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Showing posts from December, 2014

Why 'the hanging tree' song from hunger games is so powerful

Yes. I am going to write a piece about a song from a young adult fan fiction remix. But there is a reason it has resonated with so many (including me) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=14H8OzTzne4 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eyYTcMFKFXY From staggering wealth inequality to the grim realization that they are at the wealthy's mercy for climate change mitigation, young people today fully realize the times they are living in and the costs of inaction. Many times we simply distract ourselves from the horrifying possibilities of our futures. We distract ourselves from the reality that water will soon be a scarce resource, that variable weather and climate change will cause our stomachs to growl with hunger we have never yet experienced, and question our ability to have resolution as we tuck in our basements time and time again while storms charge through with increased intensity and severity than ever before. But I think what scares young people most, is the realization

Our America: A look Beyond the Veil

Our America  is a non-fiction story that chronicles the lives of two inner city Chicago boys, LeAlan and Lloyd. The boys were given a microphone to record their experiences and thoughts growing up in the south side of Chicago in the early to mid nineties. Our America is the transcribed version of these stories. This essay intertwines LeAlan and Lloyd's stories with the stories told by black artists through the decades. _____________________________________________________________________________ Our America: A Look Beyond the Veil Introduction “We want to give you kids in America a message: Don’t look at ghetto kids as different. You might not want to invite us to your parties, you might think well rob you blind when you got your back turned. But don’t look at us like that...We have a hard life, but were sensitive. Ghetto kids are not a different breed--were human” p. 83 Public Enemy: Don’t Believe the Hype “BACK!” Chuck D spits, and it pops like a guns