Arbeiten

Hier werde ich verschiedene meiner schulischen Arbeiten ausstellen. Copyright wie immer bei mir.

Musik, Klasse 11
Aufgabe: Schreibe einen kurzen Text zu den Bildern.

© Caspar David Friedrich: Der Mittag (1821)

Sekundenblick
Eine Weggabelung. Die Straße wird zum Feldweg. Flüchtig, flüchtig.
Das Auto fährt vorbei. Der Eindruck einer Landschaft. Friedlich. Trügerisch?
Grün und braun, der Himmel grau, gelb. Mutter Naturs Farben. Welche Mutter?
Bäume, eine Gruppe, eng zusammen. Schutz. Wogegen? Für einander.
Menschen. Zwei, nicht weit entfernt. Und doch. Alleine. Merkwürdig verloren.
Vorbei. Der Eindruck verschwimmt. Ein Wirbel. Grün und braun und grau und gelb.
Zurücklehnen im Sitz. Friedlich schien es. Ruhig auch. Tröstlich sogar. Beinahe.

© Claude Monet: Impression, soleil levant (1872)

Blut durch die Nacht
Sonne.
Rote Sonne.
Rot wie Blut.
Blut über dem Hafen.
Über dem Hafen in grau.
Graues Wasser.
Im Wasser ein Boot.
Fahrend im Boot, die Menschen.
Wenige Menschen, fischend vielleicht.
Fischend im Schatten der Schiffe.
Im Schatten der Nacht.
Dunkle Nacht.
Das Dunkel vertrieben.
Vertrieben vom Blut.
Blut wie Rot.
Rote Sonne.
Sonne.

Deutsch, Klasse 11
Aufgabe: Beschreibe eine Momentaufnahme einer Partysituation.

Spaß
Jemand raucht. Feine Schlieren wabbern vorbei, verschwinden im Gemisch aus Zigarettenrauch, der Hitze zu vieler Körper und etwas Sauerstoff. Man nennt es Luft.
Alles ist etwas verschwommen. Das gedämpfte Licht, der Rauch, die Menschen, es tut sein Übriges.
Der Geruch ist an der Grenze des Ekelerregenden. Alkohol, Zigaretten und Schweiß. Dazwischen ein Hauch von zu süßlichem Parfüm. Dann die Menschen, eine Masse, wie es scheint. Übelkeit.
Die Schuhe drücken unangenehm. Eine unweigerliche Blase ist spürbar. Das Oberteil klebt an der Haut, die Haare vor Schweiß im Nacken.
Jemand rempelt, stolpern, ein Nagel bricht ab. Ein Ohrring hat sich gelöst, unbemerkt, ist verloren. Schade. Er ist schön.
Die Musik ist laut, wird nicht wahrgenommen. Ein Lied jagt das andere. Sie klingen gleich. Dröhnen.
Zeit verfliegt, Stunden. Die Uhr tickt. Zeit zu gehen. Nur nicht die Bahn verpassen. Die Freundin kommt, hakt sich ein, lacht, ihr Make-up ist verwischt. „Hat Spaß gemacht, oder?“

Englisch, Klasse 10
Aufgabe: Wie könnte das Zusammentreffen von Jake und Carla aussehen? (basierend auf dem Buch 'A time to kill' (dt. 'Die Jury') von John Grisham)

When it's all said and done...

Jake’s POV

I ring the bell. Nothing happens. I run my fingers trough my hair, sigh, wait. One Minute, then two. And just as I begin to debate whether to give up or not, I hear footsteps. Moments later the door opens.

“Good morning”, Greg Walker greets me with a smile, but lets it drop immediately after realising who he is talking to. His son-in-law. Me. “She isn’t here”, he continues, not giving me a chance to say anything. He is angry. Of course he is. I can’t say I blame him. I’d be angry, too, I guess. I mean, when I married his daughter, I promised him to take care of her, to love her, to never let anything hurt her. And I haven’t been true to my word. Not at all.

“I need to talk to her”, I know it sounds pathetic. It is pathetic, for heaven’s sake! But it’s true as well. “She doesn’t want to see you”, he responds and for a moment I think he’s going to shut the door in my face. He doesn’t.

Instead he turns around and calls out: “Anne! He is here.” Seconds later my mother-in-law emerges from inside the house.

“Jake!”, she smiles, but even I can tell she doesn’t mean it, “I didn’t expect you for a few days. The judgement was pronounced only three days ago, wasn’t it? You must’ve hurried.” She laughs. A little to high, a little to happy, a little to loud. False.

“I need to talk to Carla”, I repeat, adding “please” just to sound even more pathetic. “I already told him, that she doesn’t want to see him”, Greg throws in, before Anne can say anything about Carla’s whereabouts.

“They need to talk things over eventually”, she states, ignoring him more or less, “she’s at her sister’s.” “Rebecca?”, I ask, just to be sure. Anne nods: “You know where she lives?” “I’ll find it. Thank you”, I try and fail to smile.

“Good Luck, Jake”, Anne throws me a strange look. And I honestly can’t say if it’s encouraging or... pitiful.

 

Carla’s POV

“Charlie?” That stupid nickname again. Becky always insists on calling me ‘Charlie’, even though she knows no-one has called me that since I’ve been sixteen. I hate it, but then again, I hate ‘Carla’ even more.
”Mom phoned”, she comes in without bothering to knock first. Sisters! “He is in town.” I look up, sister- and nickname-troubles immediately forgotten – or at least postponed till later. “He’s on his way here”, she continues, plopping my bed. Well, not my bed. Actually it is hers, since it stands in her guest-room, but I’ve been sleeping in it for the past few weeks. Ever since I couldn’t bear mum’s good advises or dad’s grumping around any longer.

And it’s much more fun for Laurie here as well. She loves playing with her cousins so much she almost forgets to miss her father. Right now they’re in the garden, playing some kind of game, that includes much howling and running around.

“You want me to send him away?”, Becky offers, waving his hands in front of my face to get my attention. I brush them away. “No”, I sigh, “I guess, mum’s right for once. We have to talk about this eventually.”

“And are you going to tell him about...?”, her gaze travels lower, stopping at my stomach. My hands come to rest there protectively. Must be some kind of motherly reflex, I guess.
”No. Now is not the right time”, I answer, looking away. Becky stands up, realising that I want to be alone for a few moments. “If your are sure...”, I hear the doubt in her voice, but chose to ignore it. Because, as understanding as she might be, Becky knows nothing.

She lives a picture-perfect life. With a two-story-house, a big garden and two expensive cars, not to mention an ambitious husband, two beautiful children and a dog called Elsa. She lives the life I had before Carl Lee Hailey decided to run amok.
And I can’t say I don’t hate him for this.

 

Jake’s POV

It’s relatively easy to find Rebecca’s house. She doesn’t live very far from her parents. I ring the bell and only seconds later Thomas, her husband, opens the door. “She’s in the living-room”, he says without looking at me, letting me in.

Rebecca leans in the kitchen-doorway, watching me closely while I pass, following Thomas’ instructions to the living-room. And to call her look icy would be a clear understatement.

I enter the living-room and close the door behind me. Carla stands across from me, facing the window and watching the playing children outside or at least pretending to do so. Laurie is among them. My little Laurie...

“I heard you won”, Carla says, her voice emotionless, “congratulations.” “Thanks.” I know it sounds stupid. But... is there anything better to say?

“How’s Tonya?”, she still doesn’t turn around. “She’s fine, I guess”, actually I don’t have the slightest idea. But ‘fine’ seems to be the best answer I could give her. “And Gwen? How did she handle it?”, I may be mistaken, but it seems to me that Carla’s voice seems softer somehow. “It wasn’t easy for her, but she is, of course, overjoyed that Carl Lee was freed”, I respond, trying and failing not to sound too proud.
”Of course”, Carla repeats and there is something in her voice I can’t grasp. Something important.

She stops talking and I can’t help but notice, that she didn’t ask how Carl Lee himself is doing. I wonder if it means something.

“What do you want, Jake?”, her voice is quiet, but determined. And I have to suppress a sigh. Couldn’t we stick to small-talk just a bit longer?

“To apologise.” Of course I notice that I sound tired and pathetic. Again. But to be honest I don’t really care. Pride is not something I cherish any longer.
”Not accepted. Anything else?” This is going to be harder than I imagined...

 

Carla’s POV

Do I pity him? Of course. I didn’t marry him for nothing after all. But I lost faith in him. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to trust him again. And I’m too tired to try...

“Please honey...” Ah, flattering. I wondered when he’d try it. He always does in the end. It just surprises me how early it comes today. And, after six years of marriage, one would think he knows, that I don’t fall for flattering. Never have, never will. It only gets me angry. And why should today be an exception?

“No, Jake, no. You can’t come here and think you can fix things by saying sorry. It doesn’t work like this. I asked you to drop the case, for your family’s sake and for you own. You refused. You did what you wanted to do, not caring about the consequences, and look where it got you! You won the case, Jake, but you lost everything else.

Don’t believe me? Well, let’s see: You owe the bank thousands for a house and a car, that doesn’t even exist anymore, not to mention all the other bills you have to and can’t pay. You neglected all of your clients and spent weeks, months even, on a trial that yielded you 900 dollars! 900, Jake! You lost your secretary, who lost her husband, just because of your decision. He died because of your case, because of you taking it. And, as if this isn’t enough, you got yourself and your family in danger. You risked Laurie’s well-being for a trial, Jake, and that’s something I can never forgive.”

I know it was harsh. And I can imagine how hard this is for him. It isn’t easy for me either. And the hardest part is yet to come...

“Please, Carla, if you’d just try and...”, I don’t let him finish. I don’t want to hear any of it.

“I’d try, if I could see a chance for us, Jake, but I don’t. We’re doomed to fail.” God, why does this have to be so hard? I’m close, so close to give in to his pleas, just to make the pain stop. But I cried to long over him. It has to be done in the end. “Jake, I filed for divorce.”

 

Jake’s POV

She turns around and suddenly I’d rather she didn’t. I don’t want to look at her right now. Don’t want to see the tears she tries to blink away or the sad yet determined look on her face, telling me that this is final. I don’t want to believe it. Don’t want to believe, that she has signed for divorce or that there really is no chance for us. But part of me does. Part of me has known it all along, yet it doesn’t take the pain away. If anything, it only make it worse.

But still, I can’t give up that easily! “But this case brought me publicity. It will be very easy to get clients from now on”, I argue, “and when the insurance pays, then the house and the car...” “If, Jake, if the insurance pays”, Carla interrupts me, “and as for your future clients: They won’t pay you because they saw you on TV. You still have to work for getting paid, meaning the money you make is limited, just as the amount of work, you are able to do, is. It never is as easy as you’d like it to be.” And just like that I know I’ve lost.

“What about Laurie?”, I hear myself ask, not knowing where this thought came from. “I’d like to keep her out of this”, Carla responds very matter-of-factly, “but it‘d be better for her to stay with me and you know that, Jake. If you nevertheless decide to take legal actions about this, then so it be.”

For a moment I consider doing just that, hiring Harry Rex as a lawyer, but then I realise that Carla’s right. Laurie has always been much closer to her. And I don’t have the time to care for a child either. “I want to see her. On a regular basis”, I demand. Carla nods: “Of course.” It seems, as if it was obvious to her from the beginning.

“I’d like to evade a litigation”, I state. “So do I”, Carla says. I nod. She nods, too. And suddenly it is more uncomfortable than ever. Because we failed. Because we have nothing to say to each other anymore. Because, when it’s all said and done, Carla is right: I won the case, but I lost everything else.

 

Carla’s POV

He leaves. I stay behind. And I can’t even find the strength to cry. Becky comes in, throws her arms around me and whispers soothing words. But somehow I don’t need them. It’s not as bad as I thought it would be. Sure, I’m sad, more than just ‘sad’ actually, but I’m not devastated. And when Becky asks, if I’m all right and I say, that I’ll cope, I mean, what I say.

But it has an unpleasant taste to it. Because there are too many ‘what-ifs’, too many ‘might-have-beens’. Too many unlived dreams.

And then I look at myself and I almost have to laugh. Because it’s pathetic. Because a few months ago I was a loving housewife and mother with a nice house, a big garden, a shiny car and a well-behaved dog. Right now I’m an unemployed single mother without means and pregnant with a child, whose father I’m about to divorce. It’s so depressing, it’s almost funny again.

But underneath all the gallows humour the nagging thought remains. The nagging thought of what happened to me – us – and the question of how we could have prevented this. And in the end it all comes down to one thing, or rather: person. Carl Lee Hailey.

He was the one who killed those men, who committed double murder and for all that he still is the one who came off best. He not only escaped a rightful sentence, but gets to live a happy life with his family. And I doubt, if anyone will care or even notice, that by doing so he destroyed mine. Both life and family.

I told Jake, that he won the case and lost everything else. Which is only half of the truth. Because, when it's all said and done, I lost just as much as he did. If not more.

Englisch, Klasse 10
Aufgabe: Schreibe auf, was dir zu dem Bild einfällt.

(Das ist nicht das Original-Bild zu dem ich den Text geschrieben habe, aber sehr ähnlich. Auf dem Original befanden sich allerdings noch Wassertropfen.)

A red rose
A rose. Red. They say red roses are the flowers of love. Of love fulfilled. Pink roses stand for unrequited love and white roses for love, that once was.
Well, if they say so...
I mean, honestly, what has a rose to do with love? Yeah, it IS beautiful. A rose, that is. Love on the other hand... well, we’ll agree to disagree on that one.
Maybe it’s because roses wither away after a while. Love does as well. Love always does. Always fades away. Maybe that’s why roses stand for love. Yeah, it has to be.
And the colour? I mean, red. Like blood. Blood and love? Is it just me or is this just a bit strange?
And these water-drops – like tears. Don’t they say, love is beautiful? Well, yes, they do. But why does the word “heartbreak” even exists then?
Well, I’m confused now. Although it’s just a picture. Of a rose. A red rose. And somehow it got me thinking about love. Strange. Somehow. Right?

Deutsch, Klasse 11 (für meine Schwester)
Aufgabe: Schreibe das folgende Gedicht um.

Über die Liebe
Wir brauchten wenig,
wenn wir Liebe hätten.

Nicht die Liebe,
die wir mit Ringen und
roten Rosen
auszudrücken meinen.

Nein,
Liebe, die sich
überträgt,
ohne Worte,

wie ein Lächeln im Wind.

© Kristiane Allert-Wybranietz

 

Liebe

Würden wir lieben,
dann hätten wir so viel,
dass wir nichts anderes bräuchten.

 

Wir hätten keine Ringe
oder roten Rosen,
aber dafür Liebe.

 

Liebe, die man nicht hört,
die keine Worte braucht,
oder große Taten.

 

Liebe, wie ein Lächeln…
Im Wind, vielleicht…

Ja, wie ein Lächeln im Wind.

Religion, Klasse 9
Aufgabe: Schreibe einen inneren Monolog, basierend auf dem Bild.

© Frida Kahlo: Die gebrochene Säule (1944)

Schmerzen
Ich atme, aber es schmerzt.
Ich fühle, aber es schmerzt.

Mein ganzes Leben schon bin ich so... zumindest kommt es mir so vor. Wie lange ist es her, dass ich umher laufen konnte? Dass ich mich bewegen konnte, ohne das es weh tut?

Ich glaube, aber es schmerzt.
Ich kämpfe, aber es schmerzt.

Dieses Stahlkorsett engt mich ein. Ich habe das Gefühl, dass es mir die Luft abschnürt, mich erstickt. Aber, wenn ich es ablege, dann zerbreche ich. Ich werde zerbrechen, wie eine Porzellanfigur. Dieses Korsett hält mich zusammen und es hält mich am Leben. Aber ich hasse es.

Ich weine, aber es schmerzt.
Ich hoffe, aber es schmerzt.

Wie ist es, gesund zu sein? Sag es mir. Ich habe es vergessen. Ich habe vergessen, wie es ist, Freude am Leben zu haben. Wahre Freude, meine ich. Ich frage mich nur noch eins: Wozu das alles? Weshalb?

Ich lebe, aber es schmerzt.
Es schmerzt.

Religion, Klasse 8
Aufgabe: Erstelle einen Psychotest (für Mädchen).

Fragen:
1. Ein neues Mädchen kommt in eure Klasse. Euer erster Eindruck: UNCOOL! Was tust du?
a) Du gehst auf sie zu und hilfst ihr, in der Klasse Fuß zu fassen. Ist doch egal, was die anderen reden.
b) Du lachst sie aus und ziehst total über sie her.
c) Du hast Mitleid mit ihr und beobachtest sie aus der Ferne.
d) Du findest sie eigentlich okay, aber wenn die anderen hetzen, dann hetzt du mit.

2. Was ist dein bevorzugter Klamottenstil? Folgst du Trends?
a) Du folgst keinen Trends, du setzte sie! Du hast immer das coolste an und alle folgen dir.
b) Du ziehst an, was „in“ ist und was die anderen auch tragen.
c) Du trägst, was DIR gefällt. Wenn die anderen hetzen - wen stört's?
d) Du trägst am liebsten Jeans und T-shirt. Hauptsache, es fällt nicht auf.

 

3. Alle Mädchen in deiner Klasse schwärmen für Justin Timberlake. Du findest ihn voll ätzend. Was machst du?
a) Du denkst dir: „Muss ja keiner wissen, dass ich ihn hasse.“
b) Du hörst was dir gefällt. Was geht dich die Meinung anderer an?
c) Du hörst seine Musik einfach. Wenn die anderen ihn toll finden, kann er ja nicht soo schlecht sein...
d) Du schwärmst nicht für ihn, du LIEBST ihn!!!

 

4. Alle dürfen am Samstag auf die Party von Jens, DAS Ereignis schlechthin. Du darfst nicht hin. Was tust du?
a) Du bequatschst deine Mutter so lange, bis sie es erlaubt und wenn gar nichts mehr geht, dann lügst du eben. Du MUSST dahin, komme was wolle!
b) Du schlägst deiner Mutter einen Kompromiss vor. Sie wird es schon noch erlauben und wenn nicht, dann gehst du eben mal nicht weg.
c) Du gehst einfach hin. Was deine Mutter sagt, ist dir doch egal.
d)Du wirst dich hüten, da aufzukreuzen. Was interessiert dich Jens dumme Party?

Punkte:

1. Frage: a) 4 Punkte, b) 3 Punkte, c) 1 Punkt, d) 2 Punkte

2. Frage: a) 3 Punkte, b) 2 Punkte, c) 4 Punkt, d) 1 Punkte
3. Frage: a) 1 Punkte, b) 4 Punkte, c) 2 Punkt, d) 3 Punkte

4. Frage: a) 2 Punkte, b) 1 Punkte, c) 3 Punkt, d) 4 Punkte

 

Auswertung:

 4-6 Punkte:
Du hälst dich immer im Hintergrund und lässt die anderen machen. Hauptsache du fällst nicht auf. Also, mach was aus dir und sei was selbstbewusster, sonst gehörst du bald nur noch zum Inventar.

 

7-9 Punkte:

Kann es sein, dass dich bloß interessiert, was die anderen von dir denken? Du bist ein eigenständiger Mensch und das musst du auch zeigen! Sei mal du selbst und tu was DU willst.

 

10-12 Punkte:

Für dich gehen Aussehen und Coolness über alles, sprich: Du bist total oberflächlich. Versuche mal ein bisschen mehr wert auf die inneren Werte zu legen und sei nicht so arrogant. Versteh es endlich: Du bist NICHT der Mittelpunkt der Welt.

 

13-16 Punkte:
Du ziehst dein Ding durch, egal was die anderen dazu sagen. Du spielst die toughe, unabhängige, aber übertreibe es nicht. Wer zu sehr gegen den Strom schwimmt macht sich das Leben nur noch schwerer.

 

(Anm.: Bitte nicht soo ernst nehmen. Ist halt ein Psychotest. Könnt mir ja mal schreiben, was ihr raushabt, wenn ihr wollt.)