Kenneth PauljajouteReflections on the Presentand the Pastwhen I work in clubs, I look around. I walk through the crowd, back andforth, confused from the music ringing in my ears. People are clingingand embracing. I note the power <strong>of</strong> the music. I see the bodies in the shadows,some swaying to the drums, to the rhythm. I feel like a sentinel among them, fromanother time and place, lost in the sound, the noise and the smell.But, in my mind, I am in the old world. They turn around the campfire withits amber sparks, in the dark, dark jungle, surrounded by the trees. The peopledance in rhythm, drinking, taking drugs under the rising moon, trying to free theirminds and bodies, dancing under the moonlight, but with a religious purpose andceremony.But now, we are here in present times, surrounded by steel and iron in amodern jungle. The drugs, the drink, mangle people. They hope in the music theywill find truth and freedom. But they are hopeless in the search.I contrast the new world with the old; now people are searching, but findingnothing. Everyone is impressed by how modern they are, but they have no direction,no consciousness <strong>of</strong> the meaning <strong>of</strong> many things in life. They are pulled in differentdirections. They have no ideas. They are lost in a world <strong>of</strong> light and sound.Gaining Perspective115kenneth pauljajouteKenneth Pauljajoute is 30 years old and was born and raised in <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>. He studies atthe Adult Learning Center <strong>of</strong> LaGuardia Community College. Miriam Fisher is his teacher.“I have had many jobs. I love the ocean. I love science,” Kenneth Pauljajoute writes. Headds, “I find people very interesting to observe.”
velma noelvelma noel Gaining Perspective116Back in Grenadaone day, when I was a little girl back in Grenada, my parents sent my sisterJanet and me to the shop. It was seven in the evening and it had started toget dark outside. The shop was about 15 minutes away from where we lived. On theway to the shop was a family cemetery.As my sister and I neared the cemetery on our way back home, we hearda boom and something started rolling behind us. It was dark and we could not seewhat it was, so we started running.Where we were living we didn’t have streetlights. My sister and I bumpedinto each other in the dark and both <strong>of</strong> us fell in a drain. We got up as fast as we could,and we started running again. We ran until we got home and were out <strong>of</strong> breath. Ourparents asked us what happened. When we told them, they started laughing. Ourparents said it was a coconut that fell from the tree and started rolling behind us.After that evening, our parents never again sent my sister and me to theshop in the dark.A 54-year-old Grenada native, Velma Noel has lived in <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong> for 17 years.She is a student at the Brooklyn Public Library’s Central Learning Center, whereWinsome Pryce-Cortes is the site manager, and Susan Knott is the literacyadvisor. She would like to thank her volunteer tutor, Rochelle McNeeley. Thisis Velma Noel’s third publication in the Literacy Review, and she says, “I amdeveloping confidence in myself, and I am happy as a result.”
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The Gallatin School of Individualiz
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CONTENTSINTRODUCTIONgallatin alumna
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amanda rodriguez An Angel Without W
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khady gueye The Best Job I Have Eve
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IntroductionNext year, for the 10th
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Abbey Fenbert was a student-teacher
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thrilling and incredibly humbling.
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Introduction15Author
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LIVING INNEW YORK CITYkee fong liu
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Josephine LamLifesaverlate one nigh
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elationship to the black slaves who
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Colin TriumphDo I Fit the Profile?W
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Elena TarneaA MemorableWork Experie
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neela arnoldyGettingLostears ago, I
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YanMing WuNew York in My Eyesnew Yo
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New York City was torn apart.Our sp
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Rose CovingtonRebirthon the first o
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Living in NYC35Author
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yacouba yeo The Hunt 38stacy (xiulu
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odies of animals. The last animal w
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Ambiorix E. BaretA Passion for the
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elif yigitMy Great-Grandpawhen I we
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Geysha Prescott Hassan#50409in Pana
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Qian (Michelle) YangSecret Pathsigr
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Vasyl BarabashBorn in Ukrainethe vi
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Cecilia RichettiI Am an IslanderI a
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sky and said that to my grandma. Fo
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Amanda RodriguezAn Angel Without Wi
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Khazanah AwadMy Mom WhenShe Was a L
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TELLING TALESTelling Tales59Authorn
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modou sambFalse Teethhis name is Ha
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Olga TseytlinahHeWas a Stone Mane w
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- Page 120 and 121: florence choiceOde to My Shiny Shoe
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