Aminata Diallo: The Book of Negroes by Lawrence Hill

Question: If you were placed in the main character's shoes, what would you do differently?

Answer: If I was placed in Aminata's shoes it is hard to say what I would, or could, have done differently. Laying here on my soft, double bed with electronics nearby, my skin seems startlingly white and it is hard to even imagine myself in her shoes, or the shoes of any slave. I can only hope and dream that I would have been half as strong and brave as Aminata Diallo, then pray that that is a theory that never gets tested. But, the question is what I would have done differently and I doubt that what I would have done would have benefited me any grand amount. I can speculate that I would not have the same determination to live as `Meena` did. I do not think that after having everything I know, own and love ripped away from me again and again, that I could have found the will to live. Thinking of the horrible treatment and brutal conditions that she, and so many others endured, I know that I would have crippled under the strain of it, unable to bear this wretched, inhumane way of life. Everyone likes to think that when placed in a dangerous situation that they would be able to conquer and to survive, even myself. In this situation I fear that I would have met the same fate as many others, my lifeless body would be added to a shallow grave; the deep, ruthless sea; or left to rot. I can only imagine the lives of those in the slave trade through the eyes of Aminata Diallo and know, if I was placed in her shoes, I would never survive.

An Amazing Last Week

I remember a few weeks ago I had signed onto Edline and saw that I was practically failing English, after having a really rough week with my teacher I was quite upset about this and after seeing my less than stellar note in French I promptly broke into tears. Following which I ran to the bathroom and cried my little heart out. After I got myself together I went back out and checked my e-mail, I had received an e-mail from someone telling me that my poem was accepted into a magazine. Of course, this made my burst into tears yet again and give my mother a great, big hug. It was a big hurrah and I felt like shoving it in my English teacher's face, but that would be entirely inappropriate and immature, so I did a victory dance with my mum instead.

The poem I am talking about is a poem I wrote back in the fall of 2009 about my, then sick, friend. Unfortunately, he passed away in February of 2010. I think that because he is no longer with us, this poem has brought on a new meaning to me, personally. Reading the poem over again a few years later of course I am critical and the writing isn't really the best, there are lines that I could go back and word differently to give a bigger impact but I almost don't want to, scratch that, I don't want to. This poem comes from a very different part of my life. While it was written only a few years ago, it feels like decades. I was a completely different person back then and because of this the poem has a special place in my heart they way it is. It was before "my turning point". Back when I was younger and a lot more naive.

With everything that has been happening these last few weeks it just feels incredible. I got the invitation today inviting me to the launch of this magazine and I felt like crying. Holding this invitation in my hands it makes it so real, I don't even know how I will feel when I see my name in print. I also received another invitation to another writing seminar, this one with a small fee and transportation. I know that I should take it, especially with the enticing prospect of one-on-one with an author but I just don't know. Maybe because next week is another short week and I don't want to miss more school but I just don't know if I want to go. Of course, I said that at first about the last one didn't I? I know that it would be a great opportunity...the more I think of it, they more it sounds interesting, I could edit a piece of work of mine and bring it in to see what they say...

I also finished up the Jewish Holocaust Memorial Study Group I was a part of since back in January, it is great to be able to go back to going to school everyday and not worrying about missing work but I am really going to miss this group. It was hard work at times but I sincerely enjoyed everything that we learned and all of the people we were given a chance to meet.

Last week was amazing in many different ways and I hope that it goes up from here.

Murder Mystery Workshop

It was unbelievably awesome. I loved it. I enjoyed every minute.

I can't believe that I almost didn't go.

On the first day, we started by being separated into groups and had to write and act out how we thought Ms. Priscilla Stone was murdered. But honestly, I think I could have sat there and listened to Alistair and Valerie just talk. They were so informative and just listening to their advice on writing was amazing. They offered great advice, on how to write and how to draw your readers in. We also talked about how important the senses are when writing. So, as an exercise to work on that they handing out a different item out to everyone that had to do with the a certain sense and you had to write about it. I got a little bottle of Rum Extract and had to write only on the smell, although I did slip a cheeky little blurb about its colour in there. I found it really hard to write purely on the scent but I managed to get a paragraph down, it was great to challenge myself and it really helped for the next bit of writing we did. We were given three words: she came in... And we had to write a paragraph starting with those three words. I ended up writing a page and a half but I really liked what I wrote, and so did he!! I was so unbelievably pumped that he liked it, and he mentioned that he liked it more than once! We finished up the day by talking and listening to one of Valerie's stories on the war which was read on CBC and on the radio for a few years, it was a great piece and I might have shed a tear or two, it was non-fiction, which made it impact even harder.

On day two we started by writing our very own detective to solve the murder of Ms. Priscilla. I created a roly-poly, bald gentleman who was quite vain but knew how to solve a case. It was great writing about him and I kept it a little comical because my piece on day two was a little sad. We did a few activities and talked for awhile before starting to write our very own ending to the mystery. It was crazy how diverse we all we and while I wish I had more time to delve into the topic more I think I did okay considering. It wasn't my best but I was happy with it. Afterwards though, the more amazing thing EVER happened. Every time we wrote we would have to get up in front of everyone, around twenty people, and write our work. Now, usually just the thought of letting people hear my work makes me start to hyperventilate! But Alistair said something that I think will stick with me, he said, "If you don't want to read your work or have your work read than you might as well go write a diary and go sit in your bedroom and read it all alone on your bed." It hit me then, he was totally right! It is really scary reading my work out loud for an audience or allowing someone to read it but it's something I have to get over, and I think that, maybe, that fear will always be there but I can't let it hinder me any more. If I met someone who can possibly help me any way, giving advice or giving feedback, I have to take it!

Anyway, as I was saying, I got up and read my ending to the story and Valerie told me to audition for CBC.... In complete seriousness, and more than once, she was quite consistent. She gave compliments and feedback to everyone but I was the only one she said anything like that to! She just told me that I was a really good writer and that I had a lovely voice, that I knew how to express my words quite well and that I spoke with the emotion. I was absolutely floored. It was unbelievable. I walked out of that room thinking that I can actually do this, I can write. I was walking on a high for days, I felt as if I could have done anything! This was such an incredible experience, worth every extra minute I had to spend doing homework and I feel that it really has helped my writing.

A Bundle of Nerves and Excitement

So, once again I have another wonderful opportunity to be thankful and grateful for. I was presented with the chance to go to a writing workshop for two days, during which we will each create our own little short "murder mystery" story and have authors there who will help us. I only found out today and the workshop starts tomorrow so it is completely last notice, for that reason I was really humming and hawing about the whole deal, especially with the prospect of missing two days of school. I am still nervous about missing school because I seem to be missing a lot lately for school activities but as a friend put it, Chemistry that you will never use again or your career. Because let's face it, she was right, this is what I want to do, not working out equations.

I am beyond happy to be going to this workshop and am over the moon that there will be two authors there who will help us. On the other hand, as usual, I am distraught at the thought that they will actually be reading my work. I mean, what if they don't like it? Does that mean I suck? Everyone has different tastes so even if they don't like it, that doesn't mean it is terrible, does it? I am pretty much a complete wreck, a bundle of nerves and excitement, waiting with baited breath for tomorrow...

Happy Easter

I hate holidays. All they are is an excuse for families who do not get along to come together and pretend to be happy and loving but above all, unbelievably phony. I am sick of the awkward dinners I have sat through fuming because I would legitimately kill to be anywhere else. I am sick of the fighting. I am sick of the drinking. I am tired of becoming depressed during a time when you are supposed to be happy, but what else is new?

I just want them to be over. I want people to be honest. No, I don't like you and you bug me. How hard is that? It just seems that every holiday lately has been tainted by some dark cloud. Whether it be a fight that has taken place or someone who has taken one too many sips from the bottle. It is so frustrating, I love these people, some days, deep down, but traits of their personalities make my teeth grind and my blood boil. A day that started off so well has once again come to a startling halt. Snow and cupcakes have been overshadowed by the same familial problems.

Starting to panic?

You could say that this has been a hard week. Or you could say this has been a week from the deep, fiery depths of hell. Whichever you prefer.


Besides everything in my last post this week was one full of tests that I know I did not do particularly well on. As well as having one of my teachers tell me that I am not working up to par whilst I have a 91 in his class. Now, I struggle with trying to tell myself daily that I do not have to get 100's and if I don't get the perfect grade, that is okay, it doesn't mean I am stupid or worthless. So, to have a teacher that I hold up to a high standard tell me that, well, it made me feel stupid and worthless. It is so hard to try, try, try and still feel like you're not good enough. Everyone seems to think that this comes naturally to me, that it is easy for me to get high honours and do extracurricular activities but in actuality it is a struggle every day. I strive to get those good marks and high standing, I work for every little thing I receive. I study and do homework from when I get home to when I go to bed at night. And when I have those rare evenings when I only have three hours of homework to do I consider myself lucky and try to relax and unwind but I still feel guilty.

Lately I have just been so tired, mentally and physically, I am tried of trying so hard for such little reward. I get nothing in return and while sometimes getting a really good mark is enough of a reward but after two years, sometimes it isn't. I just feel like saying screw it and giving up. I don't even want to try anymore, that is how tired I have become. I suppose these thoughts I have been having that I will not get accepted into Carleton aren't helping either. I just feel like it's such a long shot, why do I even think I have a chance? That sounds pathetic just writing it out but it's how I feel. Maybe I just need a smack upside the head but mostly I just need to get away. I am panicking because I feel that in one years time, instead of getting my acceptance letter, I will be getting my rejection letter. I am panicking because I feel as if I am failing at everything right now. I need a recuperation period because I am exhausted...

Frustrated

My emotions have just been all over the place and I am so worried about Sarah. She is going through an unbelievably difficult time right now and I just wish there was something more that I could do. I am trying to be there as much as I can but I get so frustrated when there is nothing I can do to help her more. And it is not helping that now the teachers are trying to "help" me by telling me I have to get to class. I was so infuriated with Murch to have the nerve to tell me I don't have to be her "keeper" and by going behind my back to talk to principals. If he only realized that I almost lost it when they told me to go to class as I was comforting my friend. I am sorry but men in their 40's+ do not know how to comfort a teenage girl, especially when they do not know her full back story and family drama. Of course, by the teachers' starting to worry about my grades it sent Sarah into tears that she was doing this to me, apologizing profusely. What no one seems to realize or understand is that this is my option. It is my choice. I have had plenty of opportunities to walk away, to walk back to class but I am not the one who can leave their friend behind when they need help the most. Maybe it is because it has happened to me so many times. But walking back to class, leaving her in the midst of recovery, was one of the hardest things that I have ever had to do. These adults aren't understanding anything at all regardless of how they try. Getting into someone's face and asking questions while it is happening doesn't help anything. And you know what? I was called out of class less than twenty minutes later because she was having another one. When will they put one and one together? It sickens me that Sarah feels she is imposing on me or asking too much when this happens. I am her best friend and what kind of monster would ignore their friend when they are in need?

The feeling I hate most is frustration. I hate being unable to do something or told that I can not do something. I hate that feeling of restriction and not knowing what to do. Right now, my frustration level is sky high and I feel like I could scream, or punch another wall.