands heavier and not getting a lot of food because they don’t give you a lot of food and sea sickness. I also feel weird because I have never been on the ocean before and never been fed so little without throwing it back up. I think that they have way too many of us on the ship. I don’t like to see my friends dying off and not be able to say good bye. I don’t like the feeling of being on the sea because it is something new and im not used to staying on wood for 24 hours a day. The thing that I do like is when I get to drum and watch everybody dance to my drumming and get to get off the hard shelve. When I see the people dancing to my music I get a good feeling and I like that feeling. When we get to get out of the hole it’s like heaven and I wish we could stay on the upper deck longer then they give us.
["When we get to get out of the hole, it's like heaven". That's a nice piece of writing. I'll be interested in seeing how your writing develops over the next several months. - Mr. Fladd]
Jacob S.
8-1 S.S
I am Fanta’s mother,
Fanta knew Kunta Kinte. I think they liked each other. Kunta Kinte was in manhood training and he was on a quest to catch a bird without killing or hurting the bird, and tackled Fanta. He had to apologize to her. The slave catchers took Fanta and killed my family. My husband was killed. He was screaming like a warthog getting killed. Since he wasn’t screaming Fanta’s name, I just know he got killed. Fanta didn’t know he’s dead, she thinks he is still alive with the rest of the family but we are all dead. I hope my daughter; Fanta doesn’t do anything stupid to get herself killed and even though she was captured. I hope she still has a good life. I hope Kunta Kinte takes care of my daughter and protects her like the nice young man that I know and love. I really wish I could watch my daughter live her life get married and have kids, and I can also watch them grow. All I live for is my family and to see a smile on Fanta’s face and be happy. All I do is make my family happy I don’t care what I have to do to have my family healthy and happy and just be by their side, and do anything I have to do to help them live. I cook and clean all day long for my family. When they come home from hunting I will welcome then and I will ask for nothing in return.
[As a boy, it's hard to write from a woman's point-of-view, especially one who wasn't a major character in the movie. You put a lot of thought into this. You are becoming a thoughtful student and that makes me proud. - Mr. Fladd]
Shadelle.W
8-1
African Slaver
I am a mean person. I’m an African Slaver. I travel on ships to faraway places where slaves are born. I enjoy doing this for the money I receive. I hide in tall bushes and trees where they can’t see me. Then I jump out from where I’m hiding and monkey’s yell and run. Then the chase is on. My adrenaline is pumping making me feel like a cheetah. I chase them to an open area where others of my kind emerge from hiding and form a circle around the slaves. They scream in terror, having no idea what is happening to them. I come really close to them handling chains. I grab ahold of them and hook it around their arms. Another man throws a rope over the neck and we drag them to the jail on the beach. Next I go to where Fanta’s family lives. I go to where her family lives and some of my men grab the father, daughter and wife. We tie the daughter up and kill her father first. Then we kill her mother. We then bring Fanta to the boat and start to load the slaves. The slaves are brought to a cramped room where they are stacked three high. This is plenty of room for the slaves. After three days on the ocean we unlock the women and take advantage of them. I pick out a nice one for the captain for a bed wormer. I love my job and I can’t wait to make some money selling some slaves.
[I wonder if he WOULD love his job. I wonder if he'd see himself as mean. - Mr. Fladd]
Cameron B.
8-1
A boy from man hood training-
Today a man kidnapped me that was in my tribe. They put a sack over my head and lead me through the forest to a secret place in the woods. When the sack is taken off my face hit light for the first time for hours. Me and some other boys of the same age from my village were with me lined up next to me. The elders from my village were talking to us about becoming a man and learning what men need to learn. After orientation we slept in our tents. The next day we learned hot to fight, build weapons and how to disarm our opponent. There was a wrestler there thought taught us how to fight. Me and my friends all fell asleep in our tents. The third day in manhood training the elders taught us how to track, capture, kill, and skin animals. That day the third day we learned about the “white man” and what they do to us. The forth day we learned how to fish, make tents, drums, and abut the tribe secrets, on the fifth and final day of men hood training we finally became men, there was cutting and blood. We left the village as boys and left as men.
[Cam: This is a good start. I'd like to hear more. - Mr. Fladd]
Jack H
Social Studies 8-3
Kunta Kinte (as a boy)
I woke up to the smell of meat cooking over a fire. I jumped up rolled my bed up and hung it on the side of the hut. I ran out into the sun, the glare hurt my eyes so I held my hand up to let my eyes adjust. In the center of the village, men and children were gathered around an animal being roasted on a fire with a huge spit. Everyone was staring at the huge beast as smoke rose. The warriors had returned from their hunting trip. They thanked Allah for providing them with such a wonderful beast. The meat was some of the best I have ever had. Last night I dreamed about the white man, they captured me and took me and family. They put me on a boat and we flew up into the sky to a village on a cloud were white and black people were peacefully talking. My family and I lived happily ever after.
Father said he would take me fishing today if I was good and I have been excellent. Father showed me how to make a pole to spear fish. He said every man should know how to fish and that patience is an important virtue. He said you can’t fish without patience but that good patience is always rewarded. On the way to the river I asked if we were going to the camping site on which manhood training is conducted. He said that the location of manhood training is for him to know and for me to find out. When we arrived at the river, the rain upstream caused the river to be flowing at a steady pace. We perched on top of a rock overlooking the river. I watched father as he successfully speared three fish in a row. “You know I used to be one of the two fishermen of the village.” He then told me to take a turn and I sat on the edge of the rock waiting. After about an hour a big fish slowly swam under the ledge. I aimed and then thrust my spear down toward the fish. I pulled the spear up and I had a fifteen inch fish. “Good patience is always rewarded, he repeated.” I heard sounds off in the distance during the walk home. Father said it was the white people but I think they are working on the camp of manhood training. We got back to the village and cooked the fish. We ate them for supper with mother; she was very worried because I forgot to tell her that we were leaving. “Make sure you always give a time you are leaving and a return time. Make sure you are always accompanied by a man” father warned. “The last thing I would want is for you to be captured by white people.”
[You make it seem like growing up in a Mandinka village in the 1700s would be pretty special. - Mr. Fladd]
Alex U
8-3
Omoro, years after Kunta has been kidnapped
Today it rained very hard. I saw my youngest son in the corner playing with his new drum. I was instantly reminded of Kunta. It has been many years since I last saw him. I still remember the day clearly in my mind. Finding his necklace lying on the ground. Having to tell everyone. I wonder if he is still alive. If he is being tortured as a slave. Or if he is already dead. But I must stay strong. I must not let my wife and son down. Most importantly I must not let Kunta down. I have to believe that he is strong and can withstand the white man and maybe someday escape. Our life is now filled with with sadness and hard work. Lamine is still young and is not yet able to do a man’s work. All we have is the goats from when Kunta was still here. Which reminds that my wife is barely able to do anything these days. I don’t think she will ever fully recover from what the white man has done. And all the other Africans who help the white man. How could they part of this? Taking our children for slaves and beating them to death. Things are hard for everyone in the village now. But if we want to prosper like we did before we will have to move on. We will always be sad about what happened to Kunta Kinte and I can’t help thinking of him. We will not lose anyone else to slavery. We will stay strong against the white man.
[When I first saw this blog post, I thought that it was probably too short, but as I read it, I realized that you filled it with so much detail and emotion that it is perfect, just the way it is. Well done. - Mr. Fladd]
Cal M.
8-2
The old man in the village (after seeing the boys return from manhood training)
I remember those days. It was sad and frightening. If I’m remembering correctly the age was thirteen or fourteen, somewhere around there? That’s where it all happened. I remember I was feeding the chickens and milking the goats, ma was mad at me that day. I didn’t know why? but I wasn’t going to let it get the best of me. I soon cheered my self up, I was perfectly fine. My father then snuck up behind me, it was just like that. He had snatched a yellow piece of clothing over my head, it was almost like a pillow case. I was deeply confused and had know idea why my parents were treating me like this? They lined me up with about fifteen other boys from my village, some my friends. I had know idea who they were until we took our pillow cases off. When we were walking to the manhood training camp, we could not see anything, we put our hands on each others shoulder as we walked there. I was going to leave a boy, and soon return as a man in a few months. It was hell.
I feel bad. I don’t know why? Those boys, or should I rephrase myself, those men, that just returned from manhood training, probably just suffered the worst two or three months of their lives. Its terrible there. Although I must admit it has made me a much more wiser man then the road I was taking when I was about the age of fourteen. They taught us to never go into the woods by ourselves. Or to even walk by bushes by ourselves because of the thought of being ambushed, and captured. The thought of leaving our village and being made into a slave was much to worse to think about. I couldn’t. I was to do what was told of me and do it with pride. I did. There was one thing though, it never helped me in anything. I had to do it and if I didn’t I would not be considered a man. I must get myself circumcised. Yea that’s the thing with the blade that goes down there. That was pain. I did it and returned a man.
“Hey you, Kunta how was it?”
“Where do I begin? It was overwhelming. I wanted to give up, but I couldn’t. I’m glad its now over and I am now returning a very wise passionate man.”
“I’m proud of you Kunta, remember that, now go see your mom she has something for you.”
[I like how you found that thread, that connection that ties together the generations of men in the village - in this case, the mock-kidnapping that takes the boys to manhood training. This is a thoughtful piece of writing. - Mr Fladd]
Bryce C.
8-3
Kunta’s Grandmother (when Kunta is born)
I am so thrilled to see my daughter giving birth. A million questions are bottled in my mind right now. Will the baby have an illness? What will Omaro name him? Will he be a male or a female? I hope my beautiful daughter delivers a boy because I want Omaro to bond with him. He can help his parents out with stuff that needs to be done around the property also. I can’t take all of the groaning and crying so I step outside to get some fresh air. I see Omaro pacing back and forth, adjacent to the river side. I wonder what is going through his head. I bet he is very anxious to see if the baby will result as a male or a female. I think he wants to have a boy because he can bond with him a lot better than a girl and he can be put through manhood training, which converts him from being a little child into a strong, confident man.
I step back inside, and I see that my lovely daughter has made a lot of progress with delievering the baby. She is sweating because of the humid heat inside the hut and she is also crying because it hurts a lot. Trust me, I know how it feels! A friend of ours is wiping down my gorgeous daughter with a rag. The reason why she is doing this is because she is very uncomfortable giving birth and it’s hot in here. As I’m standing up in the dark, humid hut, I feel bad for my daughter because she is pushing as hard as she can, and she isn’t making a lot of progress. All that is going through my head at this point is that I am excited because I’m going to be a grandmother and I am going to have a grandchild! I am also going to be a godmother for the baby too! As soon as the baby is out, I sprint out of the hut and call Omaro over.
“Omaro. Come here!” I say.
He clapped his hands and he starts jogging towards the hut. He runs through the neighbors hut, which makes me smile. As soon as he crosses the threshold of the hut, his face brightens with a big, fat smile. He sees his newly born son, and I’m sure he is stoked because his dream of having a boy came true! Omaro picks him up and that big, fat smile increases as a huge, joyful smile!
["I hope my beautiful daughter delivers a boy because I want Omaro to bond with him." There is so much deep thought in that one sentence! You did a very thoughtful and good job climbing into this woman's head. Well done. - Mr. Fladd]
Chris C.
8-3
Wrestler (During Manhood Training)
One more day before the village boys come to manhood training. I will teach them the ways of being a warrior and how to fight the enemy. I remember when I was a stupid boy that did not know anything about the world. Then I went to manhood training and learned everything I need to know to be a man.
It is the day of manhood training and I am ready to make these inexperienced boys into good fighters and warriors. Before they come I will practice my moves that will take them down. Since they do not know how to fight it will be easy to embarrass them. They will either sit there and wait for me to make a move or they will charge me like a bull and I will simply move to the side and trip them up. Here they are, I can see that they do not know where they are, but are a little bit glad to be able to see again. They are so young and nervous, but the manhood training will teach them a lot and sculpt them into fine young men.
It is my time to teach these boys how to fight. As I stand in the middle of the ring I look around at the boys. I can tell they do not want to fight me and make a fool of themselves. They will not challenge me if they are smart but they will if they want to show me courage and honor. I will wait for one of them to stand and try to fight me. Oh who is this boy who stands, I can tell he is not afraid just nervous to fight because he does not know how . What is he going to do, stand there or charge me? When is he going to make his move? I am ready for whatever it is. I wonder what he is thinking as we circle each other. He starts to charge me and I take a quick step to the side and trip him. He does not know how I just did that so precisely but he gets up again and we start to circle. He charges me again and I flip him over. He admits defeat and goes back to his seat outside of the ring. The boys look at me like I am a god. I want another one to challenge me and fail. I remember when I was in the ring fighting my manhood wrestler. I was the first to get up and challenge him. I failed like everyone else their first time, but I showed courage to fight him. These boys have not showed me any courage yet except for that on boy who was strong but stupid. I must find this boy who has courage. I need to know his name and I will teach him further. He has what you look for in a warrior. I can not teach courage, but I can teach him how to use that courage.
This is the second day of manhood training. I will see if these boys have actually been paying attention to my lessons. This is the last time I will fight the boys in my ring. I need to put them to the test. I stand in the middle of my ring looking at the boys, almost men. Some of them still looked scared to fight me but I hope that will go away. I wait a little bit and the same boy gets up to face me. This will show me if he learned anything. We circle each other again and I wait for the boy to make his move. The boy lunges at me again and ends up on the ground. He has not learned yet the right way to fight. He looks at me like I have 10 eyes and wonders how he got on the ground. He gets up and goes back to his seat. Soon he will be a great fighter like I am. He just has to learn some more. When manhood training is done he will be ready to fight me.
[Wow. I know you were a little worried that you wouldn't figure out how to crawl into the Wrestler's head. You did a GREAT job of it. I like how you have him practicing and practicing ahead of time, to make what he does look effortless when the time comes. I also like how you have a well-thought-out reason for his embarrassing the boys - it's not just being mean; it serves a real purpose. Well done. - Mr. Fladd]
8-3 Tanner R
S.S Roots Blog #1
Wrestler-(after being captured)
Come on wake up, wake up! I soon figured that this was really happening to me. I could not believe it. I was not just sleeping with a horrible nightmare going on in my head. I was really in the moment, standing here stuck in a cage with my hands and feet locked up in chains. How is this happening to me? How did I did I let the white men capture me? I could not find the answer. I was the strongest and toughest warrior of my tribe when I entered manhood training and came out being a true wrestler. I had the moves to take out the white men and run. Why didn’t I? I was clueless to why I didn’t. We were brought outside of the cages and were chained up to a person trailing in front of us and were taken down to the bottom deck of the white man’s ship. It is a shameful place to be, down here in the dark of a white man’s ship. All of us black men and women stacked carelessly on wooden boards like if we were books. Who do though those white men think they are? And what did we ever do to them for them to treat us so horribly? Those putrid men are going have a taste of this for themselves once I’m out of these shackles. But as of right now there is no sign of escaping. Kunta Kinte who was a few men down on the same shelf started to get overwhelmed and began to freak out. I gave the young warrior the best of my knowledge to calm him down seeing as he was in the same position as I am. We were brought onto the the top deck to get splashed with salt water and get our exercise for the week. Man did that salt water burn as it entered our raw meat. That just led my anger to a whole new level. I began to get fire and fury in my eyes I stared hard at the white men on this ship and started a chant of anger telling them to sleep lightly. We were then escorted down into the dungeon as I saw it. We were placed on new shelves I was up top with Kunta beneath me. I began to eat the white mans food. It was the worst slop I have eaten before I didn’t even know what it was but I knew I had to eat it to stay strong to kill my enemy “the white men.” Then I couldn’t believe it a man right next Kunta had lost his life. Then those careless pukes unlocked his shackles and dragged him right of the shelf to the top deck and fed him to the sharks seeing that just made my stomach drop but made me get really mad. But seeing what happened when the warrior died gave me an idea because when the man had died his shackles were unlocked so I had thought to myself if some of us played dead we would get out of our chains and we could fight back. But their was one problem all of us black men and women could not speak the same language. I yelled out to the black people to inform them to try and teach the person next to you your language so we could all communicate with each other and come up with a plan to escape the white mans traps.
[Tanner - You are a surprisingly good writer! You totally found the Wrestler's "voice". Well done. - Mr. Fladd]
Sean F.
Social Studies 8-3
Slave on Slave Ship (Male)
We were forced onto the white man’s big canoe today. I was chained down onto the second level of a large shelf. People were screaming from all directions as the ship started to move. I just lay there quietly, wondering if there any others from the Mandinka tribe were captured.
Today we all received food from the white men. It tasted disgusting but at least it was food. I threw up from the taste. After the meal I could recognize some voices talking through the screams that were in my language. One of the voices belonged to Kunta Kinte, a man who I returned from manhood training with. He was speaking to another familiar voice, The Wrestler who had taught us how to fight. They asked who could speak the Mandinka language and I called out to them. They told me to teach the man next to me how to speak the way I do so that we could work together and fight back against the white men.
Lying down on this shelf under the ship was very unpleasant. I started to hurt all over my back. The smell was disgusting too. It smelt like human waste and sweat all throughout the room. To make it even worse the man above me had his waste coming through the top boards. Somebody died near me and was tossed overboard. I hate this trip.
A few days later we were unchained and rushed to the top deck of the ship. My back was sore and felt as if it was rubbed down to the bone. The other men had purple bruises all down there backs. We were gathered together and waited. I looked around and saw no land, no riverbank only water. Then they through buckets of seawater onto us all to clean us off. The water burned my skin and made me scream. They had us start dancing to get the little exercise that we could to stay healthy.
Then we went below deck, it still had a disgusting aroma but was cleaner than it was. I bet that they used the water that made my skin hurt to clean. I was whipped to get back onto my shelf, reluctantly I lay back down. I wonder how much longer I will be here on the boat and if I will ever see my family again.
[There's not much to say about this essay. You really nailed it. You did a good job of putting yourself in this poor man's place. Well done. - Mr. Fladd]
Jack R.
8-3
Sailor on Slave Ship
“Derrick, go get the first load of slaves!” Mr. Slater shouted at me. I reluctantly got out of my bunk and walked full of dread towards the slave hold. I walked down there and immediately was hit by the putrid stench of all the slaves. The moaning and groaning was almost even worse then he stench. These things in the hold were not even human; they were animals. I hated them even more than I hated Mr. Slater. I roughly unlocked their shackles and dragged them to the floor.
“Lets go! You maggots! Outside now! You need some exercise!” I shouted at them. “Out! Now! Up! Go!” They didn’t even move; I hit them until they got the message.
Finally when we got outside, we marched them over to the rinsing area. As we doused them with seawater, they screamed in agony; I laughed. I was hauling the buckets of seawater, but the aching in my arms was hardly felt, because I was ecstatic about the pain of the slaves.
Then the animals started to chant in that strange language of theirs. Just the sound of it creeped me out, it filled me with dread.
I looked over at the captain and I heard him say to Mr. Slater, who was smiling broadly. I heard “We might not understand them, Mr. Slater, but we know that they’re saying, ‘We will kill the white man’”. I just stared at him in horror, not fully understanding what he said. I knew I had to watch my back from now on whenever I went down into the slave hold.
That night, I couldn’t sleep; after I finished my dinner, I snuck a knife into the folds of my bunk to defend myself with, just in case. Also, I went and got the key to the slave’s chains. And every creak of the ship freaked me out, thinking that it was a slave coming to kill me, and take revenge on the white man.
[Jack - You've done a good job of putting yourself in this guy's place. You also used some pretty impressive vocabulary words. Well done. - Mr. Fladd]
Elizabeth R.
8-3
a girl slave on the slave ship
Man it stinks in here mostly like sweat, feces, urine, and blood.
I wonder if I would get whipped like that? Will they feed us a good meal? Will they kill us? Will they take advantage of me? Man this is like hell on earth. People keep screaming and crying, it gives me a headache.The sores on my back hurt from lying on the hard wooden bed. My sores are starting to get infected.
The white men came down to get us during the daytime to bring us up onto the top floor. I don’t no why. Mabey to get some fresh air, to whip us some more, or mabey to tell us to work.
When we got up there they told us to group up then they spalshed salt water onto our backs and it stung soooo bad it infuriated me. Then they told us to dance. What do they think we are, livestock? Man IK can’t wait ’till I am of of this huge conoe. Once we’re off, our men will kill the white men then we’ll be free!
[This is a pretty good first blog post, Elizabeth. Next time, please pay a little more attention to your spelling - it's harder for your readers to follow you if there are a lot of spelling errors. - Mr. Fladd]
Garrison B.
8-1
Brima Cesay
I have been a manhood trainer for longer than you boys have been alive, I am very experienced in what I do here and we need to have respect within us. My name is Brima Cesay. You yet to be men have come from your village and when you leave this manhood training you will go back to your village. You will be the new men of your tribes and if you choose not you will be forgotten within your friend beside you today. I as a young boy I went through this training and I feel, I served my tribe great and I will pass down everything I know and everything a I do you must then do. On thing you must know is to not be taken the white man and if you do know you have let your tribe down. One way to prevent this is never go into the forest or woods and or high grass alone. If you see monkeys acting unmoral this is a bad spot, trust you fellow monkeys and leave. This manhood training is the hardest thing you have ever done and will ever do what you will take from this is heart, perseverance and knowledge, when you leave hear remember you are a man and I have had many boys come into this training and become the man he or his family wants but I have never have had a man become a boy. Once you have become a man you must always remember what you have to do to protect and teach you village people. You will move away from your mothers out of your fathers hut and live amongst yourself. Please men when you leave here please make shore you don’t forget this time you have spent and you will never forget what a man you are.
I have seen a boy in this last group and I see greatness from him and he is Mr. Kunta Kinte.
[I like how you see him looking at his duty to the boys and how that relates to his duties to the village. Well done. - Mr. Fladd]
Lacey I.
8-3 Social Studies
Binta- Kunta Kinte’s mother seeing him back from manhood training.
My dear son, I am so proud of you. You finally made it through manhood training, still standing strong and even more intelligent. When you were gone, I had missed you like crazy, feeling empty without you by my side to help me with the family. It’s been a long journey with you from being raised, off to manhood training, and not knowing what you would be doing and where you would be going.
Kunta, you bring great honor to our family. Your brother, Lamine, is very proud of you. He missed you every day while you were gone. You were always there to play with him and teach him ne things about the goats. He is very sad knowing that you will not be able to play with him any longer and knowing that you have become a man you will no longer be here for him. It is time for him to take more responsibility for things in the home. He always asked where you were and what you were doing, and I know that one day, when it’s time, he will go through manhood training as well, and become just like you. You are his role model and he always looks up to you. He will have someone to look up to in becoming a man. You are a warrior and have great skills that you have processed throughout man hood training.
You have made a huge impact on the family, and now you’re leaving again, no longer being with us, off on your own, to your own hut. Once I saw you walking like a man, I got tears in my eyes, seeing you grow so strong. I think that you will be a great hunter and an outstanding provider when you have a family of your own.
My son, you will always be in my heart dearly. My wish is that you have a healthy and happy life. You will always be in my heart, and I will never forget you. I will always love you no matter what life brings. Congratulations Kunta, I am proud of you.
[Good job. I think you nailed this. - Mr. Fladd]
Ashley P
8-2
Slave in slave pen on the beach
“No, stupid white man, bring me back to my village!” I yell. It is useless; he does not understand my tongue. Where are the warriors? They must be looking for me right? They wouldn’t just let these white men take me away, would they? I hold on to the bars of the cage as the smooth sand warms my feet. My emotions swell again as I think of my mother and father. I just can’t take it. I let out another plea for help. “Help me, please! Let me go!” The white men throw another girl from my village into the already cramped cage. She looks at me once and starts crying. She must realize what is happening now. We will be taken on board that giant canoe house. We will be used as slaves. We will never see our families again.
“How many others are from our village?” She cries. “Is my child safe?”
“I don’t know,” I reply sliding down to sit on the beach. “I don’t know.”
I look around at all of the terrified faces and I can help but imagine the weeks ahead. What can I do to escape? I do not want to die. I press my face against the bars. “Let me see my family again or I will kill you!” The white men just mutter something in their language and stare. A few minutes later they laugh. Suddenly my sadness turned to anger. “How would you like it if I came and put you in a cage?” I shout.
“I’m going to take you away from your families forever and whip you until you look like a tiger’s scratching post.”
“Shh,” The older girl grabs my shoulder. “Do not yell at them, you will only make them crueler. Trust me, I want to hurt them as much as you do, but they are stronger. They are the ones with the stronger and more painful weapons.” She moves her arm off of my shoulder and sits with her head on her knees. She cries lightly again. I know how she feels. I never thought that a white man would ever take me. Looking at her crying just made my cry, and once more, as we were put on board of the canoe house, my rage turned to sadness. I now have no freedom or rights, and I have no choice. I’m a slave.
[This is sad and angry and beautiful. Well done. - Mr. Fladd]
Tyler C.
8-2
November 18,2011
Writing as Kunta Kinte’s mother (new Mother)
The day was calm and beautiful. Heat was not overwhelming. The air was a little cooler than normal making the village want to rest. About mid day my life changed, because the sun has only come up not to long ago. Stuff in a small hut yelling in pain giving birth to my first childed. Sweating heat raised like a volcano out of my head, the hut began to feel stuffy. At a sound of a cry my pain has stopped. Each breath getting softer and softer I calmed down. As I glanced down below my chest I found the woman helping me holding a little boy. The world came to a halt as I saw his beautiful eyes shinning. Crying up a storm he looked as a soon to be strong man. The relief was felt that it had been done and a baby boy came upon my arms. My husband rushed in. Breathing buckets the first sight of his newborn made him smile with tears. We looked at each other sharing thoughts through our eyes, and looked back to the glistening boy. Omoro and I could not stop watching the baby boy as squirmed in my arms. Reaching for something in the air with his small pudgy hands and little arms he made life seem too short. The new responsibilities that came with the little one put a happy burden on Omoro and I. Food, care, love, water, air. Sweetly said baby boy grew weak from screaming and fell in silence. His small pudgy hands caught whatever he was reaching for, he quietly fell asleep. Holding him still I could not imagine such a surreal moment in my life. Omoro glanced in my direction, eyes wide, slow and smoothly he reached for the little one and cradled him. Life for this baby boy I will make it perfect. This little one is a special in every way.
[Sometimes it's hard for a boy to write from the point of view of a woman. You did a very good job with this. Well done. - Mr. Fladd]
Chance S
8-2
African Slaver
The white men who came across the ocean asked me to help capture other villagers and bring them back to the big boats. We worked together and brought back many slaves the first day, but didn’t have so much luck the next day.
We heard about a village near where we were “hunting”, so we set a trap. We would hide in the tall grass waiting for anybody who was dumb enough to leave the safety of the village. Sure enough, a younger villager wandered out into the jungle. We chased him out of the jungle and into a clearing near the others in our group.
They jumped at him and the four of us circled around him. But he took the dagger of one my teammates and stabbed him. We knocked him around a little and threw a rope around his neck. And, for some reason, he just broke down and was screaming like we were slowly killing him.
We dragged him back to the beach and presented him to the sailor who called himself Slater. We threw him into the cage with the rest of the prisoners.
The boat was almost full when they were ready to leave, and the traitors threw us in like animals and chained us to wooden boards stacked like a shelf with all the other disgusting captives. It was awful.
The big boat was rocking, making everybody spit up whatever they had in their stomachs. The boat just kept rocking side to side. Seeing what the white men were doing to the prisoners makes me regret ever working for them…
[Well done. You did a good job of imagining what would have been involved in setting the trap for Kunta Kinte. - Mr. Fladd]
Claire N
8-2
The Kitango
A line of boys in yellow hoods approached me. Note that I say boys. The males here are still young. That is why they have come to me. Through physical and mental tests, I will turn these adolescent boys into men.
“Hoods off!” I commanded, and once the boy’s faces were reviled I carefully read their emotions. Fear and caution were of course the most prominent, but there was something else, curiosity maybe?
I decided it was time to explain to them why they were here, and so, I started my usual speech.
“I am the Kintango, Kin-tan-go!” I began. “As children must be careful not to anger their fathers, you will be careful not to anger the Kintango.” The boy’s faces were now bewildered! Well, it was time they learned discipline. “As dry grass does not challenge fire, you will never challenge the Kintango.”
“You will do everything I tell you to do; you will do it when I tell you to and for as long as I tell you to do it!” “I am the Kintango!”
I took a few steps forward until I was face to face with a few of the boys.
“Boys left your very village, men are to return.” “You must erase your fears.”
As I continued to lecture the boys on “becoming men” I watched the fear on their faces turn to eagerness. I noticed on boy in particular, Kunta Kinte was quite intent on proving himself. When questions were asked Kunta was the first to answer. In fact, Kunta Kinte was also the first to volunteer to fight the wrestler.
*****
“The ability to wrestle with skill is the ability to uphold honor with you village.” I said to a circle of crouching boys. “It is a test of strength, and the stronger you are, the more honor to your people.” I told the boys how I had learned to shoot an arrow by watching and how I had learned to fight by hearing the warriors talk. They listened in awe, curious of what was to come.
“There is only one way to learn how to wrestle, and that is to do it.”
“Who will be first?” I half expected Kunta to leap from his sitting position, but there was a long pause before anyone even flinched. Then, as I predicted, Kunta rose.
His fighting skills were not one to be admired. He was much too predictable. The wrestler foresaw his each and every move, and had no trouble countering it.
But still, a part of me noticed that the wrestler was almost hopeful that he would be thwarted, as if, like a father, he wanted Kunta Kinte to win.
*****
“Kunta Kinte, it is your task, to leave this camp and catch this bird.” I wondered if he would have the patience to do so. “Do not kill the bird, mind you, but catch it.”
Kunta Kinte and the rest of the boys were so close to becoming men. I could hardly believe it myself. However I knew I had to keep in mind that the final test would be the hardest one of them all.
Kunta returned sooner than I expected. He came to the camp panting, drenched in sweat and empty handed.
I pushed through the huddle of wrestling boys until I reached Kunta.
“Kunta Kinte,” I started. “Are you to be a child forever?” I was disappointed. This young one had shown promise! “Did you forget your task?” I questioned, “Did you forget the instructions given to you?”
“I did not forget.” He answered, still panting.
“So did you think it would be better to disobey those instructions and, “
“I saw white men.” He interrupted me.
White men? It couldn’t be. He must have made a mistake.
“What did you say?” I asked forcing him to repeat himself, as if asking again would generate a different answer.
It did nothing of the sort. His answer remained the same.
I gathered the boys into a circle. It was time for a talk. As I looked around at the boys who now felt like sons to me, I was filled with worry. How was I to express the importance of my words to them? They simply must know that not following my orders could result in a life of pain, sorrow and maybe even death.
What they needed to know was how to protect themselves from the white men.
The camp was on high alert, but that mustn’t stop our training. After all we were down to the last test of strength. It was the most crucial but also the most painful. However once it was over with the boys would be stronger.
They would be bounded to each other forever, brothers by blood.
[Truly excellent. Did you watch this again on YouTube to get the dialog right? Normally, I don't want students to write a step-by-step summary of the events in the story, but you did a really good job of incorporating emotion into each step, so this really works well. Congratulations on a very good blog post. - Mr. Fladd]
Will C
8-2
Old man from the village
I heard Omoro’s wife just had a baby. All this village needs is another kid. A few years later I saw the little kid running around a tree, when his parents called him in. It sounded harsh. It reminded me of when I was a kid, and I played outside and was happy.
I heard some growling on my way to my favorite fishing spot. I ran as fast as I could, (I didn’t know the leopard wasn’t chasing me) turned around and saw Omoro’s young boy beat the tar out of that leopard that was eating his poor goat with just a slingshot. What was his name? Ah, Kunte Kinte! I cheered for him, but when he chased it away I ran away too, because I didn’t want the leopard to start chasing me instead.
When I got home and changed, I saw Kunte Kinte with a dead goat fur in his hand. I was wondering why he would’ve killed his own goat when I remembered that the leopard killed it. I have an old rusty brain. His father seemed angry and disappointed at him. He must’ve been that way because Kunte Kinte had been protecting that special goat for a while now, and had failed. Omoro should’ve thought about the fact that Kunte Kinte fended the leopard off with just a slingshot!
I saw Kunte Kinte again today. His mom was telling him how much she loves him, and then BAM! His father puts a bag on his head and carries him over to manhood training. I remember when I went to manhood training. It was scary for a moment, but then I enjoyed myself because some of the drills had to do with stuff I like doing, like hunting and running.
I was in the woods hunting for birds when I saw Kunte Kinte at manhood training. I watched him raise his hand to wrestle a big brawny man. He wiggled this way and that, but the strong man picked him up and put him down. He kept trying, but to no avail. I ran away after he fell from exhaustion. When I had to wrestle someone, I remember he kept knocking me down, and that made me frustrated and angry.
I had run out of food, so I was searching for some when I saw Kunte Kinte. He had to catch a special bird to progress into manhood camp. I had nothing to do, so I followed him. He was running through streams, fields, and forests to catch that bird! He even ran through someone’s house and ruined their food, only to be grabbed by another brawny man. He carried Kunte Kinte to the food he destroyed and told him to fix it for his daughter, who was right there. Kunte Kinte fixed it and ran off. That must’ve been very annoying, having to stop in the middle of a task and do something else. He was lucky he didn’t lose the bird! I couldn’t keep up with all this bird hunting, so I took a break. By chance so did Kunte Kinte. A white man had stopped right next to us and took out his fire stick. I stood there, as motionless as a tree. The white man readied his fire stick and… shot at the bird, but missed. Phew! I thought our goose was cooked! Kunte Kinte ran away to alert the manhood camp. This will not end well. The white men scare everyone and bring destruction wherever they go.
When I finally got back, I rested then went back to manhood camp to watch Kunte Kinte. I saw all the boys be initiated to men. It made me feel proud of the young boys turning into strong men.
I went back to the village. I saw Kunte Kinte get his new house, only to be hounded by his grandmother to make a drum. That woman really gets on my nerves. She has a very outgoing personality though. He ran out of village to make one.
I was wondering where Kunte Kinte had gone, because I hadn’t seen him in a while. Omoro called me over and told me I was with the search for him. While we were searching someone found his belongings on the ground. He was such a good boy, I wish I had actually talked to him or at least told him my name. I remember when I had seen him as a baby. I had thought he was so cute, rolling around and giggling. I remember when he saved me from that leopard with only a slingshot. I remember how brave he was at manhood camp, he wouldn’t be stopped. He was unstoppable when he saw the white man too. Why did they get him! Why not me instead!!!
[Wow! I really like your journey through time with this man. You did a great job of looking at the growth and change of a young boy from the point of view of someone who has seen a lot. Well done. - Mr. Fladd]
Isabel T
block 8-2
Village girl (seeing the boys come back from man hood training)
As everyone awaits for the new men to arrive, I feel excitement over come me. I once knew theses men as young boys,but now there all grown up. There I see them,as they come out of the woods I noticed that kunta kinta was in the front. There was joy in the air as all of the men fallow behind and reached the village. When they reach the village I see all there faces up close. They look strong like real men. As they settle in I go and congratulate Kunta Kinta on his new manhood. But as I walk over I saw him gather his stuff and go to his new home,so I then walked away.
Me and kunta kinta were really close almost like a brother. But now as he is now a man, I feel as if we will be distant from one another. As I think about all the fun times we have had I feel a little sad because I think now that he has grown up he will have different responsibilities. I walk over to the new men and congratulate them but for some reason I still never did congratulate kunta kinta. I think I didn’t because I knew it wasn’t ever going to be the same. I could hear all the new men talking to there mothers and fathers and saying “you are now men” and I could just wonder what that made them feel like. When I look around all see are brave faces, strong faces and strong new men. And to me that made me feel joy and excitement knowing that the new men are great men.
[Isabelle - this is a strong first blog post. Next time, be a little more careful about your spelling and grammar, but overall, I think you got what you were supposed to do here. - Mr. Fladd]
Alec Graykin
8-2
The village leader
The white man is wrong to think that he can simply come in and take our people. He takes our people, giving nothing back in return. We never see them again. He takes good men that lead good lives and assumes that he is entitled to them for reasons that no man or woman will ever understand. We are a good people, but the white man seems to think that we are simply animals, free for them to take. We are less animals then they. Allah only knows where the poor men and women that are captured go, but wherever they are taken on the white man’s canoe house, they aren’t treated well. Every man to see the white man capturing our people and come back alive has told tails of whips and chains. Sorry tales of being marched long distances without rest. Then they are kept in cages before they eventually get brought over to the canoe house and are never heard from again. Now no man or woman can feel safe if they are by themselves. We live constantly in fear of the white man, constantly wondering who will be taken next. As a good villager and the village leader, I not only have to worry about myself, but also about my wife, my children and my entire village, as should all good village men. We all must work to educate all people on how to avoid the white man, or it will be the end of our village and our lives as we know it.
(Sorry for not being very good, I had a very hard time writing this, I’m not sure why. I wanted to note this, please cut this section before approving my comment. Thanks.)
[I disagree; I think this is pretty good. I like the way you - respectfully - made reference to Allah and how you had Brima Cese feeling resentful of the white men's encroachment on his power. It's always hard to see someone else's point of view. I think this is a strong start. - Mr. Fladd]
Megan Mc.
8-3 Social Studies
Boy from manhood training.
I didn’t see it coming, one day I was just feeding the goats, then darkness. I thought all the lights went out. They walked us down to the training, the walk felt like forever. I kept wanting to resist. My heart was pounding the whole time. ‘At least I will become a man’ I thought to myself.
Manhood training wasn’t fun. They would force you to do everything! They made us wrestle some guy, catch an animal without a weapon, they expected us to do everything. My family back home would never believe the changes I am going through. They won’t recognize me. They will never remember that boy, because I just know I am going home a man. I will go home with my brothers. We will share something, something that nobody would understand.
The time has come to finally come home. I am a man! Nobody will see me as a kid anymore. I finally get to live on my own, marry, and do anything that I couldn’t before. As we were walking down to see our families, I was acting like a kid inside. But that is not manly, so I just bottled it up and looked calm. When my family came to hug me and greet me, I still did not show much emotion. I was ready to start my new life as a man, so I just wanted to see my new home. ‘My new home,” I thought to myself. ‘I can get used to saying that.”
[I like the line, "My family back home would never believe the changes I'm going through". I think that's true. Good job. - Mr. Fladd]
Justin M
8-1
Captain Davies(on the way back to America)
Today one of them died i was suppose to keep as many of them alive as i could, but this is exactly what Mr. Slater warned me about “your going to lose some of your cargo, captain” it believe is what he said. They carried him throu the buk pid, up to the port bow and threw it over board, no use for dead wait i guess. Me and the crew were taling about getting the slaves out of the hole and getting them some fresh air, Mr. Slader was agreeing so i will as well, he is the expert when it comes to slaves after all.
Today we did as earlier planned, we took several groups of slaves out of the hole one at a time of course, the first group seemed to make the most noise. Durring the showers they seemed to make the most noise, perhaps thesea water is somehow related to there noise making. When the exercise was taking place they kept making some kind of attemt to talk but it wasent right sounding, Mr. Slader said he fully understood them, if he says so. We just finnished up the last batch theese ones seemed overly exited to be seeing light for the first time in weeks, i will never understand them. I was just writing in my memory book when Mr. Slader came into my cabin… but he wasent alone he had brought a female slave. He suggested that i have my way with her, but i am a man of god i believe not in fornification. The fear in this creatures eyes makes me think all of this is not right, i fear Mr. Slader might be lieng and all of this is not good for them. Captain Davies signing off, for now.
Captain Davies Log
5/21/1767
[I REALLY like the "Captain's Log" entry at the end. This is a good trip into the Captain's head. Be a little more careful about your spelling and grammar next time, but otherwise, this is excellent. - Mr. Fladd]
FALLYN B.
8-1
KUNTA KINTE
Life in the village was going good after coming back from manhood training and getting my own hut.
One day I went out in the bush to find things to make a drum for my little brother. Before I knew it I was surrounded and attacked by a white man and black men traders. I stabbed one of the black men but two of the other men ran up to me and put ice cold cuffs on my wrists. I tried to fight back but I was too tired and weak.
They brought me to the beach where there were cages filled with people from my tribe and other tribes. I was thrown into one of the cages. Others in the cage helped me off the sandy floor. More people were being thrown in and I recognized one as being Fanta.
I looked at the cage across from mine and saw the man who taught me how to wrestle at manhood training. I told him that I was going to get a boat and go up the river bank. As we were talking some men came over and took everyone out of the cages and loaded us onto this large wooded thing. I was scared about what they were going to do with us. They laid us down on rock hard boards that made our backs bleed and put cuffs on our ankles and wrists. The wooded thing started rocking around so bad that it made my stomach come up.
After a while a white man came down and unhooked everyone and pushed us up the stairs to where we could see the sun. They started playing music and made us jump around. Once that was over we were brought back down stairs and hooked back up and fed some white mushy stuff. The wrestler man I knew told me to eat the white man’s food but I couldn’t because it would make my stomach come up again. He told me to eat so that I could keep my strength as I’m a Mandika Warrior.
Later, a man laying next to me didn’t sound so good. He eventually closed his eyes and stopped breathing. He had died right next to me and all I could think of is that I was going to be the next one to go. The wrestler spoke up again calling my name. He wanted to fight the white men but the problem was none of us could speak the same. He started yelling out to others asking who was from the Mandika tribe. He said all who speak Mandika turn to the man next to you and teach him your words. In return they will teach you their words. Together we will be brothers and fight the white man.
At that moment I knew there was hope for us.
[Fallyn: This is a very good summary of what happened in the episode. What I REALLY want to know is how Kunta Kinte is feeling. What is he thinking? - Mr. Fladd]
Justin D
8-1
Kunta Kinte’s best friend
I can’t believe it. I have just received the information from terrified villagers that there are white people here and they are coming for us! I was walking around processing this information in disbelief when I saw Binda crying on her knees. I thought, oh no something must have happened to Kunta! And sure enough he had just recently went missing while he was searching for the perfect log to make a drum with. Kunta has been captured.
I feel helpless, the last time I saw Kunta was back by the goats when he was asking me questions and I was telling him about the upcoming manhood training, and the rite of circumcision.
The white people’s boat must be loaded with our people. If I was in the situation of being imprisoned by the white men I would probably think there was no way out and give up all hope. Kunta Kinte on the other hand, I think would handle this situation better than anyone else. After all, he is a Mandinka Warrior. I am sure he will find a way to team up with the other captured tribes and fight their way thru the white men. I know this because he was brave enough to scare off a leopard with a sling shot, I’m sure he’ll be brave enough and will find a way to defeat the white men who captured him.
[You did a good job of empathizing with this boy. Well done. - Mr. Fladd]
Samara R.
8-1
Mister Slater
The job was easy…till Captain Davies came along. He don’t know a thing about hauling theses slaves. Usually any other captain would know you gotta keep these blacks under lock and key. Cause’ if you give em’ the chance they will take over.
When I was showing Captain Davies the tools for the blacks, he just looked at me like I was out of my mind. He didn’t seem to know a thing bout them chains and thumb screws. I just told him it was for their own good for them to know their own place. He kinda like you know oblivious to these things. He will ask all sorts of obvious questions like “How do they speak?” usually I will try to make it simple for him to understand like I’ll say “They don’t speak like our language Captain, they speak in like weird religious chants you know?” Usually my last Captain would be all for this like every other Captain I know. But this Davies he like a strong religious man and stuff. Sometimes I feel like he don’t follow like the rest of us folks when it comes to making good money on these slaves.
After we showed up at the islands to load up the merchandise, Mr. Gardender kept asking how many we gonna need. I had to keep answering for Captain Davies when he gave the look when he didn’t know how to answer. I am getting the bad feeling that he don’t approve of our work.
While on the way back to our port, the Captain started losing it. He got real attached to his cabin lately. He even got real cranky everytime I brought up the procedures to keep the slaves in shape in order to get good prices on them. When I exercised the slaves Mr. Davies tried to look away the whole time. He didn’t seem to like the idea but when I saw the look in his eyes, I saw the fear and the confusion. I didn’t know how to make him feel better. So I brought him up a black gal for the night, it good exercise for her and a good thing for him. He didn’t quite tell me what happened but I suppose it was well.
Captain Davies in my opinion is not in fit for this position. I do hope he gets real firm on this cause I cant be having him ruin my sale for my personal life here.
[Wow. You really crawled around inside Slater's head. I like the way you were able to see the world from the point of view of someone you don't like. Well done. - Mr. Fladd]
Jordan M.
8-1
Fanta (after being captured)
It brings me pain to look back on it now. I saw a human behind me, but he was different. He had white skin and his sweat smelled of wet chicken. I assumed I was day dreaming it was pretty hot outside I knew such a creature could never exist. As I hurried along I turned around and stopped and I saw his face, his eyes moving closer and closer to me. That is the moment I realized he was so real, I have never seen anything so differently real. And in that moment I felt danger and adrenaline constructing, building up inside of me and I ran.
It was not long after my encounter with the white man I realized I have been captured and became a slave. I was put in a big cage looking thing along with tons of others from all different tribes. When I was captured I could hear my father yelling my name out “Fanta!” I knew that it was not the yell of “I will rescue you it will be okay” it was the yell of death. My father had died and I had been captured, but what for? Why me of all people? What kind of world do I live in? I had so many questions that I knew would never be answered. Somehow in the back of my mind I knew this was the last time I would ever see my home again. As I was loaded onto the ship I was looking as far back onto the land that I could see, I wanted to see my home one last time.
That was not the worst part though. The bad part was that on the ship I was not treated as a human being, I was treated like a chicken locked up in a chicken coop; I was livestock, nothing more than cargo on a ship. I meant nothing to anybody. I was soon going to be owned by a white man. I was a slave. Every night I prayed in hope that not only me but everyone would be rescued off that ship. It was the worst place in the world, I have not even seen the whole world and I still knew it was true. Think of the worst place you could think of and times it by 10.
The white man’s food was repulsive, it was the most disgusting food I have ever eaten, it was even worse than the powdery sand I swallowed when I was being captured. Every time I ate it, it came back up from my stomach. I could have eaten a bomb and it would have been better than that white man’s food (either one would’ve come up anyway).
Never in my life have I been treated this badly. I was chained down to a sharp wooden board and with every move I made I knew it meant another scar on my body. I could feel it splintering its way through the layers of my skin. My muscles ached, my stomach churned, I could feel the blazing hotness from my stomach acid. My tongue felt dry. My lungs felt as if someone had driven a stake into my chest and twisted it with all mighty power, and it was getting harder and harder to breathe. With every breathe I took of that sharp, bitter air also came a cough, and then a sneeze, I could feel the nostrils of my nose burning and sizzling with every inhale of it. My body was useless.
I could not bear much more of this torture. My ankles had been bruised very badly. While everyone else had been squirming around and trying to break free I did not. I did not feel the need to break free from something that could not be broken. I did not feel the need of hurting myself even more. Enough damage had been done to me and I knew it would only get worse as the days passed by; there was no need of pacing up the process.
With all of that said the ONLY bright side of this is that I knew if someday I had children I would have a magnificent story to tell them, a story they could learn from. This is a story of great struggle and opportunity to feel true sadness. But then again the thought of even having children in a place that I do not belong only made me hate this even more. This is the most hate I have ever felt in my entire life and what caused the hate is that I knew it was never going to end. I had seen almost everyone I knew die in my presence. Everyone that I had ever cared about was slowly getting the life sucked out of them. The life was slowly getting sucked out of me too.
[Your last sentence is heart-breaking. Well done. Also, I think that from now on, when I'm describing something that doesn't taste good, I'll say that it's "worse than powdery sand". Blech! - Mr. Fladd]
Megan. M
8-1
Mr. Gardner
Today I caught a couple of slaves. Of course with the help of the helper slaves. I can’t stand hearing them whine and call for their mother land. You think that they would learn that they aren’t going back to their tribes. None of their people will ever find them where the ship is taking them.
It has been two days of catching slaves now. I’m thinking about buying a couple, maybe selling them after. They would do me some good. Once they are brought to the new land, hopefully every slave will be sold.
It is the day before the slaves board the boat. I go on one more catching. We are all hiding, when we see a black man. Trying to find a log for something, so wonder they even know what a log is. Those creatures are horrendous. We chase this one for a mile or so when we have him surrounded. We chain him and he screams. No one can here him out here. After I caught the slaves, I threw them in the cage with the rest of them.
Today they are loading the slaves onto the ship. As I watch them go in, I think to myself which slaves would be best for me. Do I even want some? All I have to say to Captain Davies and the rest of the people on the ship, is good luck with the slaves.
[You've captured his contempt perfectly. - Mr. Fladd]
Tyler M.
November 20, 2011
8-1
slave girl from captain davies cabin
I was walking around the village when the white men ran in with shooting sticks and big knives. They chased all the villagers and put chains around all of our wrists and ankles. It wasn’t only white men who did this. There were many black men who were helping them. We were brought onto giant canoe houses and before I knew it, I couldn’t see the river banks. On the ship, the white men whipped at my feet until I danced. When we were in the main part of the canoe house, other men and women were throwing up everywhere, even on each other. One man died on the ship. The white men just threw his body off the ship. One day, one very mean and very creepy white man came down to all of us and took me away. He brought me to the leader’s room and they kept talking to each other in a language that I didn’t understand. Then, the creepy man left me alone with the leader. He seemed very nice, though I couldn’t understand him. He left me alone unlike the other white men on the ship. When I got back down with all the other black people, I found out about a new fighting tribe that a wrestler was forming. This tribe was meant to over throw the black and white men who kidnapped us all. He was having us all learn each other’s languages so that we could understand each other in this new tribe.
[You probably got the toughest writing assignment in this entire episode. Thank you for tackling it. Do you really think the Captain left her alone? Or was that a good way to get out of writing a REALLY uncomfortable story? (I think I'd cop out and do that, too, if I'd been assigned this. I'm just curious about what you think.) - Mr. Fladd]
Justin. T
8-1
slave on ship
I was hunting for my family when all of a sudden three black men come out from behind bushes and trees with whips and ropes. I then started to run with my bow and arrows, by the time my hand was on an arrow the ropes were already around my hands. They then dragged me to the beach and threw me into a cage with many others.
Shorty after they loaded all of us into a dark repulsive room and chained us onto tables. The nights were sleepless the smell of urine and vomit lingered in the air.
The poor young man next to me was muttering “Allah the mercyful, Allah the all powerful Allah the compasionate please hear my prayers”. The mandinkan didnt understand that if Allah was there this wouldnt be happening, he didnt understand that if Allah was there white men wouldnt exist.
Somthing must have heard the boy or maybe some white men may have morals because they untied us and lead us out of the ruthless hole. The sun was piercing, but the white men made us jump for entertainment. The ice cold water seeped into the soars on my back I clenched my teeth and listened to what the white men said.
As they returned us into the hole I felt lightheaded. My eyes felt heavy, My eyes closed never to open again.
[You've got some interesting writing here. I like the twist at the end. I'd like to read more about what your guy felt and thought, though. What was going on in his head? - Mr. Fladd]
mandus B
8-1
I am Captain Davies, I run a slave ship. I don’t know how I feel about slaves. I am confused. I not liking my job right now but I don’t have a choice. My job is to drive the boat and tell people what to do. I have to make sure that the slaves exercise so that they are worth more money. When the slaves are exercising my workers have to go down to where the slave are stored and clean it up so it doesn’t get to bad down there. For the slaves exercise the workers play music and the slaves have to dance. When the slaves are dancing the workers get buckets of water and splash the slaves with salt water from the ocean and the slaves have cuts on their backs from the shelves rubbing their skin off so it burns them really bad. I don’t actually catch the slaves but my people catch them and then bring them to my ship to load them. The slaves are treated very bad and I don’t like the way that they are treated because I think that they are people too. I don’t like a lot of things that my workers do like r*** girl slaves. There are over one hundred slaves packed in on shelves stacked three rows high. They are chained to the shelves so they can’t kill my people. I don’t think that it’s right. Their skin gets rubbed off by the shelves and some of the slaves die on the way back so we throw the dead ones over the railing of the ship into the ocean. My workers crush the slaves thumbs if they are bad. We feed the slaves really gross food that I wouldn’t eat. My workers and I get to eat good food. I’m still trying to be a good christian so I’m not proud of myself at all because a good christian wouldn’t catch people and sell them or r*** them. So I try and not think about it that much. I feel bad for the saves because they are cooped up on shelves and they cant walk around and they are yelled at sometimes they have to eat really gross foods that wouldn’t even eat. And it smells really bad down there because they can’t use a bathroom when they want and they throw up on each other. I don’t think that people should be treated like this because I wouldn’t want to be treated like this at all.
[I think you've captured his emotions pretty well here. - Mr. Fladd]
Meghan H.
8-1
A slave loading a ship that is going back to Africa to pick up more slaves
Today was a difficult day, I had to load a slave ship going back to Africa. I remember the day I got taken away from my family. I was in the woods hunting and all of a sudden a white man came up behind me grabbed me and threw me on the ground and put chains on my wrist. That was the last day I ever saw my family again, my life as I knew it was over. The ship was the worst place to be, everyone was sea sick and there was no were to go the bathroom. Also from lying on the wooden beds my skin started to peel and soon I had no skin, my back was raw and hurt like you couldn’t imagine.
The worst thing that they could possible do to us was when we had to exercise they would throw the cold salty sea water on us so we were clean, but it would sting our peeled painful backs. So When I was loading the boat with all those chains and whips it just reminded me of that day and how terrible and unfair it was . I wish I could stop them from brining slaves back they don’t deserve what I went through no one should be treated that way. Some how I wish I could sneak on the boat and get to go home and try to save as many people as I could from being captured from the white men that will try to take us from are homes from were we belong.
I wish in the end, I were the white man so I wouldn’t have to go through this pain or to be able to be strong enough to save all the slaves.
[Your last sentence left me with a really odd feeling. I wonder what a slave in that situation really would wish for (aside from his freedom, of course). Well done. - Mr. Fladd]
Justin E.
8-1
Binta, After Her Son Has Been Captured
I my name in binta and I am the mother of kunta kinte, which is on a ship on its way to America. I am so depressed about kunta being captured with white people. I already had a search party go out to try to find him but they had no luck, they found were they captured him. Right now I am very emotional about this but I know that kunta will come back. If kunta ever comes back I will give him a hug and be very happy. I hope that kunta is very healthy and eating a lot to stay alive. My husband and I is very devastated about him getting captured by the white people, I hope he has people washes him and feeds him. Kunta’s grandmother told him to go make a drum for him little brother, when he came back from manhood training. I am trying to get threw all the pain of kunta leaving so is my husband and his grandmother. I remember when I was giving birth to kunta kinte, and when he went to manhood training and when he came back from manhood training than that was the last time I saw him. I hope that they are not hurting him and not making him bleed and keeping him clean. Kunta worked everyday with his farther to keep us live and keep us hydrated. I cant wait to see kunta again when and if he comes back. Those white men better not sell him because I want to see my baby again.
[This is a pretty good piece of writing. I really like that last line - "I want to see my baby again." Well done. - Mr. Fladd]
Jason E.
8-1
Member Of The Search Party Who Searched For Kunta Kinte
Hi im one of the people from the search party, there was aout 10 people in the search party counting me.We had to find kunta kinte, it wasnt easy to find him. we seach every where around the village and we finaly thought about leaving the village to look around. As we left the village we were hoping we were going to make it back alive. we finaly i found something, i told every one to stop, i showed his father he ran over i handed it home and he was crying. I could tell by the look on everyone face that they wanted to cry, even i wanted to but like everyone eles i held it my tears.
We had to find the village, by the time we got back everyone was really worried kunta kintes mother ran out and saw them, the father showed it to her. Right when she say it she was crying really hard. She graped the pouch from kuntas fathers hand. Im sure everyone in the village knew that he was taken and probly be on the boat half way there to the white land.
I think it was the wrose day for everyone that knew that kunta kinte was going to be slod and to be a sold. We were all woundering who eles would of got stolen by the white men. We also wanted to know how mwny white men were there and where did they kepp them, if they were ok or if they were being beatin or wipped.
[This is a VERY strong start. I'm happy to see this turned in on time and with so much thought put into it. - Mr. Fladd]
Frazer R.
8-1
Kuntas best friend
Me and Kunta were talking today, and as we talked Kunta got away from the sheep as we were talking he saw a sheep missing as he ran over noticing a large animal and and drew back his slingshot. I ran away in fear for him and me a feel cowardly, I feel like a bad friend.
Later that day I was walking back to my hut and then some one blinded me with a cloth waking me into the woods. I got attached to a chain of other people. They put us in a line, the blinds come off I see my other friends from our village as I seat there and the elder gives me wisdom I think to my self I’m becoming a man. Later in the day we had a wrestling teaching I was to scared too, but Kunta worked the courage and fought with all his might, the man he was wrestling through him around like nothing, as Kunta struggled he finally gave up.
As I go through the rest of the man hood training hearing there words seeing there actions I finally become a man. As I return to the village everyone respects me. Then my father gives me a hut life is sweet I can’t wait to enjoy the rest of my life as a man.
[This is a pretty good start. I'd like to read more about what your guy was thinking and feeling and why he felt that way. Please be more careful with your spelling and grammar, too. This is a little hard to read. - Mr. Fladd]
Octavia T
8-3
Sailor on slave ship
Everyone thinks the adventure begins when we finally get the slaves upon the ship but that isn’t so. The adventure begins when we leave port. Once a ship leaves port the man aboard are free men (besides the slaves). For the first few days it was nothing but man getting drunk and singing songs of the seas and loved ones back home, although that didn’t last long. Songs had been sung either to many times or just forgotten and not sung at all; and soon we realized if we kept drinking like we were, we wouldn’t have anymore rum for the voyage home. I didn’t get drunk in the first place I just watched the other man make fools of themselves and laughed.
I am smaller than most of the crews men, but I make up for it in strength and wits. Although I have never needed to show my strength, because no one has ever challenged me, I would like to think I could take on any of these fools in a second. Most of them brag and boast about how strong they are and how “when I was back home no one would ever mess with me” but in truth I think its just them showing off.
When the slaves come aboard I watch out for the woman trying to figure out which ones will make the cut, although I never take a woman most of the do. Instead I take the time to drink while there is some peace on deck. The men aren’t any use to us on the ship, they just laying there filth although they don’t realize it; they don’t even care. Their just like pigs rolling in their own filth. The stanch gets real bad within a week or so, so we bring them up on deck and watch them squirm as we through sea water at them to clean them off. At the same time we muck out their stalls so some of the stench will leave; I help with that, I also help with removing the dead. Once everything is cleaned up we put the slaves back in their chains and give them some food “the cattle has to eat”. After eating some of them through up which puts a new stench in the air.
Some of the other men take a woman back to their cabins to have their ways with them, but I turn to drinking instead. Drinking helps me forget the awful smell that rises from the black men and woman below. I hear them yelling in there weird languages but have no idea what they are saying so I ignore it and continue drinking .
I don’t hate nor love my job but it is natural and we are taking the blacks to better lives then they would have had back in Africa. The blacks should thank us for saving them, the filthy swine of men. They rarely make eye contact , but when they do it is a look that would send shivers down any mans spine, it is a look of death. Sometimes I think they think that their looks could actually kill and that’s the only reason they even look in our direction. Poor men they have no idea what good lives await them compared to the lives they had.
[Octavia - I'm pleased and annoyed at the same time. This is REALLY GOOD! I like how you write about all the sensory impressions that the sailor would experience. I like how you describe his emotions. So, if you could pound this out in 45 minutes after school, WHY COULDN'T YOU GET IT IN ON TIME!? Grrrr... - Mr. Fladd]
Krystal D
8-2
Kunta Kinte, After Being Captured
[Late]
I was just captured by the white men. I was out in the woods. I was alone, looking for a log to make a drum for my brother. Then they came out of nowhere! I tried to lose them. I was running for my life. Then I felt a pain on my back. It felt like I was getting stung by a bunch of bees. Then they had me surrounded. I took out my knife and went for one of them. But that was enough. They had caught me. I was now their prisoner.
They took me to a group. There were others of my kind. They had men, and women all chained together. They were whipping us at our feet and out backs. We kept going. I had been brought to a place where the white men had set up. They had put me in a cage with other people. I was waiting. I was hoping that my tribe would come for me. Or at least that’s what I was hoping for.
They were loading us on to a giant canoe house. They put us on racks. They chained us up on the planks. Then I had a strange feeling. Then that instant, my stomach came up, and all that was left was bitter spit. They held us captive like animals for days. The only company I had was wrestler and the few people next to me. Then the white men came down and unchained us. They brought us to the top of the canoe where they made us dance. Then as I looked for the river bank, there was no land. I was frightened at this sight. I was going to jump off and swim. Then before I could say anything they were splashing us with water. The water stung our wounds. The pain was almost unbearable. They made us dance. They whipped at us if we didn’t do as they did. We then started to chant. Then they made us go back down. While I was there, a man had died right next to me.
[Krystal - This is a good start, but I'd like about what Kunta Kinte is thinking and feeling. I don't need to know WHAT happened, so much; I'm looking for an internal monologue. - Mr. Fladd]
Christopher S.
8-3 S.S
I’m one of the sailors on Captain Davies’ slave ship. We were sent to Africa to transport slaves. While we were there, we met some guys that capture the slaves for money on the West coast of Africa. We’re bringing them back to America for money. Once we got back on the ship, we put all of the cargo(slaves) in the hold. In the hold there are bunks made of solid wood planks with chains attached to them. It’s dark like a dungeon. We lay them all down flat on their backs close together to pack more people into the space. It smells so bad.
Later, we brought some of them up to wash them off with some sea water. I have no idea what they’re saying. They’re probably happy to get out of there. They are blinded by the light. I listen to their screams of agonizing pain cause of the big open sores on their back when the salt water splashes on their back. We make them dance for some exercise. Another reason we bring them up to the top deck is that so we can clean the hold where they are kept. We give them one meal a day and look for some dead ones to throw overboard and let the sharks eat them.
All the sailors on the ship, including me, sing songs while we raise the sails or swab the deck. I’m looking forward to going home to get my share of the money and getting the job done.
[Chris - this is a PRETTY good first blog. It's very, VERY late, though. Please get your next one in on time. - Mr. Fladd]