Otto. B

my 7th grade portfolio

My Portfolio Reflection

  1. How would you describe your writing at the beginning of the year and how would you describe it now?     At the beginning of the year my writing was not good, i never used comas or spelled anything right.
  2. What do you consider your writing strengths? Explain.     rambling on and on, i have lost of ideas but cant get them down on paper.
  3. What writing skills do you need and/or want to continue to develop next year? Explain.     fluidatie, my writing doesn't flow whell ans so that means that it doesn't make scenes.
  4. What piece of writing from this year best captures your growth as a writer and thinker? Explain why.     I think that my south-Sudan newspaper article it the best writing peace, because i worked hardesed on it and i got to work with tucker. (artifact #1)
  5. What piece of writing from this year are you most proud of? Explain why.     Im most proud of my final holocaust letter because it was what i spent the most time on out of any writing assignment. (artifact #2)

Artifact #1

“Never again” The phrase we used after the holocaust, yet now in south sudan its happening again. It all started when south sudan wanted to separate from sudan, the sudanese government didn't want this because of the oil in south sudan. The local tribes where the scapegoat, targeted by the government, China, Russia and other middeleasorn countrys are allso interested with the oil. They are giving the sudanese government weapons and soldiers to kill the locals.

Artifact #2

Dear  Wladslaw,

The moment after, I wrote the previous letter a train came and took me away. They yelled and pushed until they got us into the disgusting, gross and smelly box car normally used for cattle. All the people crammed into a little box car, it was awful.

Once we got to the camp it was like hell, people screaming, there were dirty people everywhere. There was a lady sitting in the corner yelling “They're going to take your kids they're going to take your kids” repeatedly. Sure enough my mom and I were separated.

We got our clothes taken and had to change  into striped blue jump suits, that felt like living inside a cactus.  They fed us gross soup that tasted like water and meat, the bathroom looks like a big barn with hundreds of holes in the ground. There was NO privacy nor comfort. For dinner, we had the same watered down soup, after that they gave us a small cup of imitation coffee, the only thing that didn't taste like manure. I think the soup actually had manure in it, that's what gives it its color and smell.

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