Cuyahoga Falls High School

Cuyahoga Falls High School Enriched Language Arts – 12 Summer Reading Assignment 2015

Each student enrolled in Enriched Language Arts – 12 is required to read three novels and several poems from a poetry packet (provided by the teacher) over the summer. The content of these readings will be discussed and tested during the first few weeks of the school year. It is mandatory that each student read the selected literature as the written assignments will count on the first quarter grading period. The following assignments are to accompany the reading and will be due on the first day of class. Each answer must be typed, in proper MLA format (complete with in-text, parenthetical citations). Treat each essay question like an analytical body paragraph with a minimum of three direct quotes per paragraph from the novel. Treat each theme from the poetry like an analytical body paragraph with a minimum of three direct quotes per paragraph from the poems. A Works Cited page should be included at the end, citing the novels and poems in proper MLA style (one total with all the sources cited).

Beloved – Toni Morrison 1. Reflect on the detailed attention that Morrison gives to the following experiences found in the novel (it is clear they are meant to shock and disturb the reader): Paul D on the chain gang, locked in the box; Paul’s experience with the bit; the milking of Sethe; School Teacher’s recording of the slaves’ animal characteristics; Sixo’s death. What is the effect of those experiences on those who live them? 2. Discuss the metaphorical and/or symbolic elements found in the following characters: Sethe Denver Beloved 3. Discuss Sethe’s account of her past action 18 years earlier. What motivated those actions? What finally precipitates Beloved’s departure? What effect does her removal have on those left behind?

Black Boy – Richard Wright 1. One critic claims: “All of us can learn from the life story of Richard Wright. It is, on the one hand, a success story, the story of a man who achieved greatness in the face of almost insuperable obstacles. But it is also a story that illustrates that the wounds of youth can never be fully healed.” Respond to this claim, as well as, explain how the theme of “self creation” develops within the story.

2. How did the Jim Crow South advocate violence and oppression? What experiences did Wright encounter with this? How did those experiences shape him and help him find his voice in order to satisfy his yearning for self expression?

3. Among the titles that Wright considered for this autobiographical novel was, American Hunger. Why would this have made an appropriate title for the novel? What literal and figurative hunger did Wright long to satisfy? Explain your answers.

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings – Maya Angelou 1. Discuss the themes of “guilt” and “abandonment” found within the novel. Give several examples of how these themes played out throughout the book.

2. There are several times in the book when Maya asserts her independence. Explain five of these and discuss why they are important to her overall development.

3. Discuss the concept of southern fundamentalism and explain how it influenced the children’s lives.

Poetry Analysis 1. Using at least five poems from the packet, analyze the following for each poem: Mood Message Symbolism

All poetry was taken from the following source:

Anthology: Cornerstones: An Anthology of African American Literature

Edited by: Melvin Donalson

City of Publication: New York

Publishing Company: St. Martin’s Press

CFHS Enriched Language Arts 12 Poetry Packet We Wear the Mask By Paul Laurence Dunbar

We wear the mask that grins and lies, It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes, --- This debt we pay to human guile; With torn and bleeding hearts we smile, And mouth with myriad subtleties.

Why should the world by over-wise, In counting all our tears and sighs? Nay, let them only see us, while We wear the mask.

We smile, but, O great Christ, our cries To thee from tortured souls arise. We sing, but oh the clay is vile Beneath our feet, and long the mile; But let the world dream otherwise, We wear the mask.

From the Dark Tower By Countee Cullen

We shall not always plant while others reap The golden increment of bursting fruit, Not always countenance, abject and mute, The lesser men should hold their brothers cheap; Not everlastingly while others sleep Shall we beguile our limbs with mellow flute, Not always bend to some more subtle brute; We were not made eternally to weep.

The night whose sable breast relieves the stark, White stars is no less lovely being dark, And there are buds that cannot bloom at all In light, but crumple, piteous, and fall; So in the dark we hide the heart that bleeds, And wait, and tend our agonizing seeds. Bury Me in a Free Land By Frances E. W. Harper

Make me a grave where’re you will, In the lowly plain, or a lofty hill; Make it among earth’s humblest graves, But not in a land where men are slaves.

I could not rest if around my grave I heard the steps of a trembling slave; His shadow above my silent tomb Would make it a place of fearful gloom.

I could not rest if I heard the tread Of a coffle gang to the shambles led, And the mother’s shriek of wild despair Rise like a curse on the trembling air.

I could not sleep if I saw the lash Drinking her blood at every fearful gash, And I saw her babes torn from her breast, Like trembling doves torn from their parent nest.

I’d shudder and start if I heard the bay Of bloodhounds seizing their human prey, And I heard the captive plead in vain As they bound afresh his galling chain.

If I saw young girls from their mother’s arms Bartered and sold for their youthful charms, My eye would flash with a mournful flame, My death-paled cheek grow red with shame.

I would sleep, dear friends, where bloated might Can rob no man of his dearest right; My rest shall be calm in any grave Where none can call his brother a slave.

I ask no monument, proud and high, To arrest the gaze of the passers-by; All that my yearning spirit craves, Is bury me not in a land of slaves. Poems by Claude McKay

If We Must Die If we must die, let it not be like hogs Hunted and penned in an inglorious spot, While round us bark the mad and hungry dogs, Making their mock at our accursed lot. If we must die, O let us nobly die, So that our precious blood may not be shed In vain; then even the monsters we defy Shall be constrained to honor us thought dead! O kinsmen! We must meet the common foe! Though far outnumbered let us show us brave, And for their thousand blows deal one deathblow! What though before us lies the open grave? Like men we’ll face the murderous, cowardly pack, Pressed to the wall, dying, but fighting back!

The White House Your door is shut against my tightened face, And I am sharp as steel with discontent; But I possess the courage and the grace To bear my anger proudly and unbent. The pavement slabs burn loose beneath my feet, A chafing savage, down the decent street; And passion rends my vitals as I pass, Where boldly shines your shuttered door of glass. Oh, I must search for wisdom every hour, Deep in my wrathful bosom sore and raw, And find in it the superhuman power To hold me to the letter of your law! Oh, I must keep my heart inviolate Against the potent poison of your hate.

America Although she feeds me bread of bitterness, And sinks into my throat her tiger’s tooth, Stealing my breath of life, I will confess I love this cultured hell that tests my youth! Her vigor flows like tides into my blood, Giving me strength against her hate. Her bigness sweeps by being like a flood. Yet as a rebel fronts a king in state, I stand within her walls with not a shred Of terror, malice, not a word of jeer. Darkly I gaze into the days ahead, And see her might and granite wonders there, Beneath the touch of Time’s unerring hand, Like priceless treasures sinking in the sand. Poetry by Langston Hughes

As I Grew Older Democracy

It was a long time ago. Democracy will not come I have almost forgotten my dream. Today, this year But it was there then, Nor ever In front of me, Through compromise and fear. Bright like a sun - My dream. I have as much right As the other fellow has And then the wall rose, To stand Rose slowly, On my two feet Slowly, And own the land. Between me and my dream. Rose slowly, slowly I tire so of hearing people say, Dimming, Let things take their course. Hiding, Tomorrow is another day. The light of my dream. I do not need my freedom when I’m Rose until it touched the sky - dead. The wall. I cannot live on tomorrow’s bread.

Shadow. Freedom I am black. Is a strong seed Planted I lie down in the shadow. In a great need. No longer the light of my dreams before me, I live here, too. Above me. I want freedom Only the thick wall. Just like you. Only the shadow.

My hands! My dark hands! Break through the wall! Find my dream! Help me to shatter this darkness, To smash this night, To break this shadow Into a thousand lights of sun, Into a thousand whirling dreams Of sun!