Thursday, October 18, 2012

The Roots Project

There's this thing that many schools have called the IB, or the International Baccalaureate Diploma, which many students will associate with kind words like hell, purgatory, never ending pit of icy burning screaming killing blackness, but I like to associate with opportunity and learning (and, yeah, maybe, occasionally, the pit.)

Anyways, in 10th grade, the IB makes all of its students go through what is called the Personal Project, which is a stupid project that, however stupid it is, allows you to ANYTHING that you want to do and get graded on it. I really mean anything. The project is still stupid, but it can be great in many senses because it allows students to search for their individual taste and ambition and even get graded on it.

I chose to write a novel, which was a great decision (after all, that's sort of what I wanna do, you know?), however, I had too many options. One of the strongest competitors was to document my family's history.

I know it's my family and everything, meaning that I am without a doubt biased, but I have a heck of an interesting family history.

This is where the Roots Project kicks in.

I want to find out what happened. I've read some amazing autobiographies out there, and I don't care whether I have the talent or not, but I know that I have the material (I have learned that the key to a great autobiography is to know more than a lot about your family history. To prove my point, read A Story of Love and Darkness by Amos Oz.) I want to know what happened, and I want to be able to tell my kids what happened. I want them to know why they're there. I want to know why I'm here. There's so many things: my great grandma is still here (she's going to be a 100 and she went to college, in our very conservative country. A hero.), the pictures, the letters, the grandparents, the scrapbooks. They're all there, and I don't want them to stop being there.

Going to put this poster up somewhere in my room, so that this project doesn't get abandoned like so many do.

I made the map as a plan. I'm going to start with the interviews, because they're my priority. But I need to research first. What should I ask my great grandma? I don't know. I want to know. I'm exited.

My friggin' art skills.
I invite you too, to join the Roots Project. We all should know where we come from. That's what history classes are for. That's what photo albums are for. Why do I create scrapbooks and write everything down, if it's all going to get lost? I'm going to start the chain of favors by making sure that what I have in my reach doesn't get lost. Bon voyage.

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