Narrative Practice

Revolutionary Narrative: Nicholas II

I feel my temple throb to the knocking on my door. “Tsar Nicholas, the riot outside is worsening! I beg you on behalf of all your civil servants to make a move. Peasants would rather obey the Soviets than you, my sir. News of your own uncle, Grand Duke Serge had been blown into pieces just a day ago!”

His words struck me like lightning and even now, the Soviets threaten me like a knife hovering over my throat. These ministers think I don’t know what’s going on outside, they think I’m being ignorant, they think I’m a magician who can solve any problem! Anxiety bubbles within me when I think about the mutiny on Potemkin. Who can I trust when my own armed forces betrayed me? Dread hits me when I think about the hundreds of generals who were murdered and landlords who were butchered by peasants. What can I do to let the majority be on my side?

Time passed with more knocking and yelling. Inside the chaotic and vulnerable voices, I suddenly feel a rush of hope and find comfort. I see victory and peace. I wondered if this was the right decision as it holds the risk of losing some of my power. However, the question lingered no longer than the rebels who marched at the front of the pack to my winter palace on Bloody Sunday. Sitting on my jewel adorned throne in the back of my office, I shut my eyes, took a deep breath, and thought, I’m Nicholas II, the Tsar of Russia, God’s chosen one. I can and will govern my people.

From then on, I brought my idea to reality, issuing the October Manifesto. I set up an elected parliament called Duma to help govern Russia. I also allowed fundamental rights for Russian people such as rights to form political parties and free of speech. However, political parties such as the Soviets must be immediately terminated. I’ve ordered armies to destroy Soviets, police to arrest members of the St. Petersburg Soviet, and everything I could do to put an end to this revolution.

Steadily and successfully, the revolution ended in March 1906. In the Duma, I’ve announced the Fundamental Laws, emphasizing in my first line, “To the Emperor of all the Russias belongs supreme autocratic power”. Needn’t to say, I’ve always believed in myself because I’m Nicholas II, the Tsar of Russia, the God’s chosen one. I can and will govern my people.



Socratic Seminar Reflection #2

In humanities class today, my group and another group stayed in Ms. Patty’s room to have our Socratic Seminar. What I did well is I prepared plenty of information and brought them to the discussion. The information was selected from various sources and I also cited them in my notes. When I talk, I also spoke clearly to make sure everyone could build onto my thoughts when sharing theirs’. So, I took turns talking and many times, invited other people to join the conversation.


Even though my peer gave me all yeses for my actions, I still think I can make more connections to my personal experience or the society. Also, I think I should ask more open-ended questions to further the conversations. Other than these points I think I did a pretty good job in a Socratic Seminar.

Post #6: Our Archaeology Essential Questions

Why do archaeologists study the past?

Archaeologists and historians investigate and study the past, here are the reasons why. The people living from the past have left many writings, artifacts, and structures behind. In each generation there are historians who gathers and evaluates information of the past.

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Post#3 Writer’s Circle Story/Device Story

I’m still not completely finished with my story. Also, I was suppose to be writing a realistic fiction, but after I started my device story I just wanted to continue on it, so this is my device story. Hope you like it!


May L

I was in a hurry, but to where? I was scampering through the school’s corridors with my heart pounding in my chest. I needed to runaway, far away from the monster of my grade, Chaney.

The moment when she struck me hard on the forehead and blood gradually trickling down still lies deep in my mind. It was about two years ago. Recalling back to that bloody scene, chills climbed up my spine. The school had expelled her after that incident, but now, she’s back.

The echoes of her heavy footsteps are getting closer and closer toward me. I can no longer hear any conversations from students in the cafeteria, or their laughter during recess. No one is here making any jubilant sounds. The only noise that is being heard right now, is the fearful pant, from me.

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