Artists Statement-
Ms.Marvel inspired me to use my creative juices for more than just an essay. So I decided to do an Alternate universe fanfiction.
My audience is my classmates. You should know my piece is an alternate universe piece, Kamala was actually born in Jersey City, but I wanted to explore the struggles of Kamala if she wasn’t born in America. I wanted to highlight the problems a child may have emigrating to another country.
I want my audience to gain the insight of what kind of challenges even children can face when they are in a new country. I want them to learn how hard it is for someone to come from another country. Perhaps my audience can learn to be accommodating to a person emigrating from another country and welcome them, instead if bullying them or trying to push them out. (Ahem our president)
My audience can conclude from the story, how hard it is for Kamala to adjust to her new school, her bullies, how isolated she feels and how she longs to go back. Many immigrants from other countries feel that way, they feel unwelcome here and want to go back. We as a people need teach out children and ourselves be welcoming to others from other countries.
I was going for high emotional impact here, many people will be able to empathize with Kamala here, as most people are bullied.
Panels of Kamala’s interactions with Zoe and her little angst session before she sneaks out to the party inspired me.
I learned that I can be quite descriptive with my writing if I put the time and effort.
What unique perspective did you bring to your close reading of Ms. Marvel that someone else might not have? What is the value of this perspective?
I added the persepective of a American Pakistani girl herself. I see so much of myself in Kamala. I have gone through the emotions and even similar experiences she has. I know what it feels like to be ashamed in your own skin, and how that can affect yours sense of self. I know what it feels like to be an American when people don’t consider you one. I feel the clash of cultures every day, and how hard it was to deal with that as a child, like Kamala does in my fanfiction.
I learned that personal experiences and adding emotions into your writing can enrich it.
I did not learn the the proper format for a story/fanfiction.
I want to learn how to create an original story.
What, if any, role did class discussions and your peers play in your project?
Class discussions helped narrow down what route I wanted to take my writing on.
I would add more details and make in longer.
What will you take with you from this project into future projects?
I will take my newly learned skill in story writing.
The last thing you want to tell your audience before they dive into your project is try and empathize with Kamala. Also, if you don’t understand any words, google it 😉
Hurt.
Kamala sat down in a wooden tall mahogany chair and munched happily on her cake rusk dipped in chai. She can hear her father and Aamir devouring their aloo parathas while watching Geo News in the next room over. Her mother combed quickly through her thick, wavy and frizzy black hair.
Her mom asked “beta, are you ready for your first day of school in America?”
Kamala stuck her hands in the air and exclaimed “I’m excited! ”
“Good beta, I know my Kamala will win everyone’s hearts.”
Her mother then divides her hair into sections and tightly braids her hair. Her mother put her backpack on and, together they walk to her new school, Coles Elementary. At the entrance, Kamala’s mom crouches down to her level, adjusts her straps, plants a kiss on her forehead and gives Kamala a big hug
Kamala, giddy to enter the building, trying to free herself from her mother’s grip groans “Ammi, let go na. ”
Her mother sighs “ Acha beta, have good day, I will be right here when you come out.”
As soon as her mother utters those words, she skids off into the massive building. Once she enters the building, she is greeted, by a healthy woman wearing a tan skirt. The woman introduces herself, “Good morning dear, and your name must be Kamala. My name is Ms. Johnson; I will be your 3rd-grade teacher”.
Ms. Johnson leads Kamala into a large room filled with colorful pictures, projects, desks, and an Alphabet carpet! Sitting in the desks is her new class. There are many kids, but none of them actually look like her. Ms. Johnson introduces Kamala to her new class. “Class, this is your new classmate Kamala Khan, she just moved here, Kamala, how about you go sit next to Zoe.”
This girl, Zoe has long shiny blonde hair, Kamala had never seen a girl with a hair color like that! Kamala just knew she has to become best friends with this girl! Kamala then plops herself into her chair and takes out her brown covered notebooks and inserts them into the empty cavity of her desk. Zoe, looks at the books, scrunches her face and asks “ Eww, why are your notebooks brown? They are so ugly looking!”. Zoe and the other girls at her desks all starting saying “Ew’ to the notebooks her mother loving covered.
Kamala turns red in embarrassment. She has no idea as to why Zoe would even ask that, back at her school in Karachi, all the kids used to cover their notebooks in brown paper, it was a requirement. Kamala looks over at the other kid’s notebooks; they were all different colors, some even had shiny stickers. Kamala answers Zoe “I don’t know why my mom put them on.” Ms. Johnson calls everyone to the carpet for reading time and class starts.
At lunch time the teacher escorts the children to the cafeteria. Kamala is starving! She takes out her lunch box and gorges on the onion pakoras her mother packed for her. Pakodas are Kamala’s favorite! While Kamala is eating, Zoe and the girls from her desk group come over and stare at her lunchbox, Zoe says “Ew she is so weird, her lunch is so smelly.”
Another girl yells out ”It kind of looks like poop!!”. All the girls screech and run away. Kamala feels her cheeks burn, and tears well in her eyes. She is so embarrassed, why would they say her favorite food looks like poop? Kamala takes her pakoras and throws them in the garbage. Lunch ends, and she is then escorted back to class with the rest of the kids.
After school, Kamala gets picked up by her mother. On the way home she asks her mom “Ammi, can I get new notebooks? I don’t like the brown paper anymore”.
Her mother responds “ Why beta, they make your books look nice and neat.”
Kamala pleads, “Ammi please, I want the pretty notebooks the girls in my class have.”
Kamala’s mother, not wanting her daughter to feel left out says “Okay beta, if that’s what you want.”
School after that day is not so fun for Kamala. Zoe of her friends will not talk to her because they think she smells funny and eats poop. Back in Karachi, she loved to going to school and playing hopscotch with her friends. But now, school isn’t as fun.
On one warm day in late September Kamala’s class is allowed to go to recess, they are sharing the playground with some 4th graders. During recess, Zoe calls Kamala over to play with her and her friends. Kamala is confused but excited, maybe Zoe wanted to be friends with her now. Zoe tells Kamala and, “Okay, so everyone is going to go through the monkey bars, climb the ladder and go down the big slide, like an obstacle course, got it Kamala?”
Kamala excitedly replies “Yes!”
Zoe, responds “great! you go first”.
Kamala is a bit scared, she has never played on the monkey bars before, but she knows that if she wants to be Zoe’s friend, she has to do this. Kamala climbs the bright red metallic ladder and jumps, to grab onto the first monkey bar. As soon as she grabs onto the monkey bar, she cannot hold onto it anymore; she can’t move. Kamala shouts “Zoe, help me, I can’t hold on any longer!”
Zoe and her friends start laughing, seeing Kamala hanging in the air like that. Zoe says, “see; she’s such a freak, she can’t even play on the monkey bars!”.
Kamala can’t take it anymore, she can feel her hands feeling sweaty and her grip slipping. Kamala falls to the ground. The kids are laughing even harder. Kamala feels her face getting warms and tears well up, as they have so many times before. But this time, the tears fall, nonstop, this so embarrassing, she is crying in front of all her classmates. When Zoe sees Kamala cry, she and her friends run away to the other side of the playground, leaving Kamala all by herself. Kamala sits there crying, unable to move. Why do the kids treat her like this? All she wants to be is their friend. Why don’t they like her books, her smell or her food? All Kamala wants to be is their friend.
Kamala did not even realize when another child came up to her. A girl, who was the same color as her, but was a 4th grader, stood in front of her. She extends her right hand towards Kamala, Kamala grabs it and stands up. The mysterious girl asks Kamala “Hey, are you okay?”
Kamala wipes her nose with her shirt and replies “yeah, I’m okay” The mysterious girl introduces herself to Kamala, “ Hi, my name is Nakia, but you can call me Kiki.”
Kamala, replies to Kiki “Hi, I’m Kamala”.
Kiki asks Kamala, “Hey Kamala, do you want to go play with me?”
Kamala excitedly says “ yes that would be awesome!” Friends with a fourth grader, Zoe could never pick on her again!
Kiki then explains to Kamala “I saw those girls picking on you, you know you can tell your teacher, and she will help you.” Kamala never even thought of telling her teacher. After, recess, Kamala went straight up to Ms.Johnson and told her everything. The next day, Zoe apologizes to her, but Kamala still feels like Zoe does not like her.
Ever since that day, Kiki and Kamala play every day at recess.
Rough Draft: http://archive.cunyhumanitiesalliance.org/breathingthroughwriting/2017/06/05/rough-draft-for-assignment-3-2/
PreDraft: http://archive.cunyhumanitiesalliance.org/breathingthroughwriting/2017/05/24/pre-draft-for-assignment-3-4/
Expections: http://archive.cunyhumanitiesalliance.org/breathingthroughwriting/2017/05/20/expectations-for-assignment-3-2/
I peer reviewed Kat and spoke with Yamell.