A Hero in My Eyes Reflection

My Character Sketch

I believe that a hero can become a hero if they did something that would benefit the community, and in no way would they take any benefits because of this help that he has offered. Also, a hero can be different in your eyes than in my eyes becaue heroes are all about perspective. I believe that even you, when you recycle something, can be a hero to someone.

This project, to me, was about learning to appreciate the unsung heroes in our lives. I also think that the purpose of this project was to learn how to truly describe someone without being too direct.

Our final product, was a two page character sketch about the hero we decided upon. At first, my character sketch was a little bit too vague in some parts and very direct in others. I think that after the first 2 trials, I got the full effect of what really was a character sketch. Then, after we had finished this sketch we had to insert this into an InDesign CS3 template and include two pictures of our hero. I had troubles with this because I worked on InDesign CS4 as opposed to CS3 and when I turned it in, it wouldn't open on CS3. So, this affected me because I almost didn't turn it in on time which would've hurt my grade.

In this project, we chose someone in our lives to honor/write about. This someone had to be a hero that has impacted our lives in a positive manner. I think that also, this project was about learning who was a hero, in the beginning I had some struggles in figuring out what really makes a hero. But after having all our class dicussions, we really learned what made a hero. We also learned how to write a character sketch, and how to truly get the essence of our hero in only two pages.

I think that in this project, I applied ownership a lot this project, because I kept asking myself very often "How can I make this better? Is it already good enough? What can I add and what can I remove?" I think that I used this because I was really striving to make my hero look as best as she could, because when someone's a hero you want to make sure that they are represented as best as they can be. Overall, I really think that this was my best work, except that maybe I took off a little took much off my sketch and ended up with less than two pages.

The Origin of Zero

I read this article about the Origin of Zero and I think that this is very interesting, I was especially shocked when it said that in Greece, the number zero made a late appearance. You'd think that whoever had begun math would've been the one to make this discovery. I guess that whoever had displayed this sign first would be the one to receive some credit, however I don't think we'll ever really know. I believe that if you invent the concept it's pretty much you that creates it, but if the concept was established before the person, then whoever had recorded that created it. The world probably figured out this concept the same way rumors travel today. It's like a very, very, sloooww moving text message that was forwarded to the whole world.

A Hero in My Eyes

Motherly Instincts

She sits there all of the time, her eyes stoically staring at space, as if to signal she’s in deep meditation. Her face is beautiful, but when you look underneath you can see years of tragedies, the kind that would make ones’ self grow. Her hair falls gently around her feature creating a dark brown frame with faint golden streaks. Her eyes, stand out of the frame and have a faint purple halo beneath her caramel coffee eyes from restless nights of mothering. Mothering and motherly instincts is something she doesn’t lack.

“Don’t eat hard candy!” she would holler at us whenever we picked up any candy that was hard. I never really understood what was with her over protectiveness. I asked her, and just like that she slipped into some sort of trances; the kind you would see in television shows when the character is having a flashback. My brother, the one who has had his fair share of incidents with food, was the one towards whom she was more protective over. She would constantly be watching him eat, and I mean this in the most literal way. I wasn’t alive then, but my mother told me the story anyway.

She was home alone, having to watch over my brother and sister like an angel would a newborn. She had a gut feeling, I guess you could call it a mother’s intuition that struck when she handed him the round candy with multicolored swirls.

“Don’t jump,” she cautioned him knowing it would happen anyway. She waved it away with a hint of regret and returned to her tornado-wrecked closet. Her eyes darted across the room when she heard the loud thump, followed by the flailing of the plum colored child’s arms. Everything seemed to have slowed down, except her brain; it ran like a horse in a giant meadow, galloping like thunder. She glided through the room and saw that the candy was too far from her reach. She didn’t give up though, she knew what she had to do, not matter what, she had to save that life. She took the child’s head into her arms, cradling it softy and reached for the candy.

An unearthly sound escaped the toddler’s mouth, like an air pocket that was trapped within his lungs. The both embraced as diamond droplets streamed down their cheeks. That night, she curled into bed with her child, tears still dripping as they slipped into a much needed state of unconsciousness. I saved a life, a life that if I had not been educated might’ve slipped right through my grasp she thought. Words weren’t enough to describe the day she had, all she had was the experience that she wished she would never have to relive, she’s a hero to me, she’s my mother.

As she recovered from the sudden surge of memories, her eyes fixed on mine. The edges of her mouth turned upwards into a proud smile. Proud of herself for saving her son, proud because she taught me a new life lesson, one that I certainly hope I’ll never use. I wondered who’d made her this way, who had taught her these things.

As it turns out, it was somehow programmed into her brain, her mother’s brain. Wow, I thought, what an amazing feat, to save your child without a single clue of what you were doing, just relying on your instincts. I love her for everything, for giving birth to me, for saving my brother. I simply love her.

Popularity for Angela

Catching the signal from one of her friends, Angela brushed her skirt, took a deep breath and walked towards where he was sitting. She walked with her eyes closed, letting the silent whispers of the trees fill her ears. Her mind traveled as she thought of the last time she'd done this. She saw the way he'd looked at her, eyes screaming with disbelief. Snapping herself back to the frigidly cold morning, she opened her eyes, locking her gaze on him. She looked like a lion about to get her morning lunch. It was strange, how she entered a trance every time Jane gave her some stupid order.

She took the final steps and kept her breathing steady, but her heart was a hammer violently attacking her ribcage. She sat down in one quick movement. He looked up with a strange smile plastered on his face as if to say "What the heck are you doing here?" She returned his smile with a wink and leaned in to whisper in his ear. "It's not working out, Jane said you're just too big of a lousy dork to even be an acquaintance," she stood up and turned sharply making her skirt crack like a whip. The things you do to stay popular... she thought suddenly feeling a sting of regret. She glanced back at him, he looked like a little kid who just learned the truth about Santa. She sighed and marched away leaving behind her insecurities, she had to be popular, no matter what.