Kaylie’s Culture Gazette - PowerPoint Presentation

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Kaylie’s Culture Gazette

A Preview of All My Culture Projects From

World Literature

World History

Geometry Slide2

Her Endless Smile

A Personal Narrative About The Last Days of My Dog Clover

World Literature:

Personal Narrative Slide3

There she was, my gleeful and excitable dog Clover. She was the prettiest golden retriever I had ever seen, with her fluffy tail and furry, white nose that had always stood out against her otherwise golden fur. As she glanced at me through the mirror in the car, I winked back at her, excited to be able to take her to her favorite place in the world, my friend’s cottage. We took the long road trip to the cottage and eventually noticed that up ahead was the cow print sign, which meant we were there. As soon as we arrived, we noticed the cloudless sky of pure blue over the water and heard the sounds of crashing waves on the beach. It was the kind of day where sunglasses were necessary to shield my eyes from the brilliance of the sun’s rays. The car door opened, and Clover dashed down to the beach, but about half way there, she peered over her shoulder and glanced up at us. The look was almost asking for “permission” to run down to the beach and just barely dip her toes in the water. I responded with a nod in return, and Clover ran faster than I had ever seen her run before down to the beach. I unpacked the car as quickly as I could, so I could go down to the beach and play with her. Unfortunately, the fun had to end at some point. I found myself bringing her up from the beach to dry her paws off, and I saw the same look she gave me in the car ride, gleeful and excitable. She was so thrilled to be at the cottage that I only wish this moment could have lasted longer. Clover had an epic story that deserves to be told, and I believe that pets are more than animals, they are best friends. This was Clover to me, a best friend. Little did I know that when I stroked her fur on the beach that day, it was one of our last memorable events together.

World Literature:

Personal NarrativeSlide4

After we got home from the cottage, Clover had been getting sick in our house. For a dog that had been housed trained for all of her ten years, these accidents were uncharacteristic. We took her to the vet, but the results took days to get back; it felt like forever. Later we received the unfortunate news that she had a tumor, which allowed fluids to build up in her stomach pushing her lungs up and making it harder for her to breath. Her stomach grew bigger and bigger until she could not lay down on the ground without her stomach in the way. She had surgery to try to rectify the condition, but nothing was working. I could not believe that Clover went from being healthy on the beach one month prior to now being miserable. Though there were many problems with Clover’s health, the main problem was that we all knew that Clover was dying, and this idea of losing my best friend was unbearable.

World Literature:

Personal NarrativeSlide5

Eventually, the decision was made to have a party for Clover and her doggie friends to celebrate her life. We wanted to make sure she left this Earth knowing that she had a lot of fun and was loved deeply. We planned to have her party August 7th and intended to purchase doggie cake and ice cream. Unfortunately, it was a day before her party, on August 6th, when everything took a swift, painful turn for the worse. Clover’s health deteriorated rapidly, and as we came downstairs that morning, she looked at us as if to say, “I am done.” All I remember was my mom calling the vet and choking back sobs as she whispered, “We have to take her in now.” Clover was not going to get a party, she was not going to play once more with her doggie friends, and she was not going to say goodbye to all the other humans who loved her. Instead, Clover had to be brought into the vet to be put down. Though she did not realize it, she was leaving all her toys and her bed at home when she gets into that car, and she would never see them again.

World Literature:

Personal NarrativeSlide6

It was the car ride that was the most demanding on my emotions as Clover and I sat in the backseat with my brother and Mom in the front. Clover had stinky dog breath that was being blown on my face, but I did not mind. My mom continued driving while a river of tears ran down her face, even though she wants to stay strong for us. My brother could not control his emotions; he continues to cry the whole way to the animal hospital. I remember the emotions that were being mixed into the air, but really the only picture that was imprinted into my mind was the sad face of Clover. She knew something was going to happen to her. I pet Clover as I forced myself not to cry because I felt like this was not real, but rather, it was just like every car ride with Clover. She was going to come home with us and I would wake up to see her again tomorrow. Except when we walked into the building, it hit me. This was all happening too fast. Clover was not going to come home with me, and I was not going to see her the next day.

World Literature:

Personal NarrativeSlide7

I stood in the lobby with my mom and brother, looking down at my loyal and loving dog, Clover. She appeared to be smiling, but that could just be what my imagination was hoping to see. I wanted her to be happy, but I could not see her happy without us. I secretly thought of how many dogs she would meet in heaven and whether or not she would meet all our old dogs. All the while, I still could not look Clover in the eyes because it was too emotional. Just then, a nice women came into the lobby and said, as I held back my tears, “We can take you and Clover to the back room now.” Clover started to wobble over to the room, and soon the doctor made her sit down on the room’s floor. I sat right next to her on the cold and uncomfortable tile floor in a room that was white and brown. Though the colors and furniture present in the room were meant to be comforting, to us, they failed to do their job.

World Literature:

Personal NarrativeSlide8

I spent more time with Clover before they took her away to put an IV in her. At that moment, I realized what was going to happen to my best friend. I started to sob, and Clover gave me the same look she always had when I cried in the past. It is a look that asks, without speaking “are you okay?” However, this time I was not okay; I was losing my best friend to a tumor. I continued telling Clover stories of the best moments we had together and repeated how much I loved her over and over again in her ear. Soon, the doctor came in and asked if she could take Clover into the back to get the IV started. The doctor seemed calm and relaxed, like she has done this a billion times before. A few moments later, Clover and the doctor had returned, except Clover was limping due to the IV in her leg. The doctor gave us a few extra minutes, but it felt like an infinity of time to get to tell Clover stories. It was then that I recalled that day a month prior at my friend’s cottage. I whispered in her ear to recall that glorious day, and how her wet fur clung to my side as I wiped sand from between her toes. For a moment, even in my darkness and despair, I was able to visualize the brilliance of the sun on that day and a smile parted my lips.

World Literature:

Personal NarrativeSlide9

My thoughts were interrupted by the doctor’s voice, instructing Clover to lie down on the floor again while I continued to whisper to her. “I am going to put two shots in her. The first will make her get sleepy and she will naturally lay her head down,” the doctor began calmly. “Her head will lay down quickly so I want you to understand that she is just sleeping and she is still alive at this point. You can still speak to her, but the second shot will put her to sleep completely.” I was prepared for the first shot, but all I could do after that was lay on her back and cuddle with her. I was still talking to her when the doctor injected the second shot, but right before she did, Clover looked at me and smiled. With all that was taking place around her, it brought me peace to see her smile. When the second shot went in, her eyes closed, but her smile stayed still. It was her last smile. It was her last breath. I could see her pain melt away, and I could feel how her heavy burden had been lifted. The blood stopped flowing. All I could say to her, hoping she could still hear me, was, “It’s okay Clover, you're okay now.” As I lifted her light head, there was no proof of life left in her now motionless body.

World Literature:

Personal NarrativeSlide10

We eventually made it out of the hospital while dragging our sadness out the door with us. The car ride home felt like it was never ending. I could not be in the car without Clover, and I could not think of a time when Clover was not in that minivan with us. The car had strands of Clover’s goldenfur and traces of her spirit that seemed to resonate throughout the minivan. Each day after that, we were reminded by Clover in every way possible. When we left the house, I would say, “Come on Clover, let’s go!” I was so disappointed every time I said it because she did not come sliding through the kitchen and charging out the door with me. Clover also used to lay right under my feet as they dangled from the couch forcing me to avoid stepping on her by stretching my feet over her. That habit of mine was no longer necessary. Nothing anyone said or did could fix the problem that Clover was not going to be coming home.

World Literature:

Personal NarrativeSlide11

Clover’s bed still rests in the same place, and even now, I glance over at it to see if I can visualize her elegantly smiling. Though my imagination sees her gleaming grin, when I blink, I can not find it anymore. Every so often, I see her playing outside or even laying next to my bed as I sleep. However, when she is not with me in spirit, I hope she is playing at the cottage that she loved so much. I hope she sees the cloudless sky of pure blue over the water and hears the sounds of crashing waves on the beach. I picture her on that summer day, with her wet fur and sandy paws, and I imagine that this is her heaven.

Clover is my best friend, and though she is not coming back, I will never stop wishing she was.

World Literature:

Personal NarrativeSlide12

Italian Culture

World HistorySlide13

Movement

Italians Make The Move To America

In the years 1900-1915 (data from chart on previous Slide ), approximately 3 million Italians came to America. They came from regions all over Italy but mostly Southern Italy. In southern Italy, the bloody World War 1 occurred. The World War 1 drove many Italians out of Italy and to America, but many Italians were not planning on staying forever. There were only so many jobs that Italians got in America. ⅔ of the immigrant population were farm laborers and did not have much work experience in factories like mining and making clothing. The ⅓ of immigrant population included craftsman from the south that could read and write. Some immigrants actually did have the ability to make clothes and they used this ability to find a job in America. These textile workers were from Piedmont and Tuscany in Italy. Some of the other of the immigrants worked in mines and brought that ability to America. These miners were from Umbria and Sicily. 1913 was a record high year for immigration and I believe this was due to the WW1 in Italy. Due to WW1 in Italy, many Italians came to America. They were discriminated against because many Americans didn’t like that they were coming to take their jobs away from them. Italians decided to take the work that nobody else would take like mining. Usually if you have more skills then you have a better chance of getting a job, but in this case many Italians didn’t have any skills that were valued in the U.S. so they got stuck with the low pay and harder jobs. Italians became a big part of the mining industry and Americans did the jobs that were higher pay and not so risking to their health like mining was. It is unknown exactly where my family lived and what their lives were like in Italy. This was due to a lack of evidence or information left behind about my family.

World History Slide14

Geometry

Italian Culture through Symmetry

Horizontal Symmetry

When you draw a Horizontal Line through the Middle of the shape Both sides will be mirror images of each other. Slide15

Italy’s Flag

The current form of this flag has been used since June 19th, 1946. The green in the flag stands for the plains and hills, the white stands for the Snowy Alps, and the red stands for the wars for independence.

GeometrySlide16

Geometry

Vertical Symmetry

When you draw a vertical line down the middle of the shape Both sides will be mirror images of each other. Slide17

Geometry

Milan Cathedral

Is The catholic Church In Milan, Italy and home to the ArchBishop Of MIlan. It is a catholic Church and is the fifth largest cathedral in the world. It is also the largest cathedral in the Italian territories.