Journal #4 - Response to Teacher Commentary on Writing Pre-Assessment

Mrs. Sueoka,

I can see where i might need some work. I should've put more details about my grandpa and our relationship, just like you suggested. I also could've added things to describe his funeral and what i did to help with the preparation. I know that my organization, sentence fluency, word choice, and ideas were kind of on the weak side. I'll be sure to work on these traits throughout the year.

-Sharmaine Sebastian

Querencia - Essay Draft

Empire State of Mind

By Sharmaine Sebastian

I wait impatiently for my dad to pick me up from school. I sit under the palm tree unable to stick around the school for a little longer. Finally after 5 long minutes, I see the silver-gold car gleaming in the sunlight, taking the left turn to the front of the school. I hop into the car and laid my head back on the seat. “How was your day?” my dad asked. I replied, “Uhm, it was good.” We stopped talking after that. I couldn’t wait to get home.

My dad drove onto the driveway, and I begin to gaze at the white and maroon house. It still looked the same as it was when we recently bought it during December of 2008. The green palm trees and green bushes around our home gave it a woodsy and tropical appearance. I got out of the car right after it came to a stop. I thought to myself, “Yes. I’m finally home!”

As I walked into the living room downstairs, I saw my grandma sitting on the couch. I go over to her and hug her. I run up the stairs, passing by the old-looking kitchen. It really needs to be repaired. The stairs were old too. While walking up the stairs, I could hear the creaking of it. That felt very uncomfortable. I kept thinking that it would break.

I could see my cousin in the living room as I took the last step on the stairs. He was watching football like always. I drop my bags onto the floor and then he gave me the remote to change the channel, but I refused. I said, “Oh. It’s okay. I’m going to go to my room, and do my homework.” He didn’t respond. But I stayed in the living room for ten minutes though, so that I could relax for a while. I examined everything about the living room. The white paint was flawless. There were no chips in it. The room was kind of messy too. Papers and books were scattered across the coffee table. Most of them belonged to my cousin. He likes to read a lot.

I stare out the window. I took in the view of the mountains. I can see it clearly from where I was sitting. It would be about an hour before the sun goes down. “I better get started on my homework,” I said. “Okay,” said my cousin. I grabbed all of my books and bags and went to my room. I put the key into the gold door knob, turned it, and opened my door. The cool breeze hits my face every time I walk in. It always refreshes me and has the scent of my perfume, peach & honey.

I place my books onto my bed and bags onto the ceramic-tiled floor, took off my shoes, and I lay down, very exhausted. The light outside shined through the windows and brightens up my room. The pink blinds compliment the very white walls, which were covered in posters and pictures of my friends and me. I love decorating my room. It lets me express myself without limits. I sometimes draw my own pictures and post it up on my wall.

The flower print comforter and my hello kitty pillow make me feel like I’m still a little girl. (To be honest, I like that feeling) I examine it carefully, noticing the lace around the ends of the comforter. Then my closet caught my eye. My clothes were hung the way it’s supposed to, color coordinated and separated by category. Jackets were all the way at the beginning of my closet, and then it would be t-shirts, blouses, dresses, and jeans. The shelves above held my bags, shoes, and boxes of old clothes from when I was a baby. I laugh to myself thinking about those days. Then it reminded me of the old wardrobe I had ever since I was born. I saw it sitting in the far left corner of my room. The stickers I placed on it since I was 3 were still there, along with the many markings made of crayons, markers, and paint. (You won’t believe how many times I got scolded for doing all of that)

To the right of the wardrobe, was my dresser. My note books, hello kitty jewelry box, make-up, perfume, lotion, deodorant, facial cleansers, and other daily essentials were on top of it. It didn’t look organized, but it wasn’t messy either. I spot my stereo on the right corner of my eye. I decide to turn it on, putting in a CD of classical music from Mozart, Debussy, Beethoven, and Pachelbel. I heard Claire de Lune being played.

I have different personalities when I’m in my room, but I don’t have a personality disorder. I can be a nerd if I wanted to, just by reading a book or even organizing my book shelf. I could act like a musical genius, just by listening to classical music like I am right now. Or I can just be downright crazy when I play alternative music very loud that it would force my parents to pound on my door so hard and yell at me to turn it down a notch. I’ll admit that I can be very unusual.

After being distracted by everything around me, I started on my homework. It's 6:03 p.m. I have just completed all of my assignments. Now, there wasn’t anything else I wanted to do but chill and hang loose. I jump onto my bed, sprawl on my back, and cover my face with a pillow. I slowly fall into a trance and all of my worries, stress, and problems disappear. I’m in my own world now, my own empire, my own state of mind. There’s nothing that can bring me down, not even gravity. (If you know what I mean) This place brings out the true me and helps me to know more about who I really am. I feel so secure in my room because there’s no one that can judge me besides God.

Journal #9 - Cultural Roots/Heritage/Identity Story

The book I'm reading is "When My Name was Keoko".

My novel is related to culural roots because the Koreans have their own way of life and so do the Japanese. The Japanese invade Korea, make the Koreans change their names, and teach them a whole different way of life. They have to count in japanese, write in japanese, and they can't even fly the korean flag.

EXAMPLE: "The government order spoke of wishing to make our land more beautiful, with thousands of cherry trees. But it wasn't just a wish for beauty. The cherry tree was a national symbol of Japan.

And the final part of the order was that all rose of Sharon trees had to be uprooted and burned." (The Sharon tree was the national tree of korea.)

My novel is related to cultural heritage because it shows how proud Sun-hee and Tae-yul of their background, and their parents as well. They are willing to do anything to get their country back and to help their family.

EXAMPLE: In order to protect his uncle, Tae-yul enlists in the Japanese army.

My novel is related to cultural identity because ever since they have changed their names it seems like they've lost their korean identity. But it doesnt change who they really are. They stay true to themselves and their family.

EXAMPLE: "Bow", he whispers. "Bow to the Korean flag."

"Never forget," he says.

Journal #8 - Brainstorming: My Favorite Place(s)

1. My Room

- It is quiet and peaceful. A good place to relax.

- It has a good view of the mountains and the sunrise.

- A place where i can let loose and not care what anyone thinks of me. A place where i can express myself.

2. The park near my neighborhood

- It is very breezy there.

- A nice, peaceful place where you can lay on the green grass and read a book, listen to your iPod.

- There's this bench where i sit on and i reflect.

3. The Mall

- I can hang out with friends

- buy things (clothes, food, etc.)

- always full of people

Roots & Recipes - Final Revision

My Mom's Pinakbet

By Sharmaine Sebastian

Usually every Monday, as I walk through the main door of my house, I hear the chopping of string beans, garlic, and ginger. And I knew that my mom would be cooking her favorite dish today, Pinkabet. I have to say that this is my favorite Filipino dish too!

I go to the kitchen, dropping all of my bags and books to the floor, smelling the aroma of squash, okra, eggplant, tomatoes, and bitter melons being boiled in bagoong. I used to hate that smell as a kid, but I got over it and learned to love it. My mother greets me with a sweet hello, and I smile back at her knowing that in about half an hour, those veggies would be melting in my mouth.

You know, I never did see my mom use measuring utensils before. And to this day, I’m still confused about how my mom would know when the food is done without a timer, or even how she would know that the taste is perfect, that it might need something to give it that zing.

I shuffle back and forth from my room to the kitchen. The sizzling bite-size pieces of pork that would soon be put into the pinakbet, were being sautéed in the frying pan. I saw my mother add a cup of water to the boiling pot. She lifted the cover and steam flew out of the pot, along with the different savory scents of the dish. I walked to the stove so that I could peek inside. The vegetables broiled under hot water. I could already smell the garlic, ginger, and bagoong.

It is 5:30 p.m. and I had just finished all my homework. I attempt to distract myself from what awaits me at the dinner table. I hear my stomach growling. I try to stop it by eating a piece of bread, but it just wouldn’t keep quiet.

I help my grandma set up the dinner table (it was all part of the plan to distract myself). My mother goes to the stove, grabs the pot, and places it on the table. She tells me to call all of our family to come up and eat. I became so annoyed because they took forever to walk up the stairs.

We’re all together now and my grandma removes the top of the pot. “Yummy” was all I could think about as the sight of squash, string beans, okra, eggplant, tomatoes, bitter melons, and shrimp came into view. Each of us took spoonfuls and poured it onto our plates. I could hear the sound of satisfaction from the people around me as I take a bite of the soft eggplant and the green string beans. It melted in my mouth like I knew it would. The sweetness from the squash complimented the saltiness of the shrimp and pork, as well as the bitterness if the bitter melon. I tried to make my plate last because I knew that if I went back for seconds, there would be nothing in the left in the pot when I get there.

Every time my mother makes pinakbet, I sense a positive vibe in the kitchen. I can see that this dish is very special and important to my mom because she always has to make it perfect as possible, without flaws. I sometimes ask myself, “Will she teach me how to make it one day?” I have hope in me that she will. It’s a tradition and I’ll be sure to carry it on.

Roots & Reicpes - Essay Draft

My Mother's Pinakbet

By Sharmaine Sebastian

Usually every Monday, as I walk through the main door of my house, I hear the chopping of string beans, garlic, and ginger. And I knew that my mom would be cooking her favorite dish today, Pinkabet. I have to say that this is my favorite Filipino dish too, next to pancit.

I go to the kitchen, dropping all of my bags and books to the floor, smelling the aroma of squash, okra, eggplant, tomatoes, and bitter melons being boiled in bagoong. I used to hate that smell as a kid, but I got over it and learned to love it. My mother greets me with a sweet hello, and I smile back at her knowing that in about half an hour, those veggies would be melting in my mouth.

You know, I never did see my mom use measuring utensils before. And to this day, I’m still confused about how my mom would know when the food is done without a timer, or even how she would know that the taste is perfect, that it might need something to give it that zing.

I shuffle back and forth from my room to the kitchen. The sizzling bite-size pieces of pork that would soon be put into the pinakbet, were being sautéed in the frying pan. I saw my mother add a cup of water to the boiling pot. She lifted the cover and steam flew out of the pot, along with the different savory scents of the dish. I could already smell the garlic, ginger, and bagoong.

It is 5:30 p.m. and I had just finished all my homework. I attempt to distract myself from what awaits me at the dinner table. I hear my stomach growling. I try to stop it by eating a piece of bread, but it just wouldn’t keep quiet.

I help my grandma set up the dinner table (it was all part of the plan to distract myself). My mother goes to the stove, grabs the pot, and places it on the table. She tells me to call all of our family to come up and eat. I became so annoyed because they took forever to walk up the stairs.

We’re all together now and my grandma removes the top of the pot. “Yummy” was all I could think of as the sight of squash, string beans, okra, eggplant, tomatoes, bitter melons, and shrimp came into view. Each of us took spoonfuls and poured it on our plates. I could hear the sound of satisfaction from the people around me as I take a bite of the soft eggplant and the green string beans. It melted in my mouth like I knew it would. I tried to make my plate last because I knew that if I went back for seconds, there would be nothing in the pot when I get there.

Every time my mother makes pinakbet, I wonder if she’d teach me how to make it someday. I only helped her once, and only once! That kind of disappointed me because I knew that I could’ve done more than just wash the vegetables. I think the reason is that my mom is very, let’s say “protective” of her dish. I guess she didn’t want me to ruin it. But anyway, I know that she’s going to teach me how to make pinakbet. It’s a tradition and I’ll be sure to carry it on.

Roots & Recipes Interview - Pinakbet

Pinakbet Ilocano Style
Interview - August 29, 2009
Interviewer: Sharmaine Sebastian
Interviewee: Mother

Q: What is Pinkabet?
A: Pinakbet is a vegetable dish that I’ve had ever since I was a kid. It is very popular in the northern regions of the Philippines, including the place where I lived, which is Davila, Pasuquin, Ilocos Norte.

Q: What are your ingredients to making this dish?
A: The ingredients I use are SQUASH, STRING BEANS, OKRA (AKA LADY FINGERS), EGGPLANT, TOMATOES, BITTER MELONS, GINGER, GARLIC, FISH BAGOONG, PORK STRIPS, SHRIMP, WATER, VEGETABLE OIL. To season it I use salt and pepper.

Q: Is it tradition? If so, who started it?
A: Yes. I’m not sure who started it, but I learned it from my grandma.

Q: How long did it take you to master this dish?
A: Not long, it was very easy because I always used to watch my mom and grandma make it.

Q: What do you like about it? Why?
A: I’m not sure what I like about it. I guess I could say that I like everything because if I’m missing one of the ingredients, it wouldn’t really be Pinakbet.

Q: What or Who do you think of while making this dish?
A: I think of the Philippines and my grandparents.

Q: What reactions do you see when people first taste your dish? Do they look satisfied? Disappointed? Why do you think they react that way?
A: People react to my dish quite positively. They are happy with it and want to get up for seconds. I think they react that way because it probably reminds them of their home in the Philippines and they just enjoy the taste of it.

Q: What do you see or smell while making it?
A: I see vegetables being boiled in the pot and I smell the fish paste being mixed with the water.

Q: Do you use measuring utensils?
A: No, I never did in fact.