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Write vs. Might:Merced |
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(WARN), has
been using innovative techniques
to focus his community’s opposition
to a planned Wal-Mart distribution
center. At a recent barbecue in Merced’s Sandcastle
neighborhood, WARN honored Golden Valley High School student
Josh Osborne with first prize in its student writing contest. Competitiors were asked to write a poem,
short story or essay about the the distribution center’s potential impact on
the community. Here are
five of the winning entries: When Wal-Mart Came
Josh
Osborne, 11th grade When Wal-Mart came,
There was no one to blame, Except for the thousands of trucks. When the dust cleared, And the children
breathed, With those newly infected lungs. The jobs weren't great,But they put food
on the plate, With all the Wal-Mart
items imaginable. The schools nearby, With their students
awry, And the teachers mad with the smile. Oh, that lovely little smile, Watching
all the while, Thinking what to destroy next. A nice little town, Half price on all the gowns, Clean up on aisle 99. |
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Wishing and taking action are two different things Rachel
Seymour, 11th grade “Man it
stinks here!” Barry yelled, plugging his nose with his two fingers. “Yeah, it
does...” Jake paused. “It started
smelling here ever since they moved that Wal-Mart thing next to our school.” “I don’t want
to go here anymore... I mean with the smell, the roaring of the trucks, not
to mention the beeping noise that goes off every second,” Barry
complained. Why did
they have to build this place so close to our school, anyway?” “I’m not
sure, but Mrs. Apple tells me it’s because there weren’t enough jobs or
something." “Weren't enough jobs?!” Barry yelled. “My dad applied for a job there, and he didn't even get one! They lied when they said they were going to give jobs to |
Merced
residents; my dad said the only people who
got the jobs were already working for
Wal-Mart.” “Well, at
least you don't have to live by it. My
family moved into a new house down the
street from the thing, and we hear that
beeping noise day in and out. There’s
also the lights that shine in my room every
few hours. My parents are trying to
sell the house, but no one will buy a house
next to the distribution center,”
Jake said sadly. “Man I
thought I had it bad,” Barry said,
patting Jake on the back for sympathy. They both
walked through the doors of Pioneer
Elementary School, upset and coughing
from the horrible air quality made by the
900 trucks the day before. The only
thing they could do now was wish they
could have stopped the center from being
constructed before it ruined their environment. This is my home
By Chou
Xiong, 11th grade This is my
home I live
right here What I don’t need (continued) |
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Official publication of UFCW 8-Golden State Jacques Loveall, President |
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