There was commotion everywhere. People were getting dressed or looking for things. The atmosphere was unreal, unbelievable. I know they all felt the same as I. A rope was tightening around everyone's neck-the end has come. It is like seeing the angel of death manifest in the form of a policeman. No one among us spoke. Except for the rustle of everyone getting ready to go, it was quiet. We were living a nightmare. It could not be real, but it was and yet I refused to believe it. Somehow, at least in me, there was a spark of hope.
Through stories of youth using their many voices in and out of school to explore and express their ideas about the world, this book brings to the forefront the reality of lived literacy experiences of adolescents in today’s culture in which literacy practices reflect important cultural messages about the interplay of local and global civic…
I pretended to look for things, all the while my mind raced through the possibilities, the ideas of escape, running away, or somehow just disappearing. I was desperate because my immediate chances were poor. I couldn't see myself leaving this house with the rest of the group. One thought ran over and over in my mind, I must get out of this mess.
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