RAFT

Civil War RAFT Creative Writing Assignment

I am writing from the perspective of a Black Union Soldier to his children at the time of the Civil War.


Dear Jeremiah and Harriet,

      I am writing to you from the folds of my bedroll. Once soft, it is now crusted and yellow, crackling against my skin. The night is silent, almost eerie, c'ept for the raucous cries of the wounded, agonizing in the pale moonlight. I feel more at risk sitting hear amongst the bitter cold and disease, the charging through the battlefield in my tattered shreds. I hope this letter finds you well and safe, far away from this blasted war. I don't believe in all of this bloodshed. But I do believe in Lincon, and the pride of the North. I believe that thy Lord will look down upon our battles, and will shine His light on the blackened hearts of the confederates. Don't hold grudges against your countrymen, they too will see the light, and accept our equality. They have become our sworn enemies, but one day, they will be our brethren once more. Too many brave men have perished on this very Earth for there to be any other outcome.
      Stay strong, and pray for peace. I will come home to you again.

                Jonathon Berkely

What two factors aid justice, what two factors impede Justices?

The dictionary definition of justice states that it is the application of the law, the quality of being fair and reasonable, and just behavior or treatment. But I think that justice means a little more than just that. It means being respectful, being open, and spreading human kindness.

 So what helps to aid justice and support this kindness? All humans have an innate instinct to help their fellow beings, to fight for the common good, and plea for their freedom. Martin Luther King Jr. protested against all the odds to save his people from the ties of segregation. In World War 2 Japanese immigrants would help and share with each other in the camps, leaning on their community members for guidance. 

But not everybody realizes the kindness within them. And so Justice is impeded by the evil of other humans, and this evil causes the conflicts we experience even in the world today.

So Justice is aided by the kindness of humans, but torn down by the evil of others. How does the good in people overcome the bad in this world? Why is it so hard to be respectful, be open, and spread human kindness?

Another factor that I believe aids justice is family. With family, people learn to respect their elders and the ideas of others. With family, people learn how to love and care for one other. With family, people learn how to have faith and be fair to others, to be reasonable. They learn justice in its purest form. 

But, again, family can impede justice. Those who have had bad childhood, maybe with uncaring parents, or unsupportive family members, are often unhappy. If their childhood is perhaps devoid of any love and care, it results in unhappiness in the world. They think why should anyone deserve what they never had? And so evil is now spread.

Justice is a balancing scale. The very things that aid justice can impede it.

So how can we be respectful, be open, and spread human kindness?

Why can’t we all just be nice?

What does it mean to be a witness? And how do witnesses relate to World War 2? 

     A witness isn't just a man or a woman who stands up in front of a judge, and then answers question restating what they viewed. A witness isn't just an observer. A witness isn't just a person caught in the right place at the right time. 

      A witness is a man or a woman with power. Millions of people were witnesses to the Holocaust. There were millions who were not fighting, or being attacked, or forced into submission. Millions around the globe  were  just  witnesses. Witnesses who held power, and had potential.

     Imagine if every one of those witnesses spoke up and protested. Not just a few here and then, or even a large group. But every witness, and every bystander. 

    When we visited the Museum of Tolerance and the Japanese American Museum, my take on what it means to be a witness completely transformed. I realized that many people were witnesses to the Holocaust. They were bystanders to the camps in Europe and in America. They were bystanders to cruel and unfair events. And even when some thought it was wrong, they remained silent witnesses. But being silent and voiceless isn't what it means to be a witness. 

     Imagine how the world could change even today, if every witness to evil spoke up for good. Imagine how life would change if every bystander became a fighter, a fighter for something better. Imagine if being a witness meant having power, the power to change the future. 

Imagine that witness is you.

What if you had a time capsule, and you could only pick four things to put inside of it? The four objects would only be able to represent your childhood, heritage, accomplishments, and legacy. And then what type of container would you put your items inside?

If it were me, I would put a sand dollar to reflect my childhood. Every summer on the sand, collecting sea shells, and watching the waves. A photograph of my great grandmother, who changed my mother's life, to represent my heritage. I would put my mission to mars medal in, an accomplishment. Lastly I would put a picture of my family, to represent the people I leave behind. Those I love and will carry on the legacy of my generation. 

I would put all of my items in a glass bottle and fling it into the ocean, because the sea represents me. Rolling and changing, I wouldn't want to know where my time capsule ends up. 

Has there ever been a symbol that occurs repeatedly throughout your life, reflecting something important to you?

In the book, The Glory Field, many motifs transpire throughout the tale, which have meanings relating back to the characters. But sometime those motifs mirror in your own life story. A symbol relating back to my own would be the idea of: new earth, dirt, and harvesting. To me, this also means starting over and building up a new life. Similar to what the generations throughout the years had to do in the Glory Field. 

After we moved, we began building a new house. A new life. I think that relates to lives the characters had to grow from the soil in the harvest. The motif of new earth, and building again is really an important symbol, that appears in the lives of many who have ever hoped for a better future

If you think about it, about it, a little over a hundred years ago, the Western United States was pretty wild. 

Except for the Natives who lived there, the land was relatively untouched. When the United States bought the remainder of what is now the US, and everyone kind of wanted to know what we had purchased. Slowly over time, pioneers and settlers started moving West, beginning new homesteads and towns in this unexplored region. 

This brings about that idea of Children of the West. 

I have lived in California my whole life, and I feel this identifies with me. But I have family spread all across the country, so where do I actually belong?

Honestly, I don't think it actually matters. You can be a Child of the West if that's what's important to you. Our ancestors may or may not have been pioneers of the West. But this is where I (you) am now. 

So being a child of the West isn't based on facts, or where you were born, or even who your ancestors were. It's a personal identity, and you deciding where HOME is.

Has there been any moment in my life where you have felt grown up? That one day you become a woman, or a man.

That moment for me was one night, a few years ago. My brother was staying at a friend's house, and my parents were going to dinner. That evening, my mom told me to make sure to lock the house, feed the dogs, make dinner, and watch over my little sister. Because I were pretty young, that was the first night my parents had trusted us to stay home alone. Everything was going fine, until about an hour later when the power went out. My little sister was extremely frightened, but I remember lighting candles, bringing our dogs inside, and turning the television on, to help her feel more comfortable and safe. The power was still out for a while, but the as the TV blared, I remember feeling a sense of accomplished. My parents had trusted me, and I had kept their trust that night. That was one of the moments I grew up.