WMS came together by our passion for animal welfare. We picked this Ignite topic to strengthen our understanding on how we could build, design, and collaborate on a woodworking project as well as experience using tools and other materials. We learned how to solve our very annoying problems by using other resources and how to efficiently collaborate with people with varying construction ideas. One thing we could have done differently would have been instead of waiting for the ordered wood to arrive, we should have ordered ahead of time and had our measurements planned before.
Theatre was always a big passion of mine but I didn’t know the skills or what it took to become a true actor. Each time I experienced drama, I’ve wondered how did these actors (or actresses) get to where they are now. I realized, every single actor goes through Shakespeare training. Learning Shakespeare is an art, to give you an understand of where all styles of drama originated. In this Ignite Week, I have learned the basic fundamentals of Shakespeare and his influences on us. As I explored this area, I began to understand the impact that Shakespeare has on theater. I learned how to communicate better with my cohorts, as well as collaborating and working together as one. If I could redo this week, to start new, I would defiantly have strived to be more confident when I act, for it has shown me how to speak up and express yourself.
Teflon Pan’s Realization – Mikayla
They say happy endings come to those who wait. Well, I’ve been waiting my whole life to have a purpose, to fill my label. But the truth is, we are all just garbage once we are purchased and brought home. Humans may use us until they feel as if their needs have been fulfilled, or we simply have been forgotten. Let’s just say, my happy ending didn’t last too long.
* * * * *
We all came from the building sites, factories, as the other pots and pans had said. Our parents mined from the ground, meeting in factories and creating us. I had just arrived with my siblings in a bright, noisy land, a sense of excitement flooding through me. Thumps and whirrs echoed off the grey sky above. We were given these tags of bright bold yellow letters smooshed on a blue hard fabric that lay against my skin. Here, we would find new owners, humans to take us in and treat us with care. Each day I saw my siblings being whisked off as well as the others that lived in Cooking & Tools; I never moved. Was I ever going to find a home? Did people even want me?
I thought this day was going to be the same routine, someone comes by, looks at all of us, and chooses someone else. In came the customer, a short, pudgy pale woman with short blonde hair. I stopped focusing on the world and let my thoughts empty out, ready for the letdown of not being chosen once again. Suddenly, my focus was ripped from my daydream and back to the world as I felt a strange smooth surface on my arm.
She picked me up and gently traced her finger along my skin, grasping my arm as she placed me inside of a metal transportation cage with round rubber devices spinning below. I was brought to her home that same day. My heart fluttering and thoughts racing with joy; how happy I felt to belong somewhere.
My eyes had opened for the first time, a bright light flashing before me. I saw things I had never seen from my dull and cold perch in Cooking & Tools. My skin tingled from the new, cool air as I was placed on a hard, multicolored surface that expanded to fill the outer edges of the rectangular room. A rush of fear brushed over me when I heard the soft hum of water as it gushed out of the rusted, silvery faucet. Suddenly, I was grabbed by the arm and thrown under the waterfall, goosebumps rising in my skin from the frosty feeling. I felt the world grow dim as I lost sense of what was going on around me.
I could sense the dreaded feeling of suspense when my owner roughly placed me on a jet black, smooth surface. An acrid burning smell still lingered and my stomach clenched with dread. It wasn’t safe here; the screams of terror I heard coming from the freezing box when my owner opened it. I wanted to go back to Cooking & Tools; I wanted to go home. Little did I know I was about to commit murder. I watched my human pour the painful chilly water onto my skin, a sharp, tingling sensation as I heard a click and my underside started to burn. The water turned light and bubbly, faint wisps of steam rising from my dark skin.
I didn’t know that I would become a murderer. It’s as if the world shredded my soul to bits; tore me up inside. Images flashed in my mind of the little pieces of food like spinach, beef, and broccoli that sizzled and died at my fingertips. Worst of all, I couldn’t even keep their remains with me. I glimpsed longingly at the monster that owned me as it placed itself down into a chair, it’s pale hands grasping a fork and knife, stabbing the sizzling food that littered its plate.
I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for you all to die. I whimpered to myself, my thoughts desperately trying to shut off my heart from any more heartache. I knew small specks of me were gone, physically and mentally. When I tortured the food to death, bits of me stuck to them, along with pieces of my soul.
Would my human be affected by me? Would this happen again? How long was I going to be stuck in this horrible cycle? These questions raced through my mind, pain striking me again as I continued to watch the monster consume everything I had killed. What was I going to do now? Sit on this burning seat forever? Killing others to serve this monster? My sight lingered back to the kitchen. The room smelled of cooked beef and onions, pure white walls surrounding me. There was a single, slightly dim blue light hanging from the ceiling, casting shadows throughout the room. The ice box sat in a large corner to my right beside the heat box that was propped up on a little black platform; strange, to keep them so close to each other. On my left, small oak doors with tiny handle-like knobs contained clear cups and white smudged plates on the inside, as shown when my owner had opened them. This didn’t seem right. If my pieces got heated into the food, there would be a problem. I was made to be more convenient, not cause harm.
“Teflon is made to keep things off, but it is dangerous to be consumed.” I told myself, recalling what the other pans had told me back in Cooking & Tools.
There was a shift of movement out of the corner of my eye as my owner got up out of its seat and carried its plate into the sink. It scraped off the remaining food into a large grey bin nearby and quickly dropped the plate in the sink. My heart thumped when it came over and grasped my slim arm roughly, lifting me off the counter and walking over to the ice box. I could already feel its dreadful, chilling temperature as we neared. The door opened with a loud whshoosh like the sound of opening a soda. Birr, was it cold. The air seemed to be thicker in here, the bright white, icy walls trapping in all the cold. A flickering white light blazed above me as I was placed on the highest shelf, still like a rock. I was the odd one out; everyone was covered in a thin, clear wrapping to keep them warm while I was out in the open, bare to the bone.
“You’re not supposed to be in here,” I heard a voice whisper from beside me. “There’s no chance of survival for the new ones.”
New ones? What did that voice mean? I couldn’t tell what had spoken to me but it wasn’t giving off a good feeling. How unwelcoming this voice sounded, to say that I didn’t belong there. As mean as my owner was, I was brought home just like the others that lived here. These thoughts still didn’t block out the fear as it climbed through me when I saw the outside world get shut off from me, the pale door slamming and trapping us inside.
Every day was the same. The constant tiresome routine of getting picked up, getting ready on the stove, and killing helpless foods. For some reason, my owner started to get slower, and it seemed as if she was being sleepier and coughed more. Someone had popped up one day and had begun to do my owner’s work for her. I didn’t see much of my owner anymore, and the house started to feel lonely. The quiet days of me being tortured in the hands of someone else didn’t comprehend to me. What had happened to her? Why wasn’t she not moving around as much? Today was even stranger. The missing patches of me became noticeable. My silver skin finally starting to show where the top layer of my dark skin was removed. This new beast that lived in my house had noticed and thrown me into a small oak cupboard below the burning platform. I didn’t like it down here at all. The smell burnt pots of pans engulfed me the moment I was once again trapped in a new place. Darkness surrounded me and I could hear the heavy footsteps of the human.
* * * * *
I’ve been sitting here for a while now. Just like garbage, I’ll be forgotten down here in the looming darkness, waiting for the day that I will be remembered. I know I’m not going to wear away like fruits or vegetables, and I know that I am somehow the cause of my owner’s disappearance from the house. But here I sat, thinking to myself, when suddenly, a blinding white light poured over me as the small oak door was pulled open.