ELA – Grade 7 Monday, May 4 – Friday, May 8 Unit 4: Memoir

PURPOSE

● I can analyze how an author develops and contrasts the points of view of different characters or narrators in a text. (RL.6)

● I can write narratives to develop real or imagined experiences or events using effective technique, relevant descriptive details, and well-structured event sequences.(W.3)

WATCH

Monday: Read the short story “Eleven” by Sandra Cisneros. Make annotations. Audio found here: https://youtu.be/yzDLNE1OyVM *Can be printed for screen-free time.

Wednesday: Read the short story “Seventh Grade” by Gary Soto. Make notes. Audio found here: https://youtu.be/-ryL3VDRimM *Can be printed for screen-free time.

PRACTICE Monday: While reading Eleven by Sandra Cisneros, complete the annotations (some sample ones are done for you.) Then, answer the text dependent questions. *This can be done on loose leaf paper as a screen-free activity.

Tuesday: Review Eleven. Complete the graphic organizer and compose a Disagreement Letter. *This can be done on loose leaf paper as a screen-free activity.

Wednesday: Read Seventh Grade by Gary Soto. Create a Mind Map of Victor. *This can be done on loose leaf paper as a screen-free activity.

Thursday: Review Seventh Grade by Gary Soto, complete the text dependent questions. *This can be done on loose leaf paper as a screen-free activity.

DISCUSS Tuesday: Sandra Cisneros presents the theme that no matter how old we get, there are still stressful moments in life when you feel like a child. Think about the events happening in our world today. Have you seen any situations where someone acted younger than their actual age? Why do you think they responded this way? Discuss your observations with a sibling, parent, or peer via safe communication.

Thursday: Your writing assignment for tomorrow will be to compose a NARRATIVE.

Select either Eleven by Sandra Cisneros or Seventh Grade by Gary Soto to rewrite from the point of view of the antagonist or supporting character. Be sure to reveal the point of view through characterization, dialogue, and figurative language while remaining consistent with the literary elements of the original story.

Create a Mind Map of the story told from another character’s point of view. Present your story ideas to a family member or peer via safe communication.

PRODUCT

Friday: Complete all stages of the Writing Process. A Checklist has been provided.

Prompt: Choose Eleven by Sandra Cisneros or Seventh Grade by Gary Soto to rewrite from the point of view of the antagonist or supporting character. Be sure to reveal point of view through characterization, dialogue, and figurative language while remaining consistent to the literary elements of the original story. *Screen-free activity

“Eleven” by Sandra Cisneros

About the Author: Sandra Cisneros In addition to being a writer, Sandra Cisneros has worked as a teacher and counselor. Cisneros grew up in Chicago, Illinois, in the 1950s and 1960s during the Chicano Movement. (Chicano refers to people of Mexican descent who were born in the United States.) In the U.S., the 1950s and 1960s were marked by the struggle of minorities such as African Americans, Chicanos, and women to have their rights recognized and to gain equal rights and social justice. Cisneros moved back and forth between Chicago and Mexico with her working-class family as she grew up. After living much of her adult life in San Antonio, Texas, she returned to Mexico.

Annotations

“Eleven”

What they don’t understand about birthdays and what they never tell Highlight the details you is that when you’re eleven, you’re also ten, and nine, and eight, and in the exposition that seven, and six, and five, and four, and three, and two, and one. And when establish the point of view of the story. you wake up on your eleventh birthday you expect to feel eleven, but you

don’t. You open your eyes and everything’s just like yesterday, only it’s today. And you don’t feel eleven at all. You feel like you’re still ten. And you are—underneath the year that makes you eleven. Like some days you might say something stupid, and that’s the part of you that’s still ten. Or maybe some days you might need to sit on your mama’s lap because you’re scared, and that’s the part of you that’s five. And maybe one day when you’re all grown up maybe you will need to cry like if you’re three, and that’s okay. That’s what I tell Mama when she’s Underline details that sad and needs to cry. Maybe she’s feeling three. help the reader Because the way you grow old is kind of like an onion or like the rings understand the narrator’s feelings inside a tree trunk or like my little wooden dolls that fit one inside the about age and her other, each year inside the next one. That’s how being eleven years old eleventh birthday. is. You don’t feel eleven. Not right away. It takes a few days, weeks even, sometimes even months before you say Eleven when they ask you. And you don’t feel smart eleven, not until you’re almost twelve. That’s the way it is. Only today I wish I didn’t have only eleven years rattling inside me like pennies in a tin Band-Aid box. Today I wish I was one hundred and two instead of eleven because if I was one hundred and two I’d have known Draw an appropriate what to say when Mrs. Price put the red sweater on my desk. I would’ve emoticon next to paragraphs that known how to tell her it wasn’t mine instead of just sitting there with that reflect how the look on my face and nothing coming out of my mouth. narrator feels about “Whose is this?” Mrs. Price says, and she holds the red sweater up in herself and other the air for all the class to see. “Whose? It’s been sitting in the coatroom for characters. a month.” “Not mine,” says everybody. “Not me.” “It has to belong to somebody, ”Mrs. Price keeps saying, but nobody can remember. It’s an ugly sweater with red plastic buttons and a collar and sleeves all stretched out like you could use it for a jump rope. It’s Draw brackets maybe a thousand years old and even if it belonged to me I wouldn’t say [ ] around repetitive text so. revealing the Maybe because I’m skinny, maybe because she doesn’t like me, that narrator’s inner stupid Sylvia Saldivar says, “I think it belongs to Rachel.” An ugly sweater conflict. like that all raggedy and old, but Mrs. Price believes her. Mrs. Price takes the sweater and puts it right on my desk, [but when I open my mouth nothing comes out.] “That’s not, I don’t, you’re not…Not mine.” I finally say in a little voice that was maybe me when I was four. “Of course it’s yours, ”Mrs. Price says. “ I remember you wearing it once.” Because she’s older and the teacher, she’s right and I’m not.

Not mine, not mine, not mine, but Mrs. Price is already turning to page thirty-two, and math problem number four. I don’t know why but all of a sudden I’m feeling sick inside, like the part of me that’s three wants to come out of my eyes, only I squeeze them shut tight and bite down on my teeth real hard and try to remember today I am eleven, eleven. Mama is making a cake for me for tonight, and when Papa comes home everybody will sing Happy birthday, happy birthday to you. Circle specific But when the sick feeling goes away and I open my eyes, the red actions the narrator sweater’s still sitting there like a big red mountain. I move the red sweater takes to reveal her to the corner of my desk with my ruler. I move my pencil and books and feelings about the red eraser as far from it as possible. I even move my chair a little to the right. sweater.

Not mine, not mine, not mine.

In my head I’m thinking how long till lunchtime, how long till I can take the red sweater and throw it over the schoolyard fence, or leave it hanging on a parking meter, or bunch it up into a little ball and toss it in the alley. Except when math period ends Mrs. Price says loud and in front of everybody, “Now, Rachel, that’s enough,” because she sees I’ve shoved the red sweater to the tippy-tip corner of my desk and it’s hanging all over the edge like a waterfall, but I don’t care. “Rachel, ”Mrs. Price says. She says it like she’s getting mad. “You put that sweater on right now and no more nonsense.” “But it’s not –“

“Now!” Mrs. Price says.

This is when I wish I wasn’t eleven because all the years inside of me—ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, and one—are pushing at the back of my eyes when I put one arm through one sleeve of the sweater that smells like cottage cheese, and then the other arm through the other and stand there with my arms apart like if the sweater hurts me and it does, all itchy and full of germs that aren’t even mine. Place a checkmark √ That’s when everything I’ve been holding in since this morning, since in the margin when Mrs. Price put the sweater on my desk, finally lets go, and all of a indicating the climax sudden I’m crying in front of everybody. I wish I was invisible but I’m not. of the story. I’m eleven and it’s my birthday today and I’m crying like I’m three in front of everybody. I put my head down on the desk and bury my face in my stupid clown-sweater arms. My face all hot and spit coming out of my mouth because I can’t stop the little animal noises from coming out of me until there aren’t any more tears left in my eyes, and it’s just my body shaking like when you have the hiccups, and my whole head hurts like when you drink milk too fast. But the worst part is right before the bell rings for lunch. That stupid Double underline the Phyllis Lopez, who is even dumber than Sylvia Saldivar, says she text that shows the remembers the red sweater is hers. I take it off right away and give it to resolution of Rachel’s her, only Mrs. Price pretends like everything’s okay. inner conflict. Today I’m eleven. There’s a cake Mama’s making for tonight and when Papa comes home from work we’ll eat it. There’ll be candles and presents and everybody will sing Happy birthday, happy birthday to you, Rachel, only it’s too late. How has Rachel I’m eleven today. I’m eleven, ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, grown older today? three, two, and one, but I wish I was one hundred and two. I wish I was Draw a star next anything but eleven. Because I want today to be far away already, far to the paragraphs away like a runaway balloon, like a tiny o in the sky, so tiny—tiny you that show Rachel’s have to close your eyes to see it. change of perspective.

“Eleven” Text Dependent Questions

Directions: Reread the short story “Eleven” by Sandra Cisneros. Use your annotations to help you answer the questions. See examples of constructed responses here.

1. Throughout the story, Rachel’s reactions to story events are demonstrated through multiple years within her eleven year old self. How does this help the reader understand Rachel’s point of view?

2. How does the teacher singling Rachel out as the sweater owner make her feel? How does Rachel react and respond?

3. Read the following lines: “Because the way you grow old is like an onion or like the rings outside of a tree trunk. Like my little wooden dolls that fit one inside the other, each year inside the next one” What does this use of figurative language indicate about Rachel’s feelings? What does the author’s word choice help the reader envision? How does this visualization let the reader know the narrator’s point of view of aging?

4. When Sylvia says the sweater belongs to Rachel, how does Rachel respond? What does this tell the reader about how Rachel sees herself?

5. Identify each time Rachel claims “not mine.” Why does the author repeat this refrain throughout the story and how does it impact the overall meaning and tone of the story? What does it show about Rachel?

6. Read the following line: “I squeeze them shut tight and bite down on my teeth real hard and try to remember today I am eleven.” How do Rachel’s actions demonstrate her character? How does this physical response to the situation help Rachel? How does remembering at this moment that she is eleven today impact her? How is this part of the paragraph and her response much different from her reaction in the beginning at the beginning of the story??

“Eleven” by Sandra Cisneros Graphic Organizer/Disagreement Letter

PART A: Complete the chart. The first one has been started for you. Story Rachel’s Text Evidence Mrs. Price’s Text Evidence Topic Point of View Point of VIew

Rachel sees the This is shown Mrs. Price sees the This is the red red sweater as a through Rachel’s red sweater as an demonstrated when sweater source of conflict. inner dialogue unnecessary she impatiently when………. interruption. states……….

respecting authority

honesty

social injustice

PART B: Imagine you are Rachel’s parents and your daughter just came home from school on her 11th Birthday. Compose a disagreement letter from Rachel’s parents to Mrs. Price expressing your concerns about the manner in which Rachel was treated.

For additional information about Disagreement Letters as well as examples, click here. https://howtowritealetter.net/letter-of-disagreement.html#

“Seventh Grade” by Gary Soto

On the first day of school, Victor stood in line half an hour before he came to a wobbly card table. He was handed a packet of papers and a computer card on which he listed his one elective, French. He already spoke Spanish and English, but he thought some day he might travel to France, where it was cool; not like Fresno, where summer days reached 110 degrees in the shade. There were rivers in France, and huge churches, and fair-skinned people everywhere, the way there were brown people all around Victor. Besides, Teresa, a girl he had liked since they were in catechism classes at Saint Theresa’s, was taking French, too. With any luck they would be in the same class. Teresa is going to be my girl this year, he promised himself as he left the gym full of students in their new fall clothes. She was cute. And good in math, too, Victor thought as he walked down the hall to his homeroom. He ran into his friend, Michael Torres, by the water fountain that never turned off. They shook hands, raza-style, and jerked their heads at one another in a saludo de vato. “How come you’re making a face?” asked Victor. “I ain’t making a face, ese. This is my face.” Michael said his face had changed during the summer. He had read a GQ magazine that his older brother had borrowed from the Book Mobile and noticed that the male models all had the same look on their faces. They would stand, one arm around a beautiful woman, and scowl. They would sit at the pool, their rippled stomachs dark with shadow, and scowl. They would sit at dinner tables, cool drinks in their hands, and scowl, “I think it works,” Michael said. He scowled and let his upper lip quiver. His teeth showed along with the ferocity of his soul. “Belinda Reyes walked by a while ago and looked at me,” he said. Victor didn’t say anything, though he thought his friend looked pretty strange. They talked about recent movies, baseball, their parents, and the horrors of picking grapes in order to buy their fall clothes. Picking grapes was like living in Siberia, except hot and more boring. “What classes are you taking?” Michael said, scowling. “French. How ‘bout you?” “Spanish. L ain’t so good at it, even if I’m Mexican." “I’m not either, but I’m better at it than math, that’s for sure.” A tiny, three-beat bell propelled students to their homerooms. The two friends socked each other in the arm and went their ways, Victor thinking, man, that’s weird. Michael thinks making a face makes him handsome. On the way to his homeroom, Victor tried a scowl. He felt foolish, until out of the corner of his eye he saw a girl looking at hint Umm, he thought, maybe it does work. He scowled with greater conviction. In the homeroom, roll was taken, emergency cards were passed out, and they were given a bulletin to take home to their parents. The principal, Mr. Belton, spoke over the crackling loudspeaker, welcoming the students to a new year, new experiences, and new friendships. The students squirmed in their chairs and ignored him, they were anxious to go to first period. Victor sat calmly, thinking of Teresa, who sat two rows away, reading a paperback novel. This would be his lucky year. She was in his homeroom, and would probably be in his English and math classes. And, of course, French. The bell rang for first period, and the students herded noisily through the door. Only Teresa lingered, talking with the homeroom teacher. “So you think I should talk to Mrs. Gaines?” she asked the teacher. “She would know about ballet?” “She would be a good bet,” the teacher said. Then added, “Or the gym teacher, Mrs. Garza." Victor lingered, keeping his head down and staring at his desk. He wanted to leave when she did so he could bump into her and say something clever. He watched her on the sly. As she turned to leave, he stood up and hurried to the door, where he managed to catch her eye. She smiled and said, “Hi, Victor." He smiled back and said, “Yeah, that's me.” His brown face blushed. Why hadn’t he said, “Hi, Teresa,” or "How was your summer?” or something nice. As Teresa walked down the hall, Victor walked the other way, looking back, admiring how gracefully she walked, one foot in front of the other. So much for being in the same class, he thought. As he trudged to English, he practiced scowling. In English they reviewed the parts of speech. Mr. Lucas, a portly man, waddled down the aisle, asking, “What is a noun?” “A person, place, or thing,” said the class in unison. Yes, now somebody give me an example of a person--you, Victor Rodriguez.” "Teresa,” Victor said automatically. Some of the girls giggled. They knew he had a crush on Teresa. He felt himself blushing again. “Correct,” Mr. Lucas said. “Now provide me with a place.” Mr. Lucas called on a freckled kid who answered, “Teresa’s house with a kitchen full of big brothers.” After English, Victor had math, his weakest subject. He sat in the back by the window, hoping that he would not be called on. Victor understood most of the problems, but some of the stuff looked like the teacher made it up as she went along. It was confusing, like the inside of a watch. After math he had a fifteen-minute break, then social studies, and finally lunch. He bought a tuna casserole with buttered rolls, some fruit cocktail, and milk. He sat with Michael, who practiced scowling between bites, Girls walked by and looked at him, “See what I mean, Vic?” Michael scowled. "They love it.” Yeah, I guess so. They ate slowly, Victor scanning the horizon for a glimpse of Teresa. He didn’t see her. She must have brought lunch, he thought, and is eating outside. Victor scraped his plate and left Michael, who was busy scowling at a girl two tables away. The small, triangle-shaped campus bustled with students talking about their new classes. Everyone was in a sunny mood. Victor hurried to the bag lunch area, where he sat down and opened his math book. He moved his lips as if he were reading, but his mind was somewhere else. He raised his eyes slowly and looked around. No Teresa. He lowered his eyes, pretending to study, then looked slowly to the left. No Teresa. He turned a page in the book and stared at some math problems that scared him because he knew he would have to do them eventually. He looked at the right. Still no sign of her. He stretched out lazily in an attempt to disguise his snooping. Then he saw her. She was sitting with a girlfriend under a plum tree. Victor moved to a table near her and daydreamed about taking her to a movie. When the bell sounded, Teresa looked up, and their eyes met. She smiled sweetly and gathered her books. Her next class was French,same as Victor’s. They were among the last students to arrive in class, so all the good desks in the back had already been taken. Victor was forced to sit near the front, a few desks away from Teresa, while Mr. Bueller wrote French words on the chalkboard. The bell rang, and Mr. Bueller wiped his hands,turned to the class, and said, “Bonjour.” “Bonjour,” braved a few students. “Bonjour” Victor whispered. He wondered if Teresa heard him. Mr. Bueller said that if the students studied hard, at the end of the year they could go to France and be understood by the populace. One kid raised his hand and asked, “‘What’s ‘populace’?” "The people, the people of France.” Mr. Bueller asked if anyone knew French. Victor raised his hand, wanting to impress Teresa. The teacher beamed and said, “Tres bien. Parlez-vous francais?” Victor didn’t know what to say. The teacher wet his lips and asked something else in French. The room grew silent. Victor felt all eyes staring at him. He tried to bluff his way out by making noises that sounded French. “La me vave me con le grandma,” he said uncertainly. Mr. Bueller, wrinkling his face in curiosity, asked him to speak up. Great rosebushes of red bloomed on Victor’s cheeks. A river of nervous sweat ran down his palms. He felt awful. Teresa sat a few desks away, no doubt thinking he was a fool. Without looking at Mr. Bueller, Victor mumbled, ‘Frenchie oh wewe gee in September.” Mr. Bueller asked Victor to repeat what he said. “Frenchie oh wewe gee in September," Victor repeated. Mr. Bueller understood that the boy didn’t know French and turned away. He walked to the blackboard and pointed to the words on the board with his steel-edged ruler. "Le bateau,” he sang. “Le bateau,” the students repeated. "Le bateau est sur l’eau,” he sang. “Le bateau est sur l’eau.” Victor was too weak from failure to join the class. He stared at the board and wished he had taken Spanish, not French. Better yet, he wished he could start his life over. He had never been so embarrassed. He bit his thumb until he tore off a sliver of skin. The bell sounded for fifth period, and Victor shot out of the room, avoiding the stares of the other kids, but had to return for his math book. He looked sheepishly at the teacher, who was erasing the board, then widened his eyes in terror at Teresa who stood in front of him. “I didn’t know you knew French,”she said. “That was good.” Mr. Bueller looked at Victor, and Victor looked back. Oh please, don’t say anything, Victor pleaded with his eyes. I’ll wash your car, mow your lawn, walk your dog--anything! I'll be your best student, and I’ll clean your erasers after school. Mr. Bueller shuffled through the papers on his desk, He smiled and hummed as he sat down to work. He remembered his college years when he dated a girlfriend in borrowed cars. She thought he was rich because each time he picked her up he had a different car. It was fun until he had spent all his money on her and had to write home to his parents because he was broke. Victor couldn’t stand to look at Teresa. He was sweaty with shame. “Yeah, well, I picked up a few things from movies and books and stuff like that.” They left the class together. Teresa asked him if he would help her with her French. "Sure, anytime,” Victor said. “I won’t be bothering you, will I?” "Oh no, I like being bothered.” “Bonjour,”Teresa said, leaving him outside her next class. She smiled and pushed wisps of hair from her face. "Yeah, right, bonjour,” Victor said. He turned and headed to his class. The rosebuds of shame on his face became bouquets of love. Teresa is a great girl, he thought. And Mr. Bueller is a good guy. He raced to metal shop. After metal shop there was biology, and after biology a long sprint to the public library, where he checked out three French textbooks. He was going to like seventh grade.

Mind Mapping Activity

DIRECTIONS: Create a Mind Map of Victor from the short story “Seventh Grade.” See example here.

HOW TO CREATE A CHARACTER MIND MAP

1. Read the story and identify the story elements. 2. On a clean sheet of paper, write the name or draw the character in the center of the page. 3. Draw branches that point away from the center. Each branch can symbolize a story element, character traits, etc. 4. From each branch, more story details branch off. Include meaningful keywords from story dialogue as well as the character’s words, thoughts and actions onto the branches. There is no limit to the number of branches in a map. 5. Use colors, icons and images whenever possible. These function as mental triggers which are important during discussion and writing sessions. SAMPLE OUTLINE

For more information about the mind mapping strategy, click here.

Mind Map Example

Text Dependent Questions “Seventh Grade” by Gary Soto.

1. Based on the first two paragraphs of the story, what two reasons does Victor have for wanting to take a French language class? Use evidence from the text to support your answer.

2. Discuss Michael’s plan and technique for winning girls. What is Victor’s response to Michael’s approach? What does this reveal about their relationship?

3. What evidence can you find to show that Victor has strong feelings for Teresa and cares about what she thinks? Find at least three examples throughout the story.

4. In trying to make a good impression, VIctor sometimes says and does things that he regrets. Write about two instances in which VIctor embarrasses himself while trying to impress others.

5. Read the following “great rosebushes of red bloomed on Victor’s cheeks” How does the author’s use of imagery add to the reader’s understanding of Victor’s feelings? What impact does it have on the tone of the story?

6. How did Mr. Bueller react to Victor’s response? Why did the author choose to have the teacher respond this way? What does this tell the reader about Mr. Bueller’s character?

7. Take a closer look at the author's style of writing. How does the author's use of direct and indirect characterization reveal the theme of the story? Support your answer with evidence from the text.

Text Dependent Questions: Constructed Response Examples

Example of a STRONG Constructed Response

Example of a WEAK Constructed Response

Writing a Narrative from an Another Character’s Point of View

Did I introduce the characters, the time and the place of the Exposition story with descriptions? Is the point of view of the story clear to the reader?

Did I stay in the proper story sequence following the original Sequence plot? Did I stay true to the relationship between characters as established by the author?

Did I use vivid details as seen through the character’s five Details senses? Did I include specific descriptions in my writing? Did I use strong verbs to show how the character responds or reacts in situations? Do my characters speak in a way that helps the reader understand their personality traits? Does the dialogue Dialogue clearly reveal the character’s point of view? Did I include inner dialogue to help the reader understand the character’s point of view? Does my story have a strong ending that helps the reader Ending understand the resolution? Does the resolution leave the reader with a thorough understanding of the character’s perspective?

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