This collection of student work is from
Frank Keim's classes. He has wanted to share these works for others
to use as an example of Culturally-based curriculum and documentation. These
documents have been OCR-scanned. These are available
for educational use only.
A World of
Hate
"Jimmy can I borrow a hundred
dollars?" I asked my friend whom I had known since grade school.
"I'll pay you back, I promise."
"What is it for, another one of your
drug binges?" he asked, giving me a mean look and turning away to
face the window. The silence between us was eerie. The room was dark
and gloomy so I sat on the window seat to soak up some sunlight.
Whatever I was going to say, he knew I was going to lie.
"NO! Actually it's not. I need to get
a new coat. You know it's getting cold outside and all I have is this
rag. Please!"
"This is the last time I'm going to
lend you money! Next time save your pay check instead of blowing it
all on crack." He was really mad by now as he dug in his wallet and
threw a crispy hundred dollar bill at me.
My name is Char Kristi Alan, and my
friend, Jimmy, says I have a drug problem.
I am 25 years old and have been on
crack since I was 22 and a half. I told Jimmy I was depressed and
needed something to pull me out of the hole. I kept believing I could
quit anytime.
The alley was dark and I felt the
cold rain soaking through my clothes and stinging my face as I walked
in the blackness. Only little lights above the alley doors shined. I
was trying to find the door with the number 187-666 on it. This man I
was going to see was a drug dealer. Even though I'd been there a few
times before I could feel my stomach twisting and turning as the door
I was looking for came into sight.
"Hey it's the trash from the
sidewalk," I recognized Antonio's voice as I shut the door and
stepped in out of the rain. "Come, jump in the fire if you're cold.
Nobody will even notice you're gone."
"Shut up, Antonio, you garbage eating
skunk. Where's Marko? I need him right away. My trip is calling me," I said,
stepping into the living room still dripping from the rain outside and playfully
slapping Antonio on the head.
"Yeah, your trip to the dumpster
outside. You've got to quit doing this stuff so much, Char. It'll put
you in the hospital someday."
"Hey Marko! I'm down for a 20! Come
on and give me some of that funky stuff. I don't feel normal without
it," I said to Marko, ignoring Antonio's words of advice.
"Nobody cares about her," Marko said
with a wide smile, only happy that I was a regular
customer.
After I gave Marko a twenty dollar
bill and did my "stuff" in the back room, I started out into the
rainy night again. Only this time everything looked a lot darker than
it did fifteen minutes ago. Even the lights above the doors seemed to
be gray. All of a sudden the alleyway seemed to be swerving and I
felt like I was walking up and down small hills. Geez,
Christmas in September? I asked myself, as what looked like a
Christmas tree with decoration lights came dancing down the street.
As it got closer I unconsciously started to sing the song, "Oh
Christmas Tree" and spun around and danced in the rain. The next
thing I knew I was being handcuffed and thrown into the backseat of a
car.
"For the last time, give me your
name! Give me your goddamned name!" an officer was yelling in my face
and I was too mellowed out to think straight. I felt a cold hand
slapping me across my face, and my small body was about to fly over
to the floor when another man grabbed me and sat me upright in the
chair.
"Char!" I hollered in fright, "Char
Kristi Alan!" I was scared out of my mind. I felt as if I had a gun
to my head and a second away from being shot and left there to
suffer. The room was spinning in small circles that grew larger and
larger. Then it went black, everything, my whole world pitch
black!
"I hate you Char. I hate you forever!
I told you so many times to stop. You never listened, now I hate
you," Jimmy's words seemed slow and his quiet sobs sounded like drums
beating in my ears. That's when it hit me, like an anvil falling from
a twenty story building, right on my heart. I had to quit. For
Jimmy's sake and mine. I realized that he was the only one who cared
about what happened to me, the only one in this world of hate. The
only person who pushed me, urged and encouraged me to quit doing
drugs.
That was the last time I did crack,
two weeks ago. Two short weeks that seem like yesterday. Right now
I'm in a rehab writing this report to remember how badly I was
addicted then. When I think of it now, it is so disgusting and I
can't believe that I let myself do something like that. But I'm glad
it's over, all of it. I can almost live normally now, although I know
nothing will ever be the same again. Jimmy and Gina Millie got
engaged. I'm so happy for them. They are my best friends in the world
and have been so kind to me ever since I stopped doing crack. They're
having their engagement party tonight, and I'm invited. Gina said
it's going to be a killer. I think I'll check it out.
Friday, September 27, 1996 Char Kristi
Alan
Epilogue
Gina Millie's party was a killer.
Char Kristi Alan was reported dead on September 28, 1996 at 10 a.m.
from a drug overdose. Nobody knows why she did it. Her progress had
been so good. The workers at the rehab have never experienced
anything like this. We will just have to remember her for her
motivation and determination to quit. She said she was going to quit
for Jimmy, the only person who cared about her and loved her for what
she was. I wish she had decided to quit for herself. Maybe if she'd
done that, she would still be alive.
By Charlotte Alstrom
My name is
Kerry and I have
AIDS
(Now I'm dead!)
Going,
Going Gone!
Man and the
Environment
Christmastime Tales
Stories real and imaginary about Christmas, Slavik, and the New Year
Winter, 1996 |
Christmastime Tales II
Stories about Christmas, Slavik, and the New Year
Winter, 1998 |
Christmastime Tales III
Stories about Christmas, Slavik, and the New Year
Winter, 2000 |
| Summer Time Tails 1992 |
Summertime Tails II 1993 |
Summertime Tails III |
| Summertime Tails IV Fall, 1995 |
Summertime Tails V Fall, 1996 |
Summertime Tails VI Fall, 1997 |
| Summertime Tails VII Fall, 1999 |
Signs of the Times November 1996 |
Creative Stories From Creative Imaginations |
| Mustang Mind Manglers - Stories of the Far Out,
the Frightening and the Fantastic 1993 |
Yupik Gourmet - A Book of
Recipes |
|
| M&M Monthly |
|
|
| Happy Moose Hunting! September Edition 1997 |
Happy Easter! March/April 1998 |
Merry Christmas December Edition 1997 |
| Happy Valentine’s
Day! February Edition
1998 |
Happy Easter! March/April Edition 2000 |
Happy Thanksgiving Nov. Edition, 1997 |
| Happy Halloween October 1997 Edition |
Edible and Useful Plants of Scammon
Bay |
Edible Plants of Hooper Bay 1981 |
| The Flowers of Scammon Bay Alaska |
Poems of Hooper Bay |
Scammon Bay (Upward Bound Students) |
| Family Trees and the Buzzy Lord |
It takes a Village - A guide for parents May 1997 |
People in Our Community |
| Buildings and Personalities of
Marshall |
Marshall Village PROFILE |
Qigeckalleq Pellullermeng ‘A
Glimpse of the Past’ |
| Raven’s
Stories Spring 1995 |
Bird Stories from Scammon Bay |
The Sea Around Us |
| Ellamyua - The Great Weather - Stories about the
Weather Spring 1996 |
Moose Fire - Stories and Poems about Moose November,
1998 |
Bears Bees and Bald Eagles Winter 1992-1993 |
| Fish Fire and Water - Stories about fish, global warming
and the future November, 1997 |
Wolf Fire - Stories and Poems about Wolves |
Bear Fire - Stories and Poems about Bears Spring,
1992 |
Marshall
Cultural Atlas