Books and more books!
At the 84th annual Academy Awards held last weekend the clip below won the Oscar for Best Animated Short: described as taking place in a world where books are living creatures, it offers sentimental tale about the power of books and storytelling.
Enjoy this awesome story told with a fantastic animation!
About Me
- Teacher Alex
- Portugal
- I am from Coimbra, Portugal, and am currently teaching in a school in Soure, about 30 km away from Coimbra. I have been a teacher of English for over 20 years and have already taught different levels and age groups. After all this time I can say I love working with adult groups because there are no coursebooks and I can create my own resources. I am an avid reader, a blogger and very curious about free tools and their implementation in the classroom.
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
What book?
Following my last blogpost on... what book???
A segment from the acclaimed book and movie:
A segment from the acclaimed book and movie:
Saturday, February 18, 2012
Reading Mood
I've just finished reading The Help, by Kathryn Stockett and besides being beautifully written, it is as outstanding as unputdownable! I often found myself immersed in a "reading mood", if there is such thing, but the fact is that as soon as I started reading it, I had some trouble to stop.
The Help is the story of three amazing women - two African American maids working in white households in Jackson / Mississippi during the 1960s and a twenty-two year old graduate, daughter of a prominent white family who dreams of becoming a writer. In a time and place struggling with racial issues, The Help is a compelling, daring story of courage to cross boundaries. A must read, no doubt!
Inspired by this reading, here follows a poem by one of my favourite writers, guess who? Again Maya Angelou, an acclaimed American poet and a Civil Rights Activist.
Million Man March Poem
The night has been long,
The wound has been deep,
The pit has been dark,
And the walls have been steep.
Under a dead blue sky on a distant beach,
I was dragged by my braids just beyond your reach.
Your hands were tied, your mouth was bound,
You couldn't even call out my name.
You were helpless and so was I,
But unfortunately throughout history
You've worn a badge of shame.
I say, the night has been long,
The wound has been deep,
The pit has been dark
And the walls have been steep.
But today, voices of old spirit sound
Speak to us in words profound,
Across the years, across the centuries,
Across the oceans, and across the seas.
They say, draw near to one another,
Save your race.
You have been paid for in a distant place,
The old ones remind us that slavery's chains
Have paid for our freedom again and again.
The night has been long,
The pit has been deep,
The night has been dark,
And the walls have been steep.
The hells we have lived through and live through still,
Have sharpened our senses and toughened our will.
The night has been long.
This morning I look through your anguish
Right down to your soul.
I know that with each other we can make ourselves whole.
I look through the posture and past your disguise,
And see your love for family in your big brown eyes.
I say, clap hands and let's come together in this meeting ground,
I say, clap hands and let's deal with each other with love,
I say, clap hands and let us get from the low road of indifference,
Clap hands, let us come together and reveal our hearts,
Let us come together and revise our spirits,
Let us come together and cleanse our souls,
Clap hands, let's leave the preening
And stop impostering our own history.
Clap hands, call the spirits back from the ledge,
Clap hands, let us invite joy into our conversation,
Courtesy into our bedrooms,
Gentleness into our kitchen,
Care into our nursery.
The ancestors remind us, despite the history of pain
We are a going-on people who will rise again.
And still we rise.
The Help is the story of three amazing women - two African American maids working in white households in Jackson / Mississippi during the 1960s and a twenty-two year old graduate, daughter of a prominent white family who dreams of becoming a writer. In a time and place struggling with racial issues, The Help is a compelling, daring story of courage to cross boundaries. A must read, no doubt!
Inspired by this reading, here follows a poem by one of my favourite writers, guess who? Again Maya Angelou, an acclaimed American poet and a Civil Rights Activist.
 | |
| www.achievement.org |
The night has been long,
The wound has been deep,
The pit has been dark,
And the walls have been steep.
Under a dead blue sky on a distant beach,
I was dragged by my braids just beyond your reach.
Your hands were tied, your mouth was bound,
You couldn't even call out my name.
You were helpless and so was I,
But unfortunately throughout history
You've worn a badge of shame.
I say, the night has been long,
The wound has been deep,
The pit has been dark
And the walls have been steep.
But today, voices of old spirit sound
Speak to us in words profound,
Across the years, across the centuries,
Across the oceans, and across the seas.
They say, draw near to one another,
Save your race.
You have been paid for in a distant place,
The old ones remind us that slavery's chains
Have paid for our freedom again and again.
The night has been long,
The pit has been deep,
The night has been dark,
And the walls have been steep.
The hells we have lived through and live through still,
Have sharpened our senses and toughened our will.
The night has been long.
This morning I look through your anguish
Right down to your soul.
I know that with each other we can make ourselves whole.
I look through the posture and past your disguise,
And see your love for family in your big brown eyes.
I say, clap hands and let's come together in this meeting ground,
I say, clap hands and let's deal with each other with love,
I say, clap hands and let us get from the low road of indifference,
Clap hands, let us come together and reveal our hearts,
Let us come together and revise our spirits,
Let us come together and cleanse our souls,
Clap hands, let's leave the preening
And stop impostering our own history.
Clap hands, call the spirits back from the ledge,
Clap hands, let us invite joy into our conversation,
Courtesy into our bedrooms,
Gentleness into our kitchen,
Care into our nursery.
The ancestors remind us, despite the history of pain
We are a going-on people who will rise again.
And still we rise.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
