TEACHING TEAM

Prof. Zoraida RISSO PATRN

Prof. Mara Anglica VERD
Prof. Leticia TACCONI
Prof. Paola Mabel SCILIPOTI
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Table of Contents
................................................................................................... 2
.......................................................................................... 3
SUMMARY WRITING GUIDELINES .................................................................................................................. 5

Graphic organisers for articles ......................................................................................................... 7

Graphic organisers for fiction......................................................................................................... 10

ARTICLES ..................................................................................................................................................... 11

Why Fashion Designers are Obsessed with Color ........................................................................ 11

How Color Affects Mood .................................................................................................................... 15

Syrian refugee children process trauma through art ............................................................... 19

Streaming Music Is Fundamentally Changing the Way We Listen ........................................... 21

.............................................................................. 24
READING CIRCLES ROLES........................................................................................................................ 25

Colour Me Blue by Penny Hext ......................................................................................................... 31

The Last Leaf by O. Henry ................................................................................................................ 34
Grace by Carmen Morones ............................................................................................................... 37
...................................................................................................................... 46
MOVIE: McFarland ...................................................................................................................................... 47

SONG: Hymn for the Weekend by Coldplay ft Beyonc ............................................................... 51

Unit 1 21st Century Reading 3 TED Talks ............................................................................................... 54

Unit 1: Hidden Miracles ........................................................................................................................ 54

Life - Intermediate Students Book video scripts .......................................................................... 55

.......................................................................................................................... 58
...................................................................................................................... 60
............................................................................................................. 62
............................................................................................................................................... 64
PROJECT WORK 1: Zoom in......................................................................................................................... 65

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LIFE COLOUR Colour in our lives (identity, decoration, messages) - Culture & colour
Colour & nature Colour & first impressions Colour & traditions
TOPICS:
PERFORMANCE A world of music (styles, online access to it) Dancing & its different
Units 1 & 2 purposes A World Together (globalization in terms of entertainment,
business, politics, food, culture exchange) Portraying Artists
ANALYSIS GUIDELINES 1: Key words & Summary Writing + Graphic Organisers for
CRITICAL Articles
THINKING ARTICLE 1: Why Fashion Designers are Obsessed with Colour
ARTICLE 2: How Colour Affects Mood
through
ARTICLE 3: Syrian Refugee Children Process Trauma through Art
ARTICLES ARTICLE 4: Streaming Music Is Fundamentally Changing the Way We Listen
ANALYSIS GUIDELINES 1: Reading Circles & Summary Writing + Graphic Organisers
CRITICAL for Fiction
Eleven by Sandra Cisneros
THINKING Colour Me Blue by Penny Hext
through FICTION The Last Leaf by O. Henry
Grace by Carmen Morones
VIDEOS FILM SONG by Coldplay 21ST CENTURY
AUDIOVISUAL
Peruvian Weavers McFarland, Hymn for the READING 3
RESOURCES Taiko Master USA Weekend Hidden Miracles

PATHWAYS TO Guidelines on Summary Writing + GR (Great Writing):

+ Unit 1 Introduction to paragraphs (Definition of a paragraph, its constitutive parts:
GREAT topic sentence, controlling idea, supporting sentences & one sentence conclusion)
WRITING + Unit 2 Five Elements of Good Writing (Purpose, audience, clarity, unity & coherence)

Unit 18: Art & literature Unit 51: Time

Unit 19: Theatre & cinema Unit 61: Cause, reason,
EVIU purpose & result
VOCABULARY Unit 20: Music
(Upper- Unit 41: Pleasant & unpleasant feelings Unit 62: Concession &
BUILDING intermediate) contrast
Unit 42: Like, dislike & desire
Unit 63: Addition
Unit 47: Emotions & moods
Unit 69: Suffixes

Module 5: Present Tenses [26, 27, 28, 29]

Module 7: Present Perfect [36, 37]
Module 12: Verbs with ing forms & infinitives [64, 65, 66 & 67]
GRAMMAR MGL
Module 15: Liking Words [78 , 79, 80 & 81]
DEVELOPMENT (Intermediate)
Module 18: Word Formation [95, 96 & 97]
Module 19: Formal & Written English [99, 100 & 101]
Module 20: Spoken English. Expressing our feelings & ideas [108]
GOING Becoming part of the closed Facebook group: Lengua Inglesa 1 2017
Growing Together
ONLINE: Completing the Personal Profile 2017
FACEBOOK, PEDCO Posting tasks on Album 1 (Celtic Tree Zodiac), Album 2 (Introduction to
Paragraphs) & Album 3 (Whats on)
& OTHER TOOLS

OVER TO YOU: Zoom in

TASKS & PROJECT

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Article 1: Why Fashion Designers are Obsessed with Colour

Article 2: How Colour Affects Moods

Article 3: Syrian Refugee Children Process Trauma through Art

Article 4: Streaming Music Is Fundamentally Changing the Way we

Listen

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In this section you will find 4 articles on the topics dealt with in our
coursebook Life units 1 (Colours) & 2 (Performance).
1. Read the guidelines on summary writing on pp. 5 to 10.
2. In groups of four, read the articles quickly to choose the one you like
the best.
3. Then, summarise the contents of the article of your choice using one of
the graphic organisers corresponding to non-fiction texts on pp. 7 to 9.
4. Prepare a poster with your graphic organiser and be ready to share it in
class with your companions.

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SUMMARY WRITING GUIDELINES

General considerations

Summarising is a skill we need in our everyday lives and more so in an

academic environment. Therefore, we need to strengthen it since we are
asked to write summaries on different occasions and on a variety of texts.
In general terms, summary writing is a process that involves reading and re-reading a text in order
to identify its main ideas and then describe them in other words. This process requires the
employment of the sub-skills of note-taking and paraphrasing.

What is an academic summary?

A summary is a brief report of the main ideas presented in an oral or written text. It restates
the most important points of the original piece without including examples or details, such as
dates, numbers or statistics. The length will vary depending on the nature of the assignment a
one-page, a paragraph or a sentence summary; the complexity of the text a journal article, a
novel, a scientific book and the audience it is aimed at. Most importantly, summaries provide
a clear and objective picture of what the original text is about.

Why do we write summaries?

The purpose of writing summaries is to condense the meaning of texts in a shorter length,
using our own words. This allows us to better understand and remember the information we
read since, in order to do so, we need to be able to differentiate between main and supporting
ideas and examples.

How do we develop the skill of summarising?

Putting the ideas that follow into practice is a good start to develop this skill...

GUIDELINES ON SUMMARY WRITING

1 Find the most important information that tells you what the text is about. To do this you will have to
read and re-read. It is important that you underline the original text in different colours, highlighting
main and supporting ideas, as well as the concluding points. You can also write comments on the
margin, signalling aspects you consider worth remembering.

2 Use this information to write the main thesis of the text and the topic sentence of each paragraph.

3 Find 2 - 3 main ideas and important details that support the topic sentence for each paragraph and
show how they are related. Then outline the content of each paragraph on the margin.

4 Keep the ideas and facts in a logical order. The use of links here is crucial since you need to maintain
the semantic relationships presented in the original text.

5 Combine several main ideas into a single sentence. This allows you to condense information and
reduce the number of words used.

6 Do not include unimportant or minor details and do not repeat information.

7 Write the summary in your own words, that is, do not copy information directly from the text.

8 The final version should be a unified, complete, and coherent whole.

Adapted from: http://pearsonkt.com/writeToLearn/demoMode/writingHelpSummaryStatic.html

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What type of summaries will you write in Lengua Inglesa 1?

In this subject, you will be exposed to different types of texts:

Articles on a variety of topics related to the units in the coursebook,

Fiction (short stories, microfiction & novels) and
Audiovisual material (videos, films, songs, TEDTalks).

In order to get familiarised, better understand and remember the content of the material you will
be in contact with, we will ask you to summarise it on several occasions, following special prompts.
Summarising each of these genre types entails a special treatment because, even though the basic
procedure is the same, the language used in each case may vary. For instance, when summarising
articles, you will need to resort to several reporting verbs that show the writers development of
ideas on the topic. However, narrative texts short stories, novels require lots of linking devices
that allow you to present events in a logical or chronological order. Finally, with audiovisual
material, depending on the type of text/genre you are given (documentary, film, short) and the task
assigned, you will probably use a mix of the language items mentioned above. The table below
provides some sample language that might be helpful:

Language to introduce ideas according to the type of text being

summarised
In the article (title), (author) states
Articles /claims /describes/ presents
Present Tenses are typically used.
/discusses...
The author goes on to say that ...
According to (author), ...
(Author's last name) also believes
/argues that ...
(Authors last name) concludes that ...

Past Tenses (Simple Past, Past

The novel / book / short story (title),
Fiction Continuous, Past perfect) and
is about ...
Present Tenses are possible but
Firstly, ... / At the beginning, ...
once you make a choice, you have
Then ... / After that... / Once..., ...
to stick to it. Do not shift tenses
In the meantime... / Meanwhile ...
unless it is justified by the context.
Finally, ... / Eventually, ... / In the end,
...

Audiovisual Either of the two above or a mix of both.

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Lets recap! Characteristics of a good summary

An effective summary should be:

Complete: all the ideas that are essential to the authors thesis should be included.
Concise: it should be considerably shorter than the original text. Do not include
unessential information.
Accurate: it should respect the authors ideas. Do not distort the authors views.
Objective: it should recapitulate the authors points. Do not include your objections
or criticisms.
Coherent: it should make sense to someone who has not read the original. It
shouldnt be a list of loosely-related sentences that have been strung together in
paragraph format.
Independent: it should be written in your own words. Do not take strings of words
from the original source.

Adapted from: http://www.iue.edu/hss/writingcenter/documents/SummaryWriting.pdf

Consulted source: 2006 Christine Bauer-Ramazani, Saint Michael's College. Last updated: August 8, 2013

Graphic organisers for articles

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Graphic organisers for fiction

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ARTICLES
RTICL

ARTICLE 1

Why Fashion Designers are Obsessed with Color

BY SHAWN FORNO | DECEMBER 23, 2016

Everyone expresses themselves through color. From the moment we pick out our clothes
in the morning, to the shade of lipstick or scarf we put on, to the time we put on our
pyjamas at night, color factors into how we convey emotion, identity, meaning.
So if color is so fundamental, it only makes sense for brands to adopt a color
strategy that conveys their core values to consumers in a single glance. Unfortunately,
color is also one of the most fluid and frustratingly subjective things to quantify.
Psychoanalyst and Sigmund Freud collaborator Carl Jung famously said, Color is
the mother tongue of the subconscious. So if the effects of color are so difficult to codify,
how can brands and designers tap into this primal conduit to a consumers emotional
core? The answer lies in an industry thats almost completely dominated by seasonal
(aka subjective) color trends: Fashion.

The Importance of Seasons

Fashion designers embrace a simple truth when it comes to consumers and color:
Seasons change. A lot. In order to keep up with fast-paced seasonal color expectations,
Michael Kors actually added two new seasons Resort and Pre-Fall to its
spring/summer and fall/winter calendar.
Other brands are also experimenting with additional fashion seasons. This allows
designers to experiment with colors and trends, extending popular looks into shoulder
seasons that bleed from three-month runs to six-month shelf lives.
Considering that researchers have
studied peoples reactions to color for
decades and that the only real conclusion
theyve agreed on is that one size never fits all
the addition of new seasons makes sense.
The fashion industry has changed the calendar
itself to satisfy as many customers as possible
for as long as possible.
In order to keep up with fast-paced
seasonal color expectations, Michael Kors
actually added two new seasons Resort
and Pre-Fall to its spring/summer and
fall/winter calendar.
Image by Galyna Andrushko

Telling the Story Behind the Color

Color is a constantly shifting target, but getting your color branding just right takes a lot
more than chaotic experimentation. It takes a lot of work. Years of work, in fact.
And forecasting relevant color trends for years to come takes more than market
research. It takes a driving narrative that sets a consistent tone for designers to play off
during the long journey from concept to reality. J.Crew Senior Menswear Designer
Elizabeth Kimball describes the importance of story in the color branding process:

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We are big on color, but also stories. There is often a story, a painting, an artist, or
a mood and inspiration for why we pick the colors or use them in certain combinations
for a particular season. The story J.Crew wants to tell always drives the color choice for
their brand, not the climate of the current market trends.
At the same time, attitudes toward color change all the time. Yellow may be bold
one season and tired the next. However, fashion brands spend hours forecasting these
changes so they can adapt and even outpace fickle color trends. The result is that
fashion leaders end up setting color trends not reacting to them.
For instance, Diesel and Vans both prominently featured rose quartz a subtle
shade of pink in their spring 2016 lines. Within weeks the color proliferated across
most every brand, particularly those marketing to millennials, and lived up to its title as
Pantones Color of the Year.
Diesel and Vans both prominently featured rose quartz in their spring 2016 lines.
Within weeks the color proliferated across most every brand.
Image by Miriam Doerr Martin Frommherz

While the adoption of rose quartz might

seem reactionary, brands that quickly adopt the
hippest shades are years ahead of the
competition and the trends.
According to J.Crews Kimball, Work on
the color for a clothing collection starts about
15 months in advance sometimes up to 24
months in advance for active brands!

Your Shade Or Mine?

Authors Tom Fraser and Adam Banks argue against stagnating and conforming to rigid
notions of color identity and meaning in their book, Designers Color Manual: The
Complete Guide to Color Theory and Application. One objection to the idea of fixed color
effects is that there are no fixed colors, Fraser and Banks conclude. Even among
perfectly sighted people, color is subjective. If your yellow is another mans orange, how
can any two people be expected to react to color in the exact same way?
Meanwhile in Color and Meaning: Art, Science, and Symbolism, art historian John
Gage stresses how language itself tries to cope with the inherent fluidity of color. Even
in the Middle Ages, languages like Old French had words that could mean either blue or
yellow, red or green, he writes. So how do brands influence consumer attitudes when
they cant even agree on the exact color?
Like so many things, its all in how you use it.

Appropriate Colors

The commercial success of a new seasonal line often doesnt hinge on the quality of the
design or the caliber of the palette. Its all about perception. Do consumers agree with the
color choices?
Writer, content marketing strategist and consumer color-branding enthusiast
Gregory Ciotti notes in his piece about the psychology of color in branding that, When it
comes to picking the right color, research has found that predicting consumer reaction
to color appropriateness is far more important than the individual color itself.
A study titled The Impact of Color on Marketing found that up to 90 percent of snap
judgments made about products can be based on color alone, depending on the product.
That speed indicates that consumers are reacting to the appropriateness of the color
being used to market the product almost exclusively. They know within seconds if the
color is right or not.
While certain colors almost always align with certain emotions or traits, dozens of
academic studies agree that, Its more important for the colors to support the

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personality you want to portray instead of
trying to align with stereotypical color
associations.
Image by lexey anashkin

Crew even goes so far as to create its

own internal color codes and combinations to
get its branding just right. While many
companies use Pantone or CSI, we like to do
things our own way. For us it doesnt set any
limitations. Anything can be a color! says
Kimball.
One of our designers cut a string from
the lining of a coat from the 1930s that was perfectly aged in a warehouse in Minnesota.
That could be your next favorite pair of jeans or chinos or sweater.
Above all, brands need to choose the colors that tell their story in a compelling way.
While you can never eliminate preconceived notions of color, a decisive palette with a
strong perspective will influence the emotional reaction of consumers. This story-driven
approach to branding is one of the great strengths of the fashion industry and is why its
companies like J. Crew are on the bleeding edge of color branding research and practice.

The Power of the Unexpected

Pink was almost exclusively a color for boys until the turn of the 20th century, and it
wasnt until advertisers positioned pink as a color for girls that it became the accepted
norm for women and womens issues like breast cancer. Color norms are subject to
change, and when brands break expectations like perceived gender norms the
rewards can be sweeping and immediate.
Ciotti encourages pushing boundaries instead of reacting to tired expectations.
Perceived appropriateness shouldnt be so rigid as to assume a brand or product cant
succeed because the colors dont match surveyed tastes, he says. Another study on the
interactive effects of colors and products on perceptions of brand logo
appropriateness found that, When people know how brands are attempting to position
themselves, people consider colors congruent with those positions to be more
appropriate.
Thats further evidence that people respond
to storytelling with perspective. Whether its a
classic color scheme or an aggressive gender-
bending campaign, successful branding is all
about appropriate color usage that fits your
unique story. And the most important part of
your story might not be the colors at all, but the
names you give them.
Whether its a classic color scheme or an
aggressive gender-bending campaign, successful
branding is all about appropriate color usage
that fits your unique story.
Image by Ko Backpacko

A Rose By Any Other Name

Naming colors is one way of manipulating their psychological impact.Designers Color

Manual: The Complete Guide to Color Theory and Application
Color names are part of the storytelling, and should be pivotal to branding. Gray
doesnt evoke the same emotions as slate. Charcoal is different than black. And
people notice.

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A Psychology & Marketing study on the color naming influences on decision
making found that subjects far preferred names like mocha over brown when shown
products that were identical colors. Brands need to remember that colors themselves are
inherently subjective, so consumer reactions to their names is equally so.
Naming colors, particularly when it comes to clothing, can be a challenge, though.
Kimball points out some of the limitations and dangers of winging it with your own color
names. Things get pretty creative when were naming our colors. You can only have so
many navy and dark navy, and our color names cant go longer than two words and
have to sound like the color, so needless to say its pretty fun. Heather Penguin is one of
my favorites.
The key, as always is a strong brand perspective and commitment to story.

La Mode

Like all storytelling tools from prose to motion pictures, color is a powerful emotive tool
that can resonate with your audienceif you know how to use it.
Color is emotional for us, and for our customers too. Color can make a person light
up a room or feel cozy at home, Kimball concludes. Color is how (most of us) see the
world. It can be the difference between if we love or hate something. It expresses emotion
and personality. The right color clothing can bring out a persons eyes or make them look
sick, so its kind of a big deal.
Brands and marketers can borrow a page from the fashion industry. Embrace the
ephemeral nature of color and shifting consumer reactions and incorporate them into
your brands identity. Make change part of your brands message, and set color trends
instead of scrambling to react to them.
Use the colors that tell your story, and consumers will listen.

Source: https://www.shutterstock.com/blog/fashion-designers-color

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ARTICLE 2
How Color Affects Mood
Anger is red, tranquility is blue, but describing color is almost impossible to do

BY MARK MYERSON | DECEMBER 9, 2016

Ah, yes there are infinite ways to play with

that familiar poem about roses and violets.
But as with most narrations on color, the ode
only mentions items that carry coloration,
rather than the particular shade itself.
Perhaps thats because describing color in a
universally accepted way is an impossible
task; rather, its a sensory experience that is
different for every individual. This was proven
last year, when a picture of a dress went
viral because viewers around the world simply
could not agree on the color of the garment.
The closest we can come to an accurate
portrait of any given color is to study the
feelings and associations that are linked with
each hue. After all, most people go about their daily lives without considering why
warning signs are red, and why blue induces tranquil thoughts. For visual creatives,
however, such information can be invaluable. To consider how color affects mood, we
asked some of the worlds leading color experts for their insight.

Reacting to Stimuli

In order to understand the emotional impact of color, it is first necessary to take a

whistle-stop tour of human physiology. As living organisms, we react to stimuli. This is
not a conscious choice think of the jump and pounding heartbeat caused by a
sudden sound or shocking event. Color is also a stimulus, so scientists have to test our
reactions in order to gain some insight into the effects of various tones.
Dr. Nurlelawati Binti Ab. Jalil works at the Department of
Applied Arts and Design at the International Islamic University
of Malaysia. Much of her research is based around our
instinctive reactions to color. In one study, she asked test
subjects to sit in a room with colored walls. Throughout the
experiment, she measured the heart rate of each participant,
and gave them a paper-based task in order to gauge their

Red made her subjects alertness. She found her group of test subjects reacted
feel tension and fatigue, differently to the various colors, and the effects were dependent
although it is visually on the length of exposure.
stimulating, said Dr. Ab. Red made my subjects feel tension and fatigue, although
Jalil
it is visually stimulating, says Ab. Jalil, referring to the data.
Image by Sean Locke
Photography Their heart rates were slower, and they performed poorly. It
indicated they experienced discomfort at the sight of red, which
distracted their attention from the task. What about other colors? Bluish-green also
caused a decrease in heart rate and poorer performance but emotionally, subjects
were less affected by negative mood. She explains that the cooler tones actually made
test subjects too relaxed for optimal performance.
Notably, however, the effects of red only lasted for short bursts, while the calming
influence of the blue-green shades had a positive effect during longer exposures. This
backs up the suppositions of legendary color theorist Faber Birren, although subsequent

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research is limited; however, designers would still be advised to take note. Many color
studies that involve working spaces or learning institutions have highlighted the
importance of color for productivity and positive influences, Ab. Jalil points out.
Fellow researchers working in the field of psychology have noted that boxers
wearing red were more likely to win their bouts than those wearing blue. Even the color
of your poker chips, or the tie you wear to work may have some small impact.

Cultural Perception

There is evidence to show that some colors evoke

reactions due to ever-present associations. For
instance, even our most ancient of ancestors
would have felt angst when seeing a rush of red
blood, or satisfaction at waking to find blue skies
overhead. In most cases, though, the way we
perceive color is shaped by our native culture.
Someone who has studied this carefully is
Joe Hallock, who currently works as a design
manager at Microsoft. Earlier in his career, while
studying at the University of Washington, The way we perceive color is shaped by
he authored a project that sought to decipher the our native culture. Image by f9photos
meaning of color to different people. He stumbled
upon some interesting associations. For example, in Western cultures, people tend to
wear dark or black clothing to funerals, whereas in China, people wear very bright or
white clothing, he says. In some cases, such differences are cultural. Mexicans wear
white to celebrate Dia de los Muertos (Day of the Dead), while Hindu funerals are usually
vibrant. But in his study, Hallock also notes that some languages dont even have
specific words for green, blue, yellow, or orange. For example, Russian has no single
word for blue, and the Amazonian tribal language of Pirah, as spoken in Brazil, has no
color terms at all.
One striking graph in Hallocks online paper showed a significant divide between
the favorite colors of different age groups. He has his own hypothesis for this strange
phenomenon: As children, we have certain color preferences. As we get older, outside
factors influence us and we change.
In fact, Hallock was unable to find any truly universal color associations despite
extensive investigation. This all suggests that nurture as in, behavior and traits
developed over a lifetime rivals nature, or innate characteristics, as the primary
influence on our understanding of color.

Applied (Color) Theory

Despite the numerous factors that seem to influence our perceptions of color, many
people within each culture seem to share similar views about various shades. In the
creative industries, such trends can be extremely important.
As part of Pantones team of expert design consultants, Leatrice Eiseman knows
color preferences better than most. There are always the psychological connotations that
go along with each color family, she states. As a general rule, blues are regarded as
trustworthy, red as dynamic, and so on. But these broad brush strokes are too
indefinite for the particulars of design, she continues. There are many values, shades
and intensities in each of the color families, so it is difficult to generalize.
Eiseman reels off a couple of examples: While blue is a credible, serene kind of
color, electric blue is exactly the opposite. Brown can mean richness, as in expensive
chocolates or a sumptuous cup of coffee, or even a supple leather jacket; it can also
mean rich soil, and for some people, dirt. In other words, context shapes the ideas and
feelings that each color brings to mind when we see a particular hue.

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Image by dotshock

Among the subtleties, there are still overarching rules which apply everywhere.
Deepening almost every color family adds weight to the color, says Eiseman. This
could be very positive for a legal firm wishing to portray gravitas, but less suitable for a
party organizer.

Online marketing automation company Performable saw

a 21 percent jump in new signups after changing the call-to-
action buttons on its website from green to red. Tweet

When direct sales or online conversions are the objective, the dynamism of red can
drive consumer decision-making. In one striking example, online marketing automation
company Performable saw a 21 percent jump in new signups after changing the call-to-
action buttons on its website from green to red. It turns out that the color that was so
distracting for Ab. Jalils test subjects is eye-catching in a different context. Red is often
mentioned as a power color, Eiseman points out.
These rules are useful as guidelines, but the most successful designs use colors
that are optimized for the target demographic. When working with clients, Eiseman takes
many factors into consideration. Firstly, who is the target audience? That informs me
instantly as to which consumers will be buying the product. Their age, location, lifestyle,
and that sort of information is very meaningful, she says. Gender is another key
separator. For instance, the research done by Joe Hallock indicates that purple is
popular with women, but is one of the colors most disliked by men.
Color can also play a significant part in branding. This is the next step in Eisemans
workflow: What is the companys image? How do they want to be perceived? The classic
example is Facebook, a social network that is often viewed as intrusive, which uses blue
branding to calm users and convey trustworthiness.

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Future Trends

In this age of optimization and constant A/B testing, the psychological effects of color are
still relatively under-exploited. Research shows that consumers usually assess a product
in the first 90 seconds; between 62 and 90 percent of that assessment is based on color.
The rise of visual media will only concentrate the effects of this phenomenon. In spite of
the overwhelming evidence, most small businesses are completely unaware of the
potential gains to be made from the right color choices.
Likewise, Ab. Jalil believes her
research shows how color can affect
productivity in the workplace. There are
huge gaps and potential possibilities that
are yet to be explored, she says. She
points to Japan, where observational
evidence links blue street lighting with a
reduction in crime and attempted
suicides. A peer review published in
1996 even concluded that the color of
medicinal drugs can affect their efficacy.
Image by Andrey Protsenko

There is much more scientific research still to be done, but the message is clear:
Color influences our subconsciouses, and this knowledge will be used to greater effect in
the years to come.

Source: https://www.shutterstock.com/blog/color-affects-mood (December 2016)

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ARTICLE 3
Syrian refugee children process trauma through art
NGOs in Lebanon have been using art therapy to help children to deal with the horrific
events they witnessed in Syria.

BY INDIA STOUGHTON - MARCH 4, 2017

Beirut - Some Syrian refugee children process the

trauma of war by drawing tanks and bloodshed; others
focus their art on rainbows and flowers, images of happier
times.
This is what art therapists working in Lebanon have
found after years of working with Syrian children fleeing

war in their home country.

A parent mirrors her child's
drawing in a group session "Art is a very effective way to work with kids," said
designed to help parents to be art therapist Dania Fawaz, who has collaborated with a
more attuned to their children'snumber of NGOs that work with vulnerable youth,
needs [Dania Fawaz/Al Jazeera] including Tahaddi, Himaya, Intersos and Caritas.
"Verbalising a traumatic event for a child - or even
for an adult sometimes - can create so much anxiety that it hinders their capacity to
express," she told Al Jazeera. "A lot of children, especially the younger ones, haven't
developed the verbal skills they need to describe such horrific events, especially if you're
speaking about war. Art is a less directive and more natural tool for children to express
themselves."
Half a million school-age Syrian refugee children are registered in Lebanon and,
although they are safe from war, they are now grappling with a lack of access to
education and inadequate psychological care. Many have suffered extreme trauma,
witnessing brutal violence and the loss of their homes, schools, friends and family
members. Art therapy is one strategy for dealing with this unprocessed trauma.
Qualified art therapy is a relatively new field in Lebanon and requires practitioners
to study abroad, as no degree is offered locally.
Myra Saad, the founder and director of Artichoke Studio, a registered art therapy
centre in Beirut, said that it tends to follow a series of steps common to different
branches of psychotherapy: "one, to have a safe space where you can express yourself;
two, to become more aware of what you're feeling and where it's coming from; and three,
to eventually change".
The primary goal is to give participants "the
space and time to be children again", Saad told
Al Jazeera.
"Especially with children who have been
through a lot, they start to act out all the anger
on others, and bringing them back to a place
where no one's going to hurt you and you're not
going to hurt anyone is a big change," she said.
"During the sessions, we give them time to This art piece was from a project that
grieve, because they lost a lot. We want to help brought together children from different
them to regain a sense of control, so that they'll socioeconomic backgrounds [Dania
be able to manage their anxieties better." Fawaz/Al Jazeera]
Fawaz says that it is important to not
pressure children to talk about the war, but instead allow them to come to it in their own
time, or to approach it through metaphor.

19
 - -
"Some children become extremely hyperactive after trauma, and some become
extremely withdrawn, so I try to allow the children to decide at their own pace when they
would like to start to revisit these memories," she said.
"[Some] children who've recently arrived in Lebanon from Syria very quickly begin to
draw images of chopped heads and the army tanks coming closer - very graphic images
for a child to have seen... [Others] have lived through a lot and all they want to draw is
rainbows and flowers, and this is what they need."
The aim of the art therapy sessions is to help children to overcome symptoms such
as anxiety, anger and behavioural difficulties.
Fawaz recalled how one young boy, having recently arrived in Lebanon from Syria,
was constantly afraid to be alone. "If there was the sound of a plane, he would react the
way he did in Syria, which was to duck for cover and scream in terror," she said. "His
mum was telling me that [since doing art therapy], he is able to go out alone. He is able
to sit in class and listen. He's able to make friends."
Another boy, a 12-year-old who had been living in an area occupied by the Islamic
State of Iraq and the Levant group (ISIL, also known as ISIS), reacted to the trauma of
the extreme violence he had witnessed by becoming very aggressive.
"When he first came, it was image after image of war, and I allowed it to go on for as
long as he needed it to go on for," Fawaz said. "We would always discuss these images,
and he would tell me about his memories. Eventually, through engaging in this process,
his drawings were still of Syria, but became about the times when he used to play with
his friends We moved on recently to him drawing his current classroom and his
current interactions with people. So it shows this real transformation."
Although an increasing number of NGOs have been utilising art therapy, funding is
often very limited and therapists are expected to work miracles in a short time. Saad and
Fawaz both emphasise that they require at least eight sessions with each patient, ideally
a dozen. Children with severe symptoms of trauma might need up to a year of therapy.
But even shorter, intensive blocks of treatment can have a positive effect. Art
therapist Mona Shibaru worked with a group of teenage Syrian girls over 10 days in July
2016 as a volunteer for the Singapore-based
organisation The Red Pencil, which runs art
therapy courses worldwide.
"There was a lot of imagery of war, of
course - a lot of trauma," Shibaru told Al
Jazeera. "Images of yearning to go back
home, images of death, loss of homes,
displacement, separation from family
members and a lot of verbal processing of
how to integrate into a community here while
being displaced.
"Even though they've been interacting The aim of the art therapy sessions is to help
children to overcome symptoms such as
together for four years, they had never anxiety, anger and behavioural
spoken about their experiences of leaving difficulties [Dania Fawaz/Al Jazeera]
home or what they witnessed during the war
So this was not only a healing process, but also a process of bonding."
No matter how long the treatment, Saad said, it is important to leave patients with
a message of hope.
"We try to build some kind of resiliency that will stay with them even after the group
finishes We focus a lot on the power of imagination, because imagination and
memories are things that no one can take away from you. No matter what happens, no
matter where you move, you can still dream and imagine and envision."
Source: http://www.aljazeera.com/indepth/features/2017/01/syrian-refugee-children-process-trauma-art-
170114100012150.html

20
 - -
ARTICLE 4
Streaming Music Is Fundamentally Changing the Way We Listen
The recent debate on streaming has been focused on short-term concerns
-- issues of access, mobile convenience and remuneration.

By JOHN MACFARLANE. Jun 5, 2015

Over the past 10 years, we at Sonos have had the

privilege of a front-row seat as streaming music has
evolved; weve watched inspiring innovative ideas and
technologies emerge and take shape. Some of these
flourished, while others faded away. Through it all, two
things remained constant: The passion music fans feel for
their favorite artists, and their determination to do
whatever it takes to listen to the music they love.

Weve reached a watershed moment for streaming music. Music fans are taking
advantage of a rapidly evolving landscape of technologies and services that are redefining
our music experience, and expanding our engagement with music and artists in ways
that were previously unimaginable.

While music-streaming growth has long outpaced the purchase of digital downloads
and CDs, we now see the tipping point globally. This sea change from ownership to
access is comparable only to the invention of recorded music itself. We believe that by
2021, one billion people worldwide will be paying for streaming music.

Globally, 92 percent of all music listening on Sonos is streaming radio or paid on-
demand our customers are bypassing their existing music collections and enjoying the
near-infinite choice streaming has to offer. Another interesting fact: The most listened-to
music source in the U.S. is Pandora this service accounts for almost 50 percent of all
listening. In Sweden, more than 90 percent of our customers use a Spotify Premium
subscription on their system. Now artists and labels are leaning in big time, seeking new
ways to be heard and to connect more directly with their fans.

21
 - -
Music streaming will soon be music again

The recent debate on streaming has been focused on short-term concerns issues of
access, mobile convenience and remuneration. As we accelerate up the path toward 100
million and then one billion paid streaming listeners, these are crucial conversations, of
course. Any fundamental transformation requires new business models, throwing up
both the good and the bad. The industry needs to strike a balance that will benefit both
artist and listener.

As the evolution of on-demand music has shown us, what matters most is the simplicity
of the listening experience, which can often be at odds with the music businesss
position. Digital musics relatively brief history is filled with examples of the
extraordinary lengths music fans are willing to go to to access and enjoy the music they
love piracy was arguably a direct consequence of the lack of simple legal alternatives.

Our ultimate goal as an industry must be to create a sustainable ecosystem that

both ensures artists can succeed and flourish and provides music lovers with seamless
access to that music alongside a revitalized listening experience. Fully free on-demand
services will most likely not exist in the future; its just not a viable model for artists. But
paid on-demand has reached a tipping point that we believed in from the beginning and
that has tremendous benefits for music listeners and artists alike.

A plethora of streaming services from pioneers such as Spotify, YouTube and

Pandora to more recent entrants like Tidal and soon Apple are introducing hundreds
of millions of listeners to streaming music, and making sweeping changes to the listening
experience via curated playlists, smart algorithms and other completely new,
hyperconnected approaches.

Equally important will be a healthy stable of specialized offerings regional

services like Saavn, specialists like SoundCloud or 22Tracks that capture otherwise
inaccessible content, experience layers like Pause, and niche offerings like Mixcloud
all vying to provide listeners with the music they crave.

Changing how artists and fans connect

The music industrys focus on mobile has resulted in an array of acoustically

compromised scenarios. Music enthusiasts have been forced to piece together
dysfunctional home audio systems iPhones plugged into ancient stereos, portable
Bluetooth boxes originally intended for beach and barbecue, blaringly inadequate laptop
speakers. The home listening experience, a former bastion of high fidelity excellence, was
relegated to an afterthought.

This is in stark contrast with the way people actually want to listen to music.
Edison Researchs Share of Ear study shows that more than half of all music listening
in the U.S. is happening at home (53 percent), followed by the car (30 percent) and the
workplace (13 percent). Our own global research confirms that same behavior. Only
those music services that provide a true home solution will be successful in the long
term.

22
 - -

But change is already under way. Smart speaker systems, connected to the Internet
and capable of immaculate audio fidelity, are revolutionizing how music reaches peoples
homes, facilitating unprecedented multi-room, multi-source, multi-user listening
experiences, and once again making the home the best possible place to discover, enjoy
and share music.

Another fundamental shift lies in music creators finding new ways to be heard and
to build deeper, more connected relationships with their audience. Its a new standard
that requires a different approach to curation and promotion, but one that offers artists
exponentially enhanced control over the way their music is experienced. Todays music
lovers demand a more hands-on engagement in defining their personal relationship to
the music and the artists they love.

With smart speakers and smartphones in the middle, artists can enjoy a creative
conduit to mining the power of streaming, using context as a creative opportunity and
dynamically responding to real-time fan feedback. The full potential of streaming to
inform the creative process remains untapped and infinitely promising.

The future belongs to those who can create the most seamless connection between
the listener, the artist and their work. When the dust clears, it will be the artists who will
define what the future of streaming is going to look and more importantly sound
like, making music lovers the real winners.

John MacFarlane is the co-founder and CEO of Sonos, the premiere manufacturer of
wireless music systems. In 1992, he co-founded and served as the CEO of Software.com.
Reach him @JohnLMacFarlane.

Source: https://www.recode.net/2015/6/5/11563286/streaming-music-is-fundamentally-changing-the-
way-we-listen

23
- -

Eleven by Sandra Cisneros

Colour Me Blue by Penny Hext

The Last Leaf by O. Henry

Grace by Carmen Morones

24
 - -

READING CIRCLES ROLES

Role Name Name Name Name

Discussion Leader

Summary Illustrator

Theme Collector

Word Wizard

Meet the Author

Born (when & where) Authors pic

Main works

Type of Literature he/she wrote

Something that interested me

25
 - -

Discussion leader
The Discussion Leaders job is to
look for information about the author and be prepared to share it.
read the story twice, and write at least five general questions about
it.
ask one or two questions to start the Reading Circle discussion.
make sure that everyone has a chance to speak and join in the discussion.
call on each member to present their prepared role information.
guide the discussion and keep it going.
MY QUESTIONS
1. ______________________________________________________________?
2. ______________________________________________________________?
3. ______________________________________________________________?
4. ______________________________________________________________?
5. ______________________________________________________________?
OTHER GENERAL IDEAS
Questions about the characters (like/ not like them, true to life/ not true to life?)
Questions about the theme (friendship, romance, parents/children, ghosts?)
Questions about the ending (surprising, expected, liked it/ did not like it?)
Questions about different interpretations (clear/ambiguous development, analysis?)
Questions about what will happen next (predictions?)

Summary Illustrator

The Summary Illustrators job is to

read the story and make notes about the characters, events and ideas.
find the key points that everyone must know to understand and remember the story.
retell the story in a short summary (one or two minutes) in your own words.
talk about your summary to the group, using your writing to help you.
Your reading circles will find your summary very useful, because it will help them to recall the plot
and the characters in the story. You may need to read the story more than once to make a good
summary, and you may need to repeat it to the group a second time.
MY KEY POINTS
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________
Main events
______________________________________________________________________________________________________
Characters & their personality traits
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________
MY SUMMARY
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________
(Use one of the graphic organisers for fiction on page 10 to write your summary)

26
 - -

Theme collector

The Theme Collectors job is to

read the story twice, and look for connections between the story and
the world outside in terms of events, characters and themes.
make notes about at least two possible connections to your own
experiences, or to the experiences of friends and family, or to real-life events.
find connections between the story and its corresponding unit in the coursebook
tell the group about the connections and ask for their comments or questions.
ask the group if they can think of any connections themselves.
These questions will help you think about connections while you are reading.
Events: Has anything similar ever happened to you, or to someone you know? Does anything in
the story remind you of events in the real world? For example, events you have read about in the
newspaper, or heard about on television news programmes.
Characters: Do any of them remind you of people you know? How? Why? Have you ever had the
same thoughts or feelings as these characters have? Do you know anybody who thinks, feels
and/or behaves like that?
Themes: What main topics/themes does the story deal with? How are these themes related to your
own experience?
MY CONNECTIONS:
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Word Wizard

The Word Wizards job is to

read the story twice, and look for words or short phrases that are new
or difficult to understand, or that are important in the story.
choose six words that you think are important for this story.
explain the meanings of these words in simple English to the group.
tell the group why these words are important for understanding this
story.
Your six words do not have to be new or unknown words. Look for words in the story that really
stand out in some way. These may be words that are: repeated often used in an unusual way or
important to the meaning of the story.
MY WORDS in context MEANING OF THE COLLOCATIONS REASON FOR
WORD in this context CHOOSING THE WORD
... (Page: )
... (Page: )
... (Page: )
... (Page: )
... (Page: )
... (Page: )
Adapted from https://elt.oup.com/teachers/readingcircles/?cc=ar&selLanguage=en

27
- -

Eleven by Sandra Cisneros

28
- -

29
- -

http://www.stjohns-chs.org/english/nwixon_courses/english-9-111/eleven-by-sandra-cisneros.pdf

30
 - -
Blue is the colour and memory of school. The
faded blue of my Nana's eyes, the itchy blue of
chilblains, the stark blue interlude of a wet day
one memorable summer.
Pink was never my colour. Pink was for girly-
girls. I was a tomboy, building dens, damming
rivers, climbing trees, scrumping apples over a
nearby convent wall. It was a closed order and we
used to do it for a double dare - up and over the
barbed-wire wall - my best friend Larry and me. I
got loads of practice. I remember hiding behind
the bramble bushes watching one of the nuns in
her funny hat hoe her onion row. I never thought
what would happen to her if I were caught. Maybe
she kept her eyes averted to keep us both safe.
Mum used to think I was playing quietly with
Caroline around the back of where we lived. Right!
Caroline was plump and diabetic and wore a
broad pink hairband over dark hair. She was
alright, but seeing her was about as exciting as
eating Nana's blancmange. Larry was more fun.
I used to sneak straight off from home down
the hill to the bridge over the derelict railway line.
There I'd scramble down, walk along the straight
bit, climb the bank up to the next bridge, over the
spiked iron fence, through the thick hawthorn
hedge at the top; to visit Larry instead. Easy.
Like me she had a strange name. Hers was
Hilary Manzetti -Larry for short. She was mad
about ponies. Riding was her passion. Tree
climbing was mine. Larry kept Judy,
her piebald pony, at Mary Tavy, just
down the road from where we lived
in Tavistock. I didn't even ride. I
wasn't allowed pets. But I would
have, if I could.
"Pets!" snorted Larry. "Ponies
aren't pets. Your father's a bank
manager, isn't he? Can't you just ask him?"
Couldn't I just. I bided my time and tried one
Sunday lunch.
Father didn't answer; he narrowed his eyes and
swallowed the last of his water like a good
Methodist teetotaller.
"No, Patty. You know we can't possibly afford
it."
"Whatever next!" exclaimed Mum.
So that was that. I relayed this back to Larry.
She rolled her eyes and flicked her red pigtails.
She was going off to ride with her new friend
Frankie - Francesca Hewson. Frankie had just
moved in next door to Larry. Frankie's pony was a
31
Colour Me Blue by Penny Hext
roan called Romal. I wasn't quite sure what colour
that was, and didn't want to ask. I didn't much like
Frankie. She had a pony AND she had Larry next
door. She had all the luck.
I found my favourite tree, the one that Larry and I
had named 'The Saddle' because of its saddle-
shaped branch. It stood over a stream on top of
the railway bank cutting. I'd get really muddy
sliding down that thin trickle of water. I found my
comfy branch and started to read 'The Silver
Brumbies'. If I couldn't own a pony, then I'd jolly
well read about them. But it wasn't the same.
Neither Larry nor Frankie had even heard of the
book - much less read it.
"Reading's for swots!" grinned Frankie, as she
insinuated her arm through Larry's in the school
corridor, where everyone was milling around after
the final bell. "Anyway, we're off riding now. Aren't
we Larry? You should get a pony of your own.
Then you could come with us. See you tomorrow,
Patty!"
I watched them get smaller and smaller as they
ran down the corridor, giggling and laughing, and
made a decision.
That Christmas Larry's father, Major Manzetti,
was posted to Andover in Wiltshire. "He's been
promoted!" Larry was all important.
"You will come and see me, won't you?" she
asked later, when no one else was around. "I'll be
all on my own again."
"Of course!" I lied.
"Promise?"
I nodded. "Cross my heart
and hope to die."
She smiled her buck-
toothed smile. My heart
ached. I couldn't imagine my
father driving me up to
Wiltshire, much less allowing me to stay. Larry
may as well have been moving to Mars. I would
never see her again. I knew that with absolute
certainty.
With Larry gone, Frankie suddenly seemed very
much alone - lost, with no-one to do anything
with. I realised that I had the advantage; I knew
what she felt like. Good.
I wasn't over-friendly at first - just gave Frankie
a cool nod at school. After all, I had other friends; I
had Caroline. I walked home up the hill with
Caroline most days now after school. She was
slower than me. We went to the sweet shop first
and chose chocolate together. Most of my
 - -
pocket-money went on it. She had a sweet tooth
for a diabetic; she loved white chocolate and was
strictly barred from it. I had a craze for Cadbury's
creme eggs; I could swallow an egg in one go.
Sometimes I would buy them in boxes of three
and gobble them one after another, until I felt ill. I
couldn't stop myself. It was pure s
ugar addiction.
One day Frankie was there in
the sweet shop, eyeing up the
Cadbury's creme eggs. Easter had
come and gone, but the pile was
still there. Caroline had been off
the past couple of days with 'flu
and Frankie must have seen me
going in alone. We studied the pile intently, she
and I side by side.
"Why don't you come and have lunch with me
this Saturday?" she said out of the blue.
I promptly dropped my Cadbury's creme egg
on the floor. She scanned the shop swiftly,
scooped up the sticky gloop and hid it at the back
of the pile.
"Nobody saw," she said calmly. "Why don't you
get another?"
I shrugged.
"So you'll come to lunch then?"
I nodded.
"It's the pony club gymkhana - we're having a
picnic." She said. "You can stay and watch if you
want."
"Where about is it?"
"Oh, Mummy'll pick you up. I'll get her to give
your mother a ring, shall I?"
As good as her word, Frankie's mother rang my
Mum and announced that she'd pick me up at
noon on Saturday. My mother laid me out a clean
pair of jeans and a lumpy Arran sweater that she'd
knitted for my last birthday. Then there was the
question of footwear.
"It'll be muddy," said my
mother. "It's been tipping down
all week. You'll need your
Wellies."
I thought of Frankie's
gleaming black riding boots
and crop.
"Well, what else are you
going to wear? Your school
lace-ups?" demanded my mother. "And take that
scowl off your face, young lady."
That night I dreamt of the gymkhana and of
Frankie in her breeches and boots, applying her
crop. She was in hunting pink, clearing the fences,
jumping a clear round, flashing even white teeth
above her red rosette.
32
Behind her came Larry, fierce as a tomcat in her
red plaits, jumping higher and higher over each
obstacle. Until the last, when Judy stopped dead.
Her mother gripped my arm as we watched. Larry
tried her again with the crop. Again Judy refused.
Larry soared straight over her head and ended up
in a heap.
For two seconds there
was silence, and then her
mother kicked off her heels
and ran, swift as an athlete,
to get there first. Larry lay
stone still. I tried to join her,
but was stopped at the
barrier. "You can't go there,
Missy," said a steward.
"But she's... she's my best friend." I gulped. He
shook his head gently and placed a huge hand on
my shoulder. I knew then what he would not say.
That morning I woke up with three finger-
shaped bruises on my arm. They were still tender
to the touch as I pulled on my blue Arran jumper.
It was one of those typical Dartmoor days
sodden with driving rain. By mid-morning though,
the cloud had lifted to reveal the soft duck-egg
blue of an open sky. Way above planes droned
like bees.
Frankie's mother picked me up promptly,
looking glamorous in big shades and pearls and
wearing a linen frock. Frankie had been at the
ground since first thing. My own mother looked
like a rumpled teenager in creased jeans and T-
shirt with her bed-head hair.
Frankie's mother smiled at me and spoke
crisply to my mother.
"I'll drop Patricia off at about six o'clock this
evening. Will that be alright, Mrs Doublesmith?'
Mum nodded.
It was a silent journey I didn't know quite what
to say. I fingered the bruises on my arm.
Puzzling.
The sun was blazing on the ground
by the time we arrived. There were lots
of ponies, lots of horses, lots of
horseboxes, lots of dogs, lots of people,
lots of grass and lots of waiting. I hadn't
been prepared for that. I was thirsty, but
didn't have any pocket money on me
and didn't want to ask.
"Shall we go over and see Frankie and Romal
then?"
I nodded. This was what it was all about. The
pony. The event.
We stalked off. Finally, after row upon row of
horseboxes, there was Romal. He looked fed up
already. I felt for him.
 - -
"When are you on, darling?"
"Only half-an-hour to go, Mummy."
"I'll leave you two girls together then." She
smiled and waltzed off.
There was nothing to do - except wait. I shifted
from one leg to the other.
"Is it always like this?" The question popped
out of my mouth unformed.
Frankie gulped and nodded, unable to speak.
"Francesca darling, aren't you mounted yet?"
Her mother's voice rang out.
"Yes Mummy." Frankie scrambled into her
saddle.
"Good luck Frankie!"
She didn't even see me as she rode off to the
arena. She was that spooked. I wished I was up my
most favourite tree, the 'Bird's Nest', the one with
the lookout, reading a good book. I wandered
over to the arena. A wisp of hay floated past and
lodged in the mud at my feet. It smelt hot and
stale and sweaty. A horse stopped and urinated
two feet away from me. Frankie's mother was
smoking with a group of other mothers, all talking
and laughing as if they were at a tea-party. I
longed for a glass of water with ice; something;
anything. I felt like a walk-on in a school play. I
wished I were anywhere but here. I sat down on a
bale of hay at the edge of the ring.
The next event finally began late. Frankie was
last to go. She was deathly pale and sat as if she
had a spike up her saddle. She cleared her round
and with one jump left to go.....
Suddenly I was sitting by a different arena. The
ground beneath me was slippery and wet, with the
crowd sheltering beneath huge candy-striped
umbrellas. I looked up and there was Larry, her
round glasses steaming in the deluge, her red
pigtails like drowned rats' tails. "Larry!" I stood up
and waved. She saw me sitting at the front and
waved back. I felt ridiculously pleased that she'd
seen me.
She was much so better than Frankie. Even I
could see that. She sat better. She made her
jumps faster. I roared myself hoarse cheering her
on. She bent over and whispered to Judy as she
approached her last jump. She'd made better time
than anyone else. I stood up to see her final jump.
As the pony landed on the muddy ground she
stumbled. Larry somersaulted over her head
33
dropping head first onto the ground. The woman
next to me gripped my arm hard... and I knew it
was her mother. Judy thrashed about, then found
her feet. Larry lay still. As if in a dream, I watched
her mother rip off her shoes and run heavily
towards her......
I stood up slowly, blinked and shook heavy
raindrops out of my fringe. My Arran sweater was
sodden. Yet here I was back in bright sunshine
watching Romal refuse the same jump. Frankie
clung like a clam to him, and was reversing him
slowly to make another attempt. His ears were
back, a bad sign. 'Don't do it!' I longed to yell, but
my throat was dry. My sweater steamed in the hot
sunshine. It ponged like an old dog. I wanted to
take it off. I was scared that if I did, Larry would
fall. If I carried on watching her then she wouldn't
- couldn't. It couldn't happen twice in seconds.
Could it?
I felt hot. Very hot. Too hot.
As Romal gathered himself to jump, I held my
breath and blanked out. Everything went black
and still like a silent movie. I fainted. I came to as a
storm of clapping subsided. A bale of hay had
broken my fall. In the excitement of the moment,
no-one had even noticed me. Frankie had
completed her round and made first place. I
pulled my sweater off and tottered over to the
toilet block. Nothing made sense. I splashed my
face with tepid water and drank from the tap. I
longed for the fusty familiarity of home.
Seven days later the Headmistress, Miss Price,
called me and Frankie in to her office first thing
one morning and informed us gravely of Hilary's
death. A tragedy, she said, a terrible tragedy for
one so young. I stood transfixed. She read out her
name in school assembly later that day and held a
minute's silence. Frankie promptly burst into tears
and had to be taxied home.
I had floated in my protective bubble of silence
from that day to this - until now.
This morning I woke to fresh bruises on my
arm, three finger-shaped ones.
Source:
http://www.shortbreadstories.co.uk/story/view/colour_
me_blue/#axzz43435vw9E
 - -
In a little district west of Washington Square the
streets have run crazy and broken themselves into
small strips called "places." These "places" make
strange angles and curves. One Street crosses
itself a time or two. An artist once discovered a
valuable possibility in this street. Suppose a
collector with a bill for paints, paper and canvas
should, in traversing this route, suddenly meet
himself coming back, without a cent having been
paid on account!
So, to quaint old Greenwich Village
the art people soon came prowling,
hunting for north windows and
eighteenth-century gables and Dutch
attics and low rents. Then they
imported some pewter mugs and a
chafing dish or two from Sixth Avenue,
and became a "colony."
At the top of a squatty, three-story
brick Sue and Johnsy had their studio.
"Johnsy" was familiar for Joanna. One
was from Maine; the other from
California. They had met at the table
d'hte of an Eighth Street
"Delmonico's," and found their tastes
in art, chicory salad and bishop sleeves
so congenial that the joint studio resulted.
That was in May. In November a cold, unseen
stranger, whom the doctors called Pneumonia,
stalked about the colony, touching one here and
there with his icy fingers. Over on the east side
this ravager strode boldly, smiting his victims by
scores, but his feet trod slowly through the maze
of the narrow and moss-grown "places."
Mr. Pneumonia was not what you would call a
chivalric old gentleman. A mite of a little woman
with blood thinned by California zephyrs was
hardly fair game for the red-fisted, short-breathed
old duffer. But Johnsy he smote; and she lay,
scarcely moving, on her painted iron bedstead,
looking through the small Dutch window-panes at
the blank side of the next brick house.
One morning the busy doctor invited Sue into
the hallway with a shaggy, grey eyebrow.
"She has one chance in - let us say, ten," he
said, as he shook down the mercury in his clinical
thermometer. "And that chance is for her to want
to live. This way people have of lining-u on the
side of the undertaker makes the entire
pharmacopoeia look silly. Your little lady has made
34
The Last Leaf by O. Henry
up her mind that she's not going to get well. Has
she anything on her mind?"
"She - she wanted to paint the Bay of Naples
some day." said Sue.
"Paint? - bosh! Has she anything on her mind
worth thinking twice - a man for instance?"
"A man?" said Sue, with a jew's-harp twang in
her voice. "Is a man worth - but, no, doctor; there
is nothing of the kind."
"Well, it is the weakness, then," said the
doctor. "I will do all that science, so
far as it may filter through my
efforts, can accomplish. But
whenever my patient begins to
count the carriages in her funeral
procession I subtract 50 per cent
from the curative power of
medicines. If you will get her to ask
one question about the new winter
styles in cloak sleeves I will promise
you a one-in-five chance for her,
instead of one in ten."
After the doctor had gone Sue
went into the workroom and cried
a Japanese napkin to a pulp. Then
she swaggered into Johnsy's room
with her drawing board, whistling ragtime.
Johnsy lay, scarcely making a ripple under the
bedclothes, with her face toward the window. Sue
stopped whistling, thinking she was asleep.
She arranged her board and began a pen-and-
ink drawing to illustrate a magazine story. Young
artists must pave their way to Art by drawing
pictures for magazine stories that young authors
write to pave their way to Literature.
As Sue was sketching a pair of elegant
horseshow riding trousers and a monocle of the
figure of the hero, an Idaho cowboy, she heard a
low sound, several times repeated. She went
quickly to the bedside.
Johnsy's eyes were open wide. She was looking
out the window and counting - counting
backward.
"Twelve," she said, and little later "eleven"; and
then "ten," and "nine"; and then "eight" and
"seven", almost together.
Sue look solicitously out of the window. What
was there to count? There was only a bare, dreary
yard to be seen, and the blank side of the brick
house twenty feet away. An old, old ivy vine,
gnarled and decayed at the roots, climbed half
 - -
way up the brick wall. The cold breath of autumn
had stricken its leaves from the vine until its
skeleton branches clung, almost bare, to the
crumbling bricks.
"What is it, dear?" asked Sue.
"Six," said Johnsy, in almost a whisper. "They're
falling faster now. Three days ago there were
almost a hundred. It made my head ache to count
them. But now it's easy. There goes another one.
There are only five left now."
"Five what, dear? Tell your Sudie."
"Leaves. On the ivy vine. When
the last one falls I must go, too. I've
known that for three days. Didn't
the doctor tell you?"
"Oh, I never heard of such
nonsense," complained Sue, with
magnificent scorn. "What have old
ivy leaves to do with your getting
well? And you used to love that vine
so, you naughty girl. Don't be a
goosey. Why, the doctor told me
this morning that your chances for
getting well real soon were - let's
see exactly what he said - he said
the chances were ten to one! Why,
that's almost as good a chance as we have in New
York when we ride on the street cars or walk past a
new building. Try to take some broth now, and let
Sudie go back to her drawing, so she can sell the
editor man with it, and buy port wine for her sick
child, and pork chops for her greedy self."
"You needn't get any more wine," said Johnsy,
keeping her eyes fixed out the window. "There
goes another. No, I don't want any broth. That
leaves just four. I want to see the last one fall
before it gets dark. Then I'll go, too."
"Johnsy, dear," said Sue, bending over her,
"will you promise me to keep your eyes closed,
and not look out the window until I am done
working? I must hand those drawings in by to-
morrow. I need the light, or I would draw the
shade down."
"Couldn't you draw in the other room?" asked
Johnsy, coldly.
"I'd rather be here by you," said Sue. "Besides, I
don't want you to keep looking at those silly ivy
leaves."
"Tell me as soon as you have finished," said
Johnsy, closing her eyes, and lying white and still
as fallen statue, "because I want to see the last
one fall. I'm tired of waiting. I'm tired of thinking. I
want to turn loose my hold on everything, and go
sailing down, down, just like one of those poor,
tired leaves."
35
"Try to sleep," said Sue. "I must call Behrman
up to be my model for the old hermit miner. I'll
not be gone a minute. Don't try to move 'til I
come back."
Old Behrman was a painter who lived on the
ground floor beneath them. He was past sixty and
had a Michael Angelo's Moses beard curling down
from the head of a satyr along with the body of an
imp. Behrman was a failure in art. Forty years he
had wielded the brush without getting near
enough to touch the hem of his
Mistress's robe. He had been
always about to paint a
masterpiece, but had never yet
begun it. For several years he had
painted nothing except now and
then a daub in the line of
commerce or advertising. He
earned a little by serving as a
model to those young artists in
the colony who could not pay the
price of a professional. He drank
gin to excess, and still talked of
his coming masterpiece. For the
rest he was a fierce little old man,
who scoffed terribly at softness in
any one, and who regarded himself as especial
mastiff-in-waiting to protect the two young artists
in the studio above.
Sue found Behrman smelling strongly of
juniper berries in his dimly lighted den below. In
one corner was a blank canvas on an easel that
had been waiting there for twenty-five years to
receive the first line of the masterpiece. She told
him of Johnsy's fancy, and how she feared she
would, indeed, light and fragile as a leaf herself,
float away, when her slight hold upon the world
grew weaker.
Old Behrman, with his red eyes plainly
streaming, shouted his contempt and derision for
such idiotic imaginings.
"Vass!" he cried. "Is dere people in de world mit
der foolishness to die because leafs dey drop off
from a confounded vine? I haf not heard of such a
thing. No, I will not bose as a model for your fool
hermit-dunderhead. Vy do you allow dot silly
pusiness to come in der brain of her? Ach, dot
poor leetle Miss Yohnsy."
"She is very ill and weak," said Sue, "and the
fever has left her mind morbid and full of strange
fancies. Very well, Mr. Behrman, if you do not care
to pose for me, you needn't. But I think you are a
horrid old - old flibbertigibbet."
"You are just like a woman!" yelled Behrman.
"Who said I will not bose? Go on. I come mit you.
For half an hour I haf peen trying to say dot I am
 - -
ready to bose. Gott! dis is not any blace in which
one so goot as Miss Yohnsy shall lie sick. Some
day I vill baint a masterpiece, and ve shall all go
away. Gott! yes."
Johnsy was sleeping when they went upstairs.
Sue pulled the shade down to the window-sill, and
motioned Behrman into the other room. In there
they peered out the window fearfully at the ivy
vine. Then they looked at each other for a
moment without speaking. A persistent, cold rain
was falling, mingled with snow. Behrman, in his
old blue shirt, took his seat as the hermit miner on
an upturned kettle for a rock.
When Sue awoke from an hour's sleep the next
morning she found Johnsy with dull, wide-open
eyes staring at the drawn green shade.
"Pull it up; I want to see," she ordered, in a
whisper.
Wearily Sue obeyed.
But, lo! after the beating rain and fierce gusts
of wind that had endured through the livelong
night, there yet stood out against the brick wall
one ivy leaf. It was the last one on the vine. Still
dark green near its stem, with its serrated edges
tinted with the yellow of dissolution and decay, it
hung bravely from the branch some twenty feet
above the ground.
"It is the last one," said Johnsy. "I thought it
would surely fall during the night. I heard the
wind. It will fall to-day, and I shall die at the same
time."
"Dear, dear!" said Sue, leaning her worn face
down to the pillow, "think of me, if you won't
think of yourself. What would I do?"
But Johnsy did not answer. The lonesomest
thing in all the world is a soul when it is making
ready to go on its mysterious, far journey. The
fancy seemed to possess her more strongly as one
by one the ties that bound her to friendship and
to earth were loosed.
The day wore away, and even through the
twilight they could see the lone ivy leaf clinging to
its stem against the wall. And then, with the
coming of the night the north wind was again
loosed, while the rain still beat against the
windows and pattered down from the low Dutch
eaves.
When it was light enough Johnsy, the
merciless, commanded that the shade be raised.
The ivy leaf was still there.
36
Johnsy lay for a long time looking at it. And
then she called to Sue, who was stirring her
chicken broth over the gas stove.
"I've been a bad girl, Sudie," said Johnsy.
"Something has made that last leaf stay there to
show me how wicked I was. It is a sin to want to
die. You may bring a me a little broth now, and
some milk with a little port in it, and - no; bring
me a hand-mirror first, and then pack some
pillows about me, and I will sit up and watch you
cook."
And hour later she said:
"Sudie, someday I hope to paint the Bay of
Naples."
The doctor came in the afternoon, and Sue had
an excuse to go into the hallway as he left.
"Even chances," said the doctor, taking Sue's
thin, shaking hand in his. "With good nursing
you'll win." And now I must see another case I
have downstairs. Behrman, his name is - some
kind of an artist, I believe. Pneumonia, too. He is
an old, weak man, and the attack is acute. There is
no hope for him; but he goes to the hospital to-
day to be made more comfortable."
The next day the doctor said to Sue: "She's out
of danger. You won. Nutrition and care now -
that's all."
And that afternoon Sue came to the bed where
Johnsy lay, contentedly knitting a very blue and
very useless woollen shoulder scarf, and put one
arm around her, pillows and all.
"I have something to tell you, white mouse,"
she said. "Mr. Behrman died of pneumonia to-day
in the hospital. He was ill only two days. The
janitor found him the morning of the first day in
his room downstairs helpless with pain. His shoes
and clothing were wet through and icy cold. They
couldn't imagine where he had been on such a
dreadful night. And then they found a lantern, still
lighted, and a ladder that had been dragged from
its place, and some scattered brushes, and a
palette with green and yellow colours mixed on it,
and - look out the window, dear, at the last ivy leaf
on the wall. Didn't you wonder why it never
fluttered or moved when the wind blew? Ah,
darling, it's Behrman's masterpiece - he painted it
there the night that the last leaf fell.
Source: http://www.eastoftheweb.com/short-
stories/UBooks/LasLea.shtml
 - -
There was a rhythmic tapping at the door
which Frances recognized as Mrs. Baca's, one of
her neighbors in the projects. Frances turned off
the stove, swooped the headless Barbie doll from
the kitchen floor and went to open the door.
"Come on in, Mrs. Baca," she said, holding the
screen door open for the large grey-haired
woman in the colorful muumuu.
"Buenos dias, Frances!" Mrs. Baca shuffled
across the entrance in cloth slippers, rustling a
folded newspaper she used as a fan.
"Sorry it's so hot in here, the cooler's not
working," Frances said, more out of concern for
Mrs. Baca's comfort than as a complaint. The
cooler was constantly breaking down and she had
learned to adapt to the humid indoor heat.
"Don' worry about me," Mrs. Baca said, her
fanning increasing as she moved farther into the
entry way, "I'm jus' gonna be a minute." She
inhaled the smell of fried egg and chorizo that
permeated the house and let out an inadvertent
"Umm."
"My mom's in the bathroom combing Rosie's
hair."
"I gotta show her this!" Mrs. Baca said, holding
up the paper. She smiled as though she were the
only person who had seen the paper this morning.
"Frances," she said, suddenly grabbing her arm,
"you wanna see?" Without waiting for an answer,
she unfolded The Desert Chronicle and held it in
front of her chest. "It's la Gracie!"
Frances politely glanced at the large black and
white photo that stood out from the other articles.
To her surprise, Grace looked stunning. She gave
the impression of a queen or movie star in her
jeweled tiara, pearl drop earrings and matching
necklace. A sleeveless satin dress covered her
bosom and her dark, sleek hair dipped perfectly
into her bare shoulders. Her face showed no
traces of the blemishes Frances noticed at school.
Grace smiled a carefree dimpled smile and stared
directly at you as though she had never had to be
ashamed of anything in her sweet sixteen years.
Frances wanted to throw the paper in the trash.
"She's our primera, our only one, ever, Frances!
It even says it here in the paper. And do you know
that she gets all A's and she's even going to
reporters' college? No, them other girls that's
37
Grace by Carmen Morones
been in the last few days dont even come close."
Frances wanted to say, "She's not one of us.
She's a socie and she may as well be white. She
and her kind act as if us Mexicans at school don't
even exist. Why should I care if she's running for
Homecoming queen?" But she didnt know how to
say it, so she kept quiet.
"Oh! I better hurry - I tol' Seora Garcia I'd have
caf with her this morning - Alicia!" Mrs. Baca
called out, then suddenly cupped her hand over
her mouth. "Dios mio, I almos' forgot your papa's
sleeping," she whispered.
"It's okay. He's on day shift again at the plant."
"Que bueno! Those graveyard shif's are awful.
They make em so nervous, no? Gracia a dios, my
Roberto has only two more years before
retiremen'." Mrs. Baca fanned herself vigorously
with the newspaper. "Alicia!"
Alicia Segura, still in curlers, looked out of the
bathroom doorway. "Ah - Seora Baca - horita
voy! I'm almost done with Rosie's hair."
"Would you like an egg and chorizo burrito,
Mrs. Baca?" Frances offered.
"No, gracias, I ate jus' a little while ago."
"Do you want to sit down in the living room
while you wait for my mom?"
"No, gracias, I'll jus' wait right here," Mrs. Baca
said, fanning herself again.
"Yoohoo!" Frances' friend Della called through
the open door, her face pressed against the
screen.
Frances grabbed her purse and notebook and
dashed out the door.
"Hi, Della," she said, welcoming the dry outdoor
heat. Gato, the high school dropout across the
street was revving his Chevy. The blast of gasoline
smell assaulted Frances' senses. Even though he
did this every morning, she had not gotten used
to it and was glad when he shot away to his job at
the gas station, taking his stink with him. She
could now discern the sweet talc fragrance of
Della's perfume.
"Girl, you look sharp!" Della said, lifting a long
strand of Frances' brown hair which today was
wavy. "You perm it?"
 - -
"I braided it last night while it was wet," she
said, walking away from the house.
"I oughta do that," Della said, lifting a handful
of her own hair from her shoulders and twirling it
around her finger. The blue-black strands
shone in the sun as she contemplated what
they would look like wavy.
"You'd look outasight," Frances said,
playfully flattening the hump of ratted hair
on top of Della's head.
"Then we'd really be twinsies," Della said,
raising her foot and thumping her finger on
her four-inch-high cork wedgies, identical to
Frances'.
"And I'd look taller than you," Frances
teased.
"No way," Della softly shoved Frances
away. "I'm keeping my hair just like it is," she
said, stopping to stare at herself in the window of
the old dusty Corvair in the driveway.
Frances dipped into her shoulder bag and
came out with a pint-sized bottle of patchouli oil.
"My mom and dad can't stand for me to wear
this," she said, dabbing the strong resin-like smell
behind her ears. Della pinched her nose in a
teasing manner.
"You have something against hippies too?!"
Frances bared her teeth, mimicking a madwoman
and went after Della with her little open bottle of
patchouli.
Della backed away, fumbling in her purse for
her bottle of perfume. She aimed her Maja at
Frances and sprayed freely, without regard for the
price of replacing it since she regularly shoplifted
it from the pharmacy.
Frances ducked out of the way, missing the
talc-smelling spray. She advanced again toward
Della, her forefinger shiny with the essential oil.
Della kept spraying. Frances covered her face with
one arm and braved the mist on her hair in order
to dab Della. Even though Della wrestled Frances'
arm, she was not able to avoid the oil on her
forehead. The girls burst out laughing, waving
away the strong, conflicting fragrances.
Della crammed her perfume back in her black
purse which was already stuffed to capacity and
emerged with a handful of Bazooka bubble gum.
"I almost forgot," she said, dropping them in
Frances' bag.
"I'll buy tomorrow," Frances promised, ripping
the red, white and blue wrapper off a piece which
38
she quickly chewed until the tough little square
softened into juicy sweetness. She read the comic
and fortune that came underneath the wrapper.
Della, who was doing the same, blew a bubble
and then spoke. "Mine
says: you will travel to
exciting faraway places.
How about yours?"
No one knows what
he can do til -" Frances
stopped in mid-sentence
when she heard her
mother, who was
escorting Mrs. Baca out
the door, yell for them to
get going.
"Does my slip show?"
asked Della, turning so
Frances could see the
back hem of her short skirt.
"You're okay, how about mine?"
"Nah. "
The friends hurried to get out of McKinley
Court, their steps wobbly in their high wedgies.
The road that led from the projects toward school
was on a hill which they had to descend. From
here they could see the gravel rooftops of the
houses below, the intersecting of the highway
with Main Street where crowded signs advertised
gas, fast food and motels. In the distance beyond,
railroad tracks crossed the vast desert of Joshua
trees to the Calico Mountains where the American
Chemical Plant shone like a steel toy in the sun.
"Did you see the coconut in the paper?" Della
asked, smacking her gum.
"Mrs. Baca came over and announced it this
morning," Frances said, scrunching her face with
disapproval.
"Girl, the old man fucking put the paper in my
face! Why can't you be more like Grace instead of
a pinche loca he had the nerve to ask! That little
kiss-ass makes me wanna puke!"
"She thinks she's so hot because her parents
own that Mexican restaurant," Frances added,
blowing a bubble that burst.
"She dresses like a Tricia Nixon clone with those
stupid headbands and A-line dresses."
Frances' tone was serious. "Do you think she's
as smart as it says in the paper?"
"Cause she's on the honor roll?" "Yeah, and
 - -
she's going to college."
"I don't think all them 'socies' get good grades
and are going to college because they're smart...
it' s the moola," Della said, rubbing her thumb
against her second and third fingers.
"Yeah ... if I had her money Id go to college too
and get the heck out of this hell hole," Frances
said with a faraway look in her eyes.
"I'd sure as hell dress better than her," Della
said, snapping her gum.
"Ever talked with her?" . Frances lowered her voice. "That's so hard to
Della shook her head. "Who the fuck needs
her? Puta!"
"Puta?"
"I seen her flirting with all the guys. She ever
even look at Gilbert-I'll kick her ass back to Santa
Barbara or wherever-the-fuck she came from!"
They burst out laughing.
In their homeroom class, the teacher
announced that campus recruiters from Los
Angeles would be giving a talk in the auditorium
after lunch break and all seniors were required to
attend. Frances and Della rolled their eyes:
another boring talk. They'd attended more boring
talks in the first five weeks of their senior year
than all the rest of high school put together. Their
plan was to skip the program but they quickly
changed their minds when they saw the imposing
figure of Mr. Powell, the school dean, searching
the hallways for stray students.
Frances and Della reluctantly entered the noisy
auditorium. They were annoyed by the
Homecoming hysteria that they felt had taken
over their town and school, and now took the
opportunity to protest by yanking the blue and
white crepe streamers that decorated the railing at
the bottom of the bleachers. The air-conditioned
room was so cold that it made Frances shiver.
They chose the bleachers that were the farthest
away from the stage and climbed with thumping
steps to the highest row. They sat down, chewed
another piece of gum and prepared themselves
for the ensuing hour: Della filing her fingernails
and Frances doodling in her notebook. As soon as
the principal appeared beneath the GO SPARTANS
GO! banner on the stage, the girls heard nothing
beyond their own conversation.
"Girl!" Della said as though she'd just
remembered something important. "Guess what
Cooksie told me in history class just a little while
ago?!"
39
"What?!"
"Guess!!"
"I don't know - Bobby, the hunk, broke up with
his ugly girlfriend?"
"Even better!" Della whispered in Frances' ear:
"Candy Schmidt is preggers!"
"Liar!" Frances blurted, playfully shoving Della.
"I swear!" Della stopped filing her nails and
looked at Frances with a serious face.
believe. How'd Cooksie know?"
"Her sister Arlene filed the lab report at the
doctor's office where she works."
"But she's still running for queen as if nothing's
happened."
"What do you expect shell probably go
somewhere and get an abortion."
Frances suddenly felt sorry for Candy, sensing it
must be awful to be in that situation. But instead
of saying something to Della, she looked towards
the stage. A tall, blond man wearing a suit was
standing at the microphone. He was saying
something about test scores.
"Fuck that shit!" Della whispered. "You're not
kidding," Frances added.
"Hey, how'd you do on that lousy typing test
anyway?" Della asked. "I think I blew it. That bitch,
Mrs. Crawford, stood right behind me the whole
time and made me nervous. How about you?"
"I think I totally fucked up. I broke my nail and
that was it. I don't give a shit about that friggin
class anyway." Della said sarcastically, "I'm sure I'm
gonna be a secretary!"
A woman in a navy blue suit who reminded
Frances of stewardesses in commercials now took
over the microphone. She kept repeating, "Get
ahead of the competition."
"Which little kiss-ass cheerleader do you think's
gonna be queen?" Della asked, shaking her bottle
of fingernail polish.
"To be honest, Della," Frances said,
concentrating on the large psychedelic bird she
was drawing, "I think it's stupid."
"Yeah, you're right. But that's all everybody in
this stupid town is talking about."
Frances sketched with quick, furious strokes. "I
hate school! I hate football! I hate this boring
town!"
 - -
"Girl, I hear you." She nudged Frances. "Look,
there's the coconut."
"Where?"
"See - with the white headband - over in the
front row." Della pointed with her chin to the back
of Grace's head.
Frances squinted. She was near-sighted and
distant images were fuzzy. She pulled the edges of
her eyelids, trying to bring Grace into focus. She
was too far and remained a mass of blurred brown
hair. "Who's she with? I can't see that far."
Della learned forward and moved her head in
various directions trying to see the profile of the
guy who sat next to Grace. "I think ... it's ... that
jock... Tim Wilson. Yeah, it's him."
Frances crinkled her nose. "He thinks he's
God's gift."
"Hey!" Della said. "There's Billy White!"
"Where?!"
"By the side bleachers, near the exit," she said,
pointing with her bottle of nail polish.
Frances pulled her eyelids again. Billy's reddish-
blond hair came into focus. His were the longest
locks at Rimrock High, for which he braved
suspension for not keeping them above his collar.
He liked to shake his head as he walked down the
hallways as if to remind himself that he was
different from the majority, if not superior. Frances
was surprised to see him at the assembly, sitting
with his friend Doobie, since he had a car and
could easily have skipped it. "That jerk!" she said
beneath her breath.
"What? Last week he was Mr. Outasight."
"That's before I really thought about what
happened."
"What do you mean?" Della, who was opening
her bottle of fingernail polish, stopped.
Frances bit on her pencil. "Oh, I don't know. He
was late to pick me up ... he didn't take me to a
movie like I expected."
"That's how all the guys are around here," Della
said, "applying a coat of bright red polish to a
fingernail. "Cheapskates."
"Gilbert doesn't seem that way."
"I mean the white paddies, like the ones I went
out with before Gilbert."
"That jerk," Frances repeated, looking in his
direction. "He drove me out to Flattop Canyon
40
and we started making out ... which was okay. But
then he tried to screw me. I had to wrestle the guy
even though I said no. He kept saying, 'What's
wrong with you? I thought you Mexican chicks
were supposed to be real hot lovers.' And he tried
to make me feel like I should be grateful he went
out with me. He called me a 'prick tease.' And I felt
awful when he dropped me home early. 'Later
chick.' Those were his last words. 'Later chick.
Frances' eyes almost filled with tears when she
said this.
"How come you never said nothing before?"
Della's voice was soft.
"I don't know. I felt kind of weird."
Della put her hand on Frances' shoulder and
gently squeezed it. "You're too good for that
asshole."
"Thanks Del." Frances felt relief to tell her best
friend and yet some questions remained. Why had
Billy rejected her? Was it really because she hadn't
done it with him? Girls who screwed were the
exception, not the rule. Did he think she was ugly?
He didn't even give her a chance! And she still felt
very attracted to him. She was angry with him, yet
her heart quickened when she rememberd the
two of them on the blanket under the moonlight
at Flattop Canyon. His sea-blue eyes, his soft,
warm lips. It wasn't any use to think about him,
she could never have him. She pulled her gaze
away from Billy and towards the stage.
The next speaker was a young man in a white
shirt and tie who looked Mexican. He introduced
himself as Juan Rios and began his speech by
saying that anyone could go to college.
"Let's hear this," Frances said with interest, as
she had never heard anyone say this before.
"High school sucks-college sucks," Della said,
blowing on her fingernail, wet with bright red
polish.
"Shhh."
"Shhh yourself."
Frances heard the recruiter's words loud and
clear: "Anyone can go to college. Don't ever let
the lack of money stop you. There are
scholarships, grants and loans to help the needy
student." Could that mean me? she asked herself.
Could I go to art school? She imagined herself in
a large college studio, light shooting in from
skylights and arched windows like she'd seen in
books. A nude male model is holding one pose
after another, his taut muscles rippling with every
 - -
change. She is sketching faster and more twice as hard as those college-bounds. We got no
accurately than she has ever sketched before. She preparation. Bust our asses -that's all we'll end up
is learning how to stretch her own canvas and doing - and for what?"
getting instruction in oils and acrylics, mediums
"Shit - I don't know. Forget I ever mentioned
she has always wanted to try but has not been
it," Frances said without any bad feelings. She was
able to afford. She is sitting in a coffee house with
used to having ideas that went nowhere.
other students, talking passionately about art.
Only when she heard the ending applause did she They stopped in the rest room. The place was
come back to the reality of the auditorium. stuffy and smelled like someone had been
smoking in there recently and tried to hide the
Frances was stunned and unusually quiet as
odor by spraying cheap cologne. Tinkling sounds
she and Della descended the bleachers. Della
alternated with the powerful swoosh of flushing
didn't seem to notice as she was waving to some
toilets. Ann Taylor, a tall, slender cheerleader
of her friends. It wasn't until they were filing out
wearing her blue and white uniform burst out of a
of the stuffy auditorium, behind hordes of other
stall and almost bumped into Della as she ran to
students, that Frances finally spoke. "Can you
take a quick peek at herself in the mirror. Della
believe that guy just said anyone can go to
glared at her but she didn't seem to notice.
college?!" she asked Della.
"Hjole, I didn't think I looked this bad," Della
"Who the fuck wants to go to college?" Della
said, staring at herself in the mirror. "My blush's
asked, looking behind her toward the students
rubbed off - my eyeliner's smeared - my lips don't
still exiting from the auditorium.
hardly have color. I look pale as a white paddie."
Frances grabbed Della's arm and pulled her She dumped the contents of her purse on the
near the hallway wall, away from the chattering, counter above the sink and picked out the make-
hurrying students. "Listen, Della, if we could go to up she intended to use.
college in L.A., would you want to?"
"You look good," Frances said. She was wetting
"I'm sick of school and I thought you were her hair and twirling it with her finger strand by
too." Della looked puzzled. "But I heard college is strand. "I'm the one who looks awful. I can't
better than high school. And what if you could believe this friggin heat has already made my hair
study something you really liked?" go limp." When she realized her hair was not
going to curl, she brushed it instead while she
"Like what?" Della asked, looking down at her
waited for Della to finish putting on her make-up.
bright red fingernails.
Della was pressing her bright red lips into a
"I don't know ... like ... like ... like art!"
paper towel, to take off the excess color she'd just
"You're the artist, girl, not me. Besides, they applied.
don't let just anybody in -you gotta take some
"You know, Della, you could pass for white, if
lousy test - didn't you hear the guy say?" Della
you wanted to."
started walking again.
"Why'd I wanna do that, they're ugly," Della
Frances walked alongside her. "But the Mexican
joked.
guy said you could go to community college first...
all you need is a diploma. Isn't Frances laughed.
there a college where your aunt
They gathered their things and
lives in Santa Monica?"
went their separate ways: Della to
"I think so." Della was frowning. P.E. and Frances to Art.
"I thought our plan was to hang
Frances arrived for class five
out at the beach and do
minutes late and had to rush
waitressing at night. Now you have
around setting up her easel and
us going to school," Della said, a
watercolors. She was the only
little irritated.
student in her advanced art class who didn't wear
"Maybe we can start out with one or two painter's smocks and had to depend on the
classes. You know, see if we like it." materials the school provided. While most of the
other students dabbled in the oils and acrylics
"I don't know, Frances. I think college is a lousy
they brought to class, Frances had grown very
idea. Why should we bust our asses? Not only do
skilled in the use of watercolors. She was good at
we have to support ourselves, we gotta work

41
 - -
replicating landscapes from pictures in magazines
but preferred experimenting with the
spontaneous animals from her imagination which
she painted in bright complementary colors.
Miss Robinson, a tall, thin woman with short,
curly blonde hair that always seemed messy,
greeted her students. She surveyed her class with
blue piercing eyes as she made the
announcement that Frances Segura had won first
prize in the Downtown Business Association's
Homecoming art contest. Her painting of a huge
Spartan with a sword leading a trail of lizards and
snakes through a purple-hued desert was on
display at Brown's Department Store. The $100
award would be used to buy art supplies for the
class.
Frances couldn't believe Miss Robinson
meant her but it was her painting she had
just described. She was afraid to look at
her teacher or the other students, afraid
that they would somehow see that she
wasn't worthy of the prize. She was
concentrating on her work, dipping the
large wash brush in the grey watercolor
cake when Miss Robinson came over and
congratulated her. It wasn't a mistake or a
figment of her imagination, she had really
won. This was the first time she had ever
won anything in her life! Her spirit soared, then
suddenly plummeted when she thought about the
prize money. Why hadn't they given it to her?
Especially when she was the student who needed
it most. The sketchpads, pencils, pastels, brushes,
oils, canvas she could have bought with it! It
wasn't fair. But maybe there was a reason for why
they did this. She hadn't entered the painting
herself, Miss Robinson had, through the school.
The supplies she'd used belonged to the school.
She was trying to come up with more reasons
when a group of students came over and
congratulated her. Frances soared again! She had
never before gotten so much attention. She felt
special and so what if she hadn't gotten any
money. She changed her mind about the grey on
her brush, cleansed it in the water jar and
proceeded to spread a turquoise sky on her
paper. On the earth below, a fuchsia lizard with a
giant vibrant sunflower growing out of its back
crawled across the desert.
After class, Miss Robinson took Frances aside
and asked her if she had talked to her counselor
about the scholarship she'd announced a few days
ago.
"No, I don't think I stand a chance," Frances
42
replied.
You never know until you try. I'll be happy to
write you a letter of recommendation. As I've said
before, Frances, you have a lot of potential as an
artist."
But aren't there a lot of students trying for
that?"
"Yes, but you could be the one whose work
stands out."
Do you really think I should try?"
"Yes! Promise me you'll see your counselor."
Okay."
"Don't forget, the deadline is
next Friday."
When Frances got home from
school that day she told her
father the good news.
"I won a prize today," she said,
the wind from the cooler blowing
in her face.
Her father, in a white t-shirt
streaked with oil and grease
stains, was crouched by the
television set, trying to fix the dial
one of the kids had broken the
day before.
"Eh?" Her father said without looking up.
"I won a prize today."
"For what, mi india?"
"Don't call me that - I hate it!"
Her father looked up at her smirking, his shiny
black hair falling across his eyes. "I'm just kiddin'.
What'd you win?"
"I won-"
"No, let me guess - Gracie Olmos has the
measles and you're her stand-in.
"Andale, Frances, I need your help!" her mother
yelled from the kitchen.
Frances shook her head in exasperation, "You
just don't care," she mumbled repeatedly as she
stormed off to the bedroom she shared with her
little sister. She went into the closet and closed
the door. In the darkness, she felt safe. She stood
there, closing her eyes and pushing her feelings
deeper and deeper within herself until they were
as tiny as a mosquito she could smash with her
thumb. "I don't give a shit what he thinks," she
 - -
said to herself, tearing a tissue she'd had in her
pocket to shreds.
She changed into her house clothes and went
into the kitchen to help her mother prepare
dinner. Baby Petey was walking around the
kitchen putting his peanut butter and jelly
fingerprints on everything. Her mother, wearing a
faded pink gingham smock that did more to
reveal her pregnancy than hide it, was standing at
the sink washing potatoes.
"Frances, hurry and help me peel these
potatoes if we're gonna eat dinner tonight."
"I hear you, mom!"
"Don't get sassy with me, young lady!"
"I'm not ... I'm sorry," Frances said, taking the
bowl of potatoes to the kitchen table.
"I heard you say something about a prize," her
mother said, softening her tone.
"It's no big deal," Frances said, scraping the
peel off a potato. "Frances, don't be like that," her
mother said, shaking spices into the hamburger
meat.
"I won a prize in art."
"That's great, Frances, be sure you cut those
potatoes sliver thin, you know the kids don't like
'em fat - so, what did you win?
"It's more of an award. They gave some money
to the class."
"Frances, could you wipe Petey's hands?"
Frances tried to wipe Petey's hands with a
paper napkin but he started crying.
"Here, you take over the burgers. I don't want
your father coming here and growling at us. Petey,
ven 'aca, mijo. Let mommy clean your hands and
she'll give you a pickle."
"My painting is on display at Brown's
Department store."
"That's nice, Frances." Alicia was squatting
uncomfortably, cleaning Petey's hands with a wet
dish rag.
"My teacher told me I should apply for a
scholarship to college."
"College?" Her mother shut the refrigerator
door. Momentarily speechless, she stood hugging
the jar of pickles. "You never said nothing about
college before. Mija we need you at home,
especially when the new baby comes.
Frances felt torn between wanting to help her
43
mother who always seemed tired from all the
housework she had to do and wanting to go to
college. She sensed that she would probably end
up like her mother if she didn't do something
about it now. "But mom, this could be the chance
of a lifetime. My teacher even said she'd write me
a letter of recommendation."
"I don't know," she said, handing Petey a pickle,
"talk to your dad."
After dinner Frances approached her father,
who was sitting in front of the noisy television
watching boxing.
"Dad?" she said, standing a few feet away from
the frayed plaid lazy-boy where he sat.
"Eh? What you need?" he said, staring ahead at
the TV.
"I don't mean to interrupt but...I mean ... my
teacher thinks I should apply for a scholarship to
college."
"Eh?"
"College."
"What you need college for, eh? You're just
gonna find yourself a husband and get married
anyway."
"I don't want to get married," she said, crossing
her arms.
Yeah, sure. Just dont let yourself get knocked
up, eh?" He turned to look at her for the first time
during their conversation and shook his finger.
"She'd heard this warning before and she felt
like yelling her usual reply: Im not that stupid!"
Instead, she kept her feelings bottled up, as she
did not want to ruin her chances of going to
college. "I want to go to college."
"Your mama needs you here," he said, staring at
the TV again.
But I dont want to. I mean ... I could have a
chance at this scholarship.
What you gonna study?"
The shouting from the television rose. Her
father suddenly sat up and yelled at the TV,
"Pegale, Ali, Pegale!"
Frances waited for the excitement to die down.
"I want to study A...Art."
"Art? Que locuras!" He was shaking his head.
"Why don't you study something useful like
nursing or teaching. An artist? You gonna starve.
You crazy or something?"
 - -
"My teacher says I have potential."
"You don't think she says that to all the
students? That's what they pay her for."
"I want to study art."
"It's too expensive."
"I know. That's why I want this scholarship."
"What scholarship?"
"That's what I've been trying to tell you."
"Okay, Frances, you get that scholarship," he
said, chuckling, "and I'll let you go to college. Now
let me get back to the fights."
Frances thought that even if he was kidding
she'd hold him to it if she got that scholarship.
Before going to sleep, she said a special prayer
to her patron saint, Francis of Assisi. The next day,
she went to talk with her counselor.
Mr. Lobauer sat behind a big desk; a part-time
coach, he had a perennial tan. "The UCLA
scholarship? There's
terrible competition
for that. Terrible
competition. I don't
think you stand a
chance. What'd you
say your name was?"
"Frances."
"Well, Frances. Let
me put it to you this way. You're competing
against the Gordon Smiths, the Matt Bernsteins,
the Grace Olmos' of this school."
"But I thought it was an arts scholarship. I
mean...I didn't know Gordon or Matt or Grace
were art students."
"I meant it as a manner of speaking, dear. There
are students such as those here who have great
academic and extracurricular backgrounds."
"I thought being a good artist was the most
important thing."
"Yes ... you must have some ability but you
must also prove you're going to succeed. That's
the most important thing these schools are
looking for."
"What do you mean?"
"Well...the scholarship is intended for someone
with proven ability to succeed: high grades,
experience in school organizations. I don't recall
your name about school."
44
Frances swallowed hard. "I think my grades are
... uh ... okay - but I've always gotten A's in art.
And I just won the art contest put on by the
Downtown Business Association."
"I don't really think you qualify."
"Ms. Robinson told me I should apply."
"To be honest, you'll be wasting your time."
"But I really need that scholarship."
"I know, dear, but so do hundreds of other
students."
"Hundreds?! I... I...thanks a lot for your time."
"You're welcome, dear. Glad I could help."
Frances grabbed her books off the floor and
was rushing out of Lobauer's office when she
accidentally dropped her notebook. Out fell loose
papers covered with doodles. Frances felt the
blood rushing to her head. She gathered her
papers and ran out, letting the door slam behind
her.
Frances couldn't go back to class right away.
She felt so small. A nobody. A nothing. She felt
angry with Mr. Lobauer for treating her like she
was stupid. But more than that she was angry at
herself for having let herself want something so
badly that she knew deep within that she could
never have. Just because she won some lousy
contest, she let herself get all puffed up. Shit! she
was mad at Miss Robinson too. Why didn't she
get the award money?! She could have bought a
plastic skeleton to study at home, sketch pads,
brushes, her very own watercolors! Maybe even a
canvas and some oils. She'd always wanted to try
oils. But instead she had to rely on the school for
her materials and once she graduated, she
wouldn't have any.
She shoved the door to the girls' rest room and
went into a stall. She put the lid down on the
toilet and sat down. She felt like doing something
she had never done before. She took a felt pen
from her purse and positioned it between "The
crabs jump ten feet high" and "La Rosie and
Cricket forever" and as darkly as possible wrote:
"Fuck everybody!"
She was about to come out of the stall when
she heard someone walk into the rest room.
Frances hesitated coming out, thinking whoever it
was might use her stall, smell the fresh ink and
report her. Frances could see between the chink of
the stall that someone was standing by the mirror.
She smelled lavender. She recognized that smell
from gym class. It was Grace's perfume. A strange
 - -
curiosity came over Frances and she peered
through the chink. She could see Grace adjusting
her headband, her sleek black hair falling softly to
her shoulders. Frances saw something in Grace's
reflection that she never noticed before,
something so obvious. Grace, the expensive
dresser, the straight A student, the cheerleader
and soon-to-be journalist; Grace, the girl with the
good-looking football player boyfriend; Grace,
who could leave them all behind for some fancy
college in a big city; Grace, the girl standing only
five feet away from her was...darker than she.
Frances' eyes dashed from the olive tone of her
hand to Grace's caf con leche color. Back and
forth until it had thoroughly sunk in.
Frances sat on the toilet until Grace had left,
smiling at her discovery. That night after all her
chores had been done and everyone had gone to
bed, Frances tiptoed back to the kitchen, sketch
pad under her arm. She turned on the light and
spread her colored pencils and paper on the
formica table. She sat down and contemplated the
lone orange in the fruit bowl, while the sound of
the crickets and the nearby clock's ticking
resounded her own solitude. She picked up the
45
orange and played with it, dropping it from one
hand to the other, feeling its weight. Her small
hands cupped its round shape, turning it so that
her fingers ran along the hard dimpled skin. She
held it up to her nose, inhaling its sweet citrus
smell. She shook it by her ear, and heard its slow,
heavy timbre. She set it down on the table,
studying its bright color, the interplay of light and
shadow upon its surface. Frances imagined herself
biting into its juicy center, filling her being with its
sweet flavor. She drew a yellow dot upon the
blank sheet of paper, then hundreds and
thousands more dots that spiraled from the
center outward, creating a universe that was in the
process of becoming this unique, perfect, little
orange.
Source: Carmen Morones, Grace, in Making Face,
Making Soul/Haciendo Caras: Creativeand Critical
Perspectives of Women of Colour, ed. Gloria Anzalda
(San Francisco: Aunt Lute Foundation, 1990), 243
- -

Film: McFarland
Song: Hymn for the Weekend
21st Century Reading 3:
Hidden Miracles of the Natural World
Video Scripts LIFE:
Peruvian Weavers
Taiko Master

46
 - -

MOVIE: McFarland

MOVIE TIME!

A struggling coach and teacher

who has had to move around for
different incidents in his career
McFarland, USA finally comes to one of the poorest
Genre: cities in America: McFarland,
Biography/Drama/Sport California. There he discovers
Directed by Nikki Caro buried potential in several high
Runtime: 129 minutes school boys and brings them closer
Year: 2015 than even he could ever imagine.

(Adapted from IMDB.com)

POST-VIEWING TASKS

(A). THE CHARACTERS:

Describe the main characters in the movie in terms of who they are, what they look like and what they
believe in. Then, match them to their pictures and list them in order of importance in the film.
___ Jim White:......................................................................................................................................................
___ Danny Diaz: ...................................................................................................................................................
___ Thomas Valles: ..............................................................................................................................................
___ Jos Crdenas: ..............................................................................................................................................
___ Johnny Sameniego: .......................................................................................................................................

3
2 5

2
4

47
 - -

(B). MAIN ISSUES:

Consider the title of the film and establish what the main issues are. To do so, read the explanation that
follows and the clues in the second box. Express your ideas in full sentences and provide evidence from the
film to illustrate your points.

The theme of a story is the general idea or insight about life expressed by the author. Theme is a universal
and meaningful concept that emerges from the characters' actions and from the outcomes of conflicts
described in the story. Theme is often thought of as the lesson that the author is trying to teach the reader
or audience. More than one theme can be included in a work of fiction; however, there is usually one
primary theme that ties together all of the elements of a story. Usually, a theme can be expressed in one
sentence. What is the primary or central theme of this story? Use one sentence to describe it.

(Source: http://www.teachwithmovies.org/standard-questions.htm)

You can use some of the clues below.

Financial Problems / Teenage Pregnancy & Crime/ New beginnings / Hard work and its value / Good
Manners / Education / Sports / Motivation / Religion / Violence / Family roles / Being a community / Being
Bold / Being Driven / Being Brave / Following your Dreams / The future / Not Giving Up / Being supportive
of those you love / Family ties / Changes / Finding your true passion

(C). VOCABULARY BUILDING: Becoming aware of language use through films.

Read the following quotes and say in which context they were uttered and by whom. Then focus on the
highlighted expressions and paraphrase their meaning.

1. Jim White: David, I'd like you to ask your father something for
me.
David Diaz: Yeah.
Jim White: You know what, just tell him... just tell him it was an
honor to be invited into his home.
David Diaz: Dad, he said it was an honor to be invited into your
home.
Seor Diaz: Tell him I say thanks.

2. Jim White: So, do you guys get paid by the hour?

David Diaz: No, the field.

3. Principal Camillo: Have you ever coached cross country?

Jim White: No.
Principal Camillo: Have you ever coached track?
Jim White: No.
Principal Camillo: You have competed in high school maybe
Jim White: No.
Principal Camillo: Well, you sound perfect.
4. Security Guard: That will be $9.50 for parking.
Jim White: Listen, I've got 5 bucks and 7 boys who have never seen the ocean
before.
5. Cheryl White: Fourth place at your first meet? That's not too shabby.
Jim White: Fourth out of four, also known as last place.
6. Maria Marisol: [reading Jose Cardenas's paper] We fly like blackbirds through
the orange groves, floating on a warm wind. When we run, we own the earth.
The land is ours. We speak the birds' language. Not immigrant no more. No
stupid Mexicans. When we run, our spirits fly. We speak to the gods. When we
run, we are the gods.

48
 - -

(D). HISTORY vs HOLLYWOOD: The real story behind the movie.

Read the article and watch the video following the links below. Then, complete the mind map by including
the main ideas of the article and video.

Article:
http://www.historyvshollywood.com/reelfaces/
mcfarland-usa/

Video:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K0jbsIHivVM

The real Jim White and his students

McFarland:
reality
vs
fiction

(E). SUMMARY WRITING: write a text summarising the main events in the movie in 250-300 words.

high school coach Jim White - - job-hopping - - Latinos -- McFarland High School - - an agricultural community
- - Californias farm-rich Central Valley - - out of options - - a diverse, economically-challenged community - - the
White family - - learning about each other - - exceptional running ability

49
 - -
Title: ...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...

(F). CRITICAL THINKING: Reacting to the film.

Read all the questions and select five to discuss in groups.

1. What is your reaction to the film? Have you liked it? Why (not)?
2. The resolution of the film teaches a lesson. What is the message of this movie? Do you agree or
disagree with it? How can you apply the lesson in the film to your own life?
3. Did anything that happened in this movie remind you of something that has occurred in your own
life or that you have seen occur to others?
4. Would you recommend this movie to a friend? Explain your reasons.
5. What part of the story told by the movie was the most powerful? Why?
6. If you were writing the screenplay for this movie, would you have
changed the ending? Explain your answer.
7. What feelings did you share with any of the characters in the movie?
8. Did any of the characters in this movie make you angry? Tell us why.
9. Did you come to respect any of the characters in this movie? Who was it
and why did you come to respect that character?
10. What comment is the author trying to make about the culture of the
characters in this story?
11. Depth of feeling is what makes a film worth watching. Of the many feelings expressed in the film,
with which are you most familiar?
12. Are there any transformations or changes that occur over the course of the story in any of the
major characters? For each transformation or change, describe how it comes about and how it
relates to the story's themes or ideas.
13. The significance of the story is determined by the power of its comment on the human condition.
What comment is being made in this movie about what it is to be human?
(Source: adapted from http://www.teachwithmovies.org/standard-questions.htm)

(G). MAKING CONNECTIONS:

How is the story in McFarland related to the video Peruvian Weavers? Provide your opinion
giving examples from both.

50
 - -

SONG: Hymn for the Weekend by Coldplay ft Beyonc

PRE-LISTENING TASKS
1. Explore Coldplays site at http://coldplay.com/ and be ready to share
what you liked/disliked and what interested you most about their:

Tours: ....
Music / songs: ....
Albums: ...
Videos:.....
Blogs: ....
Interviews: ..
Timeline: ..
Page design: ..
Any other aspect that you would like to mention: .

WHILE-LISTENING-VIEWING TASKS

1.1 Watch the official video Hymn for the Weekend available at their site once and listen to the song.

SONG VIDEO

1.2 Watch it for a second time and note down your first impressions on the song and the video. You can
write complete sentences, phrases or words (adjectives nouns) that clearly show the thoughts and
feelings they have stirred in you. Consult the units in EVIU and LIFE, dealing with adjectives to describe
feelings, to use the vocabulary that best represents what you want to express.

51
 - -

1.3 Watch it again if necessary and answer the following questions in full form:

a. Where has the video been shot?

b. Which places are shown?
c. Who appears in it?
d. Is there a storyline? Which one?
e. What aspects that might be typical of this place are shown in the video?

1.4 Listen to the song and complete the lyrics with the words in the box.

coursing came drug light - about hurtrain thirsty sent (x2) enough withered

drunk (x2) come heavy (x2) - miles

Drink from me, drink from me (oh-ah-oh-ah) (Woo-ooo-ooo-woo)

Then we'll shoot across the (symphony)
Then we'll shoot across the sky
Drink from me, drink from me (oh-ah-oh-ah)
Then we'll shoot across the (oh-ah-oh-ah)
Symphony
(So high, so high)
Then we'll shoot across the sky
Oh, angels (1) . from up above
You know you make my world (2) . up
When I was down, when I was (3) .
You (4) . to lift me up
Life is a drink, and love's a (5) .
Oh now I think I must be (6) . up
When I was hurt, (7) ., dried up
You came to (8) . a flood
So drink from me, drink from me
When I was so (9) .
We're on a symphony
Now I just can't get (10) .
Put your wings on me, wings on me
When I was so (11) .
We're on a symphony
When I'm lower, lower, lower, low
Ah-oh-ah-oh-ah
Got me feeling (12) . and high
So high, so high
Oh-ah-oh-ah-oh-ah
I'm feeling (13) . and high
So high, so high
(Woo)
Oh, angels (14) . from up above
I feel it (15) . through my blood
Life is a drink, your love's (16) .
To make the stars (17) . out
Put your wings on me, wings on me
When I was so (18) .
We're on a symphony
When I'm lower, lower, lower, low
Ah-oh-ah-oh-ah
Got me feeling drunk and high
So high, so high
Oh-ah-oh-ah-oh-ah
I'm feeling drunk and high
So high, so high
Ah-oh-ah-oh-ah
La, la, la, la, la, la, la
So high, so high
Ah-oh-ah-oh-ah
I'm feeling drunk and high
So high, so high
Then we'll shoot across the sky
Then we'll shoot across the
Then we'll shoot across the sky
Then we'll shoot across the (then we'll shoot)
Then we'll shoot across the sky
Then we'll shoot across the
Then we'll shoot across the sky
Then we'll shoot across the

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POST-LISTENING-VIEWING TASKS
1.1 What meaning do you make of the song?
.
.
.
1.2 Read the following quote and discuss whether you agree with it or not. Refer to the lyrics
to back up your answer.

Hymn for the Weekend by Coldplay is about finding the ability to do awesome
things together with someone whose impact in your life verges on the angelic.
Source: http://cliffordstumme.com/2015/12/06/what-does-hymn-for-the-weekend-by-coldplay-ft-beyonce-mean/

1.3 Critical Thinking

a. Why is this song called Hymn for the Weekend?
b. What connections can you find between the
song/video and the topics in Units 1 & 2 in LIFE?
c. Indians respond to Coldplays song: in groups, Source: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1IT9L1tKHf0

read and discuss whether you agree or disagree

with the following quotes. To analyse them, highlight facts, direct quotes & writers
opinions.
Coldplays new music video for Hymn for the Weekend evokes images of India all NRIs have at some
point described to their white friends in an attempt to convince them to visit India. It is an Incredible India
ad, but made by a British band that attempted to highlight Indias beauty in a way that cheapens it,
making it digestible for the Western viewer. (Fatima Zehra)
Source: http://kajalmag.com/zehra-coldplay-hymn-for-the-weekend/

"I love Coldplay's music and so does the world," she told The Times of India. "It was a huge honor to be a
part of the video. It's a great concept and I had a lot of fun shooting for it." (Sonam Kapoor)
Source: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/coldplay-beyonce-hymn-for-the-weekend-video_us_56ab879ce4b0010e80e9bb78

According to critics, the video presents a "stereotypical" image of the country, limited to Hindu gods, slums
and colourful festivals. In the four-minute video, entitled "Hymn For the Weekend", Coldplay members can
be seen washed away in colours as Indians are seen celebrating Holi the Indian festival of colours. The
video also shows Beyonce appearing on Indian billboards and movies donning Indian clothes, jewellery and
henna. Kids dressed as Gods check, bright bright colours check, slums check...When you become a band as
big as Coldplay, you got to have a little responsibility towards showing something which is relatively
accurate. (Maria Khan)
Source: http://www.ibtimes.co.uk/india-coldplay-suffers-backlash-over-stereotypical-video-hymn-weekend-1542890

d. Write a paragraph (80 to 100 words) expressing your views on the song and its video.
Provide a suitable title.

Title: ..



.

.

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Unit 1 21st Century Reading 3 TED Talks

Unit 1: Hidden Miracles

Lesson A Lesson B

Reading text: Viewing Natures Ted talk: Hidden Miracles of the

Beauty Through a New Lens (pp. 8 Natural World (pp. 18 to 21)
to 17)

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Life - Intermediate Students Book video scripts

Intermediate Students Book

Life VIDEO SCRIPTS
Video script of the video in UNIT 1 Colours: Peruvian Weavers
Task: Go over it and highlight interesting expressions.
Part 1
00:1700:52 In a small village, high in the Andes, it all starts with the sheep. Just one, that
loses its warm winter wool. First, a few people from the village, or villagers, catch the sheep
and prepare the knife. Then, they carefully tie up the sheep so that it cant move. Finally, they
use the knife to cut the sheeps winter coat of wool.
00:5501:29 After that, one of the newest and most important industries in Chinchero
begins. The methods they use are traditional, but these villagers are part of something new.
The wool theyre collecting is for a new and different business, a weavers cooperative that
the women here manage.
Every Monday and Saturday, 46 women and girls cut wool from their sheep and llamas. Then,
they spin it into yarn for making cloth. Nilda Cayanupa is the leader for the Centre for
Traditional Textiles, which manages the cooperative.
01:3001:45 Nilda Any of my age in my town was learning to weave. So it was kind of sad
that the weaving was disappearing. So, because that, always my dream was that the younger
generation should learn so the weaving wont die.
01:4601:52 Nilda grew up in the Andean countryside, where many of the men are farmers.
01:5502:06 Nilda Chinchero is a farming village. Were the best. Im not saying this because
Im from this village but were the best producers of the potatoes, and many beans like
quinoa, barley
02:0702:39 Farming has long been a tradition in Chinchero. Many farmers here continue
the traditions of the Inca people who lived in the Andes for centuries. However, farming no
longer brings in enough money to support a whole family here. So, with the changes in the
economy, traditional ideas are changing too. Until now its always been the men who have
farmed, and the women have cooked and cared for the children. They have also taken wool
from the sheep and woven it into cloth. Its this weaving thats now becoming more and
more important.
02:4002:54 Nilda says that these women weavers are becoming the main economic
supporters of the family. As an example, she tells of one woman whose husband has started
helping with the sheep. She explains that this wasnt very common in the past. Men only
farmed the land and didnt help with weaving.

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02:5503:03 Nilda But today, this group of ladies can make, not a lot of money, but a
reasonable amount of money.
03:0403:21 Now in Chinchero, weaving isnt just a tradition. Its a way to make money and
live well. Weaving has also become more important for the culture of Chinchero. It has
become a way to make the textile tradition stronger and to keep a part of the past alive.
03:2303:31 Guadalupe I learnt when I was in the third grade of school with very basic
weaving. Today, I weave blankets, shawls, ponchos and prepare my own yarn.
03:3203:42 Older women now teach the younger girls. The goal is to bring back the
strength of the textile tradition of the past. They want to keep the Peruvian weaving
traditions alive.
03:4303:50 As the young women of Chinchero learn to weave, they also learn to be self-
sufficient. They can sell the blankets and clothes that they make in their free time.
03:5203:58 Rosita I do my weaving in house, in the afternoons and early morning. And
here on Monday and Saturday too.
04:0004:13 Weaving groups like the Chinchero cooperative are giving new life to the textile
tradition. In the end, their cooperative may prove that many threads together are stronger
than one alone.

Video script of the video in UNIT 2 Performance: Taiko Master

Task: Go over it and highlight interesting expressions.
00.1500.28 Two thousand years ago, Japanese warriors used drums to make their enemies
fear them. People used to mark village boundaries by how far the sounds of drums travelled.
00.3000.35 They even used to do their daily activities to the beat of drums.
00.3700.42 Slowly over the years, the sound of the drums went away until now.
00.480.59 Now, far from Japan in the United States, a new audience is listening to this
ancient drum. The art is called taiko and it has come from the villages of Japan to the city of
San Francisco.
01.0001.06 Sarita The essence of taiko is that its not just people drumming. Its the unity
of the drummers amongst themselves.
01.1001.26 In San Francisco, the movement of the body has now been added to traditional
taiko drumming. Its now an art form that brings together sound, body and mind. During a
performance, the energy of all of these parts goes into the beating of the drums.
01.2701.36 Seiichi Tanaka Yourself and the drum, totally get together. Into the drum
yourself and drum come to you both mutual.
01.3801.54 In the early 1900s, traditional taiko drumming was popular in Japanese-
American communities. But, by the mid 1900s, people were losing interest. Then, in 1968,
Seiichi Tanaka arrived and brought a new interest and a new style of drumming.
01.5602.03 Seiichi Tanaka I was just fresh off the boat. So a whole bunch of fresh off the
boat people get together and play drums.
02.0502.16 Leigh Tanaka Seiichi is a real pioneer. Hes made a dozen or so groups back in
the sixties and seventies into something like 800 groups now spread all over this country and
Canada.

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02.2002.30 Seiichi Tanaka All energy from the Mother Nature through your body, come to
my body here go through, to the drumstick BHAM!
02.3302.45 Taiko drummers sometimes have to play through pain and tiredness while
practising and performing. At that point, some drummers feel that they can really express
their feelings and energy.
02.4702.57 Leigh Its almost as if you are standing outside of your body kind of looking in.
And you hit this point where youre just completely free.
03.0303.14 Sarita The essence of Taiko is giving your 110 per cent. You have to always
give, because if you dont give and everyone else is giving, then youre draining from them.
03.1503.29 Here in San Francisco, taiko came from the old world of Japan and was born
again. Grand Master Seiichi Tanaka is giving North America the chance to enjoy the energy
and excitement of traditional taiko drumming.

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The following units have been specifically chosen to match the topics dealt with in Units 1
& 2 (Colour & Performance) in our course book Life. They are meant to help you revise,
consolidate and enlarge your vocabulary repertoire. It is important that
you do them systematically so that you can put them into practice in class
for oral work and in all the writing tasks assigned.

We consider this self-study, so it is your responsibility to cover them

all and ask us for help in case of doubts. Once you complete a unit, tick it
so that you keep a record of what you have covered and what is still to be
done.
Remember that we will have a progress check on these units on
. So be strategic and plan a number of units per week so that you
can reach the deadline in perfect shape !

ENGLISH VOCABULARY IN USE (Upper-Intermediate)

Unit 18: Art & literature

Unit 19: Theatre & cinema

Unit 20: Music

Unit 41: Pleasant & unpleasant feelings

Unit 42: Like, dislike & desire

Unit 47: Emotions & moods

Unit 51: Time

Unit 61: Cause, reason, purpose & result

Unit 62: Concession & contrast

Unit 63: Addition

Unit 69: Suffixes

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The following units have been specifically chosen to match the grammar areas dealt with in Units 1
& 2 (Colour & Performance) in our course book Life. They are meant to help you revise and
consolidate your grammar. It is crucial that you do them systematically so that you
can speak and write accurately.
We consider this self-study, so it is your responsibility to cover them all and
ask us for help in case of doubts. Once you complete a unit, tick it so that you keep a
record of what you have covered and what is still to be done.
Remember that we will have a progress check on these units on
. So be strategic and plan a number of units per week so that you can reach
the deadline in perfect shape !

MY GRAMMAR LAB (Intermediate)

Module 5: Present Tenses
26: be, have and have got
27: Present simple
28: Present Continuous
29: Present Simple or Continuous?
Module 7: Present Perfect
36: Present Perfect for past experiences and present results
37: Present Perfect for situations up to the present
Module 12: Verbs with ing forms & infinitives
64: Verb + -ing form
65: Verb + infinitive
66: Verb (+object) + infinitive; make and let
67: Verb + infinitive or ing form
Module 15: Linking Words
78: Reason & Purpose
79: Causes & results
80: Adding information & giving alternatives
81: Showing differences
Module 18: Word Formation
95: Forming nouns
96: Forming adjectives
97: Forming verbs
Module 19: Formal & Written English
99: Punctuation
100: Ways to avoid repeating words
101: Using linking words in writing
Module 20: Spoken English
108: Expressing our feelings & ideas

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Unit 1:
Introduction to Paragraphs
[Pages 15 to 37]

Unit 2:
Five Elements of Good Writing
[Pages 38 to 63]

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CHECKLIST 1

X
Brainstorming?

One paragraph?

Indented?

Title without period?

Clear Topic Sentence?

Concluding Sentence?

CHECKLIST 2

Writers name:

Peer editors name: YES NO

Does the paragraph have a clear topic sentence?

Does the topic sentence have a controlling idea?

Does the paragraph have clear supporting sentences?

Does each supporting sentence relate to the topic and the controlling
idea?

Is the paragraph indented?

Does the paragraph have a concluding sentence that brings the

paragraph to a logical conclusion?

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PROJECT WORK 1: Zoom in

Work in groups of 3 students and:
1) Choose one photo from Unit 1 (Colour) or 2
(Performance) in Life and explore the theme(s) depicted
in it.
2) Carry out some research on the web and summarise the
key points of your investigation.
3) Prepare a three-minute oral presentation to share your findings in a poster session.
Organise the information in such a way that all the members in the group have
equal opportunities to speak.
4) Design a graphic organiser in the shape of a poster to help you deliver your talk and
guide the listener.
5) Finally, check the tips below to sail through this task

TIPS
You may use note-cards as a guide of what to say next, do not use a script.

You may use pictures/drawings to help you.

You should organise your talk effectively making sure you keep the audiences attention.

You should use a lively and entertaining tone of voice.

This is a formal presentation, so you should use appropriate vocabulary and grammar and
you should check pronunciation.

You should use interesting words and phrases to make your presentation captivating.

Adapted from: GSCE English Speaking and Listening Assessments. www.teachit.co.uk

..
AUDIENCES ROLE
CONTENT

You must pick up at least three facts you have learnt from your classmates presentation.

What was the most interesting part of the talk? Why?

Which part was least interesting or informative?

Do you have any questions?

Adapted from: Speaking and listening assessment cards. www.teachit.co.uk.

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