Evaluative activity

1. IFRJ - Campus Arraial do Cabo Disciplina: Inglês II
Professora: Cintia Santos
Aluno (a): _____________________________ Valor: 3,0
TEST
Diary 62 - Dear Diary,
(1) Today marks a turning point in my life. As soon as I walked into Ms. G’s second period class, I picked up The
Color Purple, a novel written by Alice Walker. I began to read, kept reading, read some more, and found myself
unable to put it down. It was so intense and complex. I read slowly, wondering who she was, where she had gone.
I’d never seen her before, had never been where she’d been. Yet in the midst of it all, Celie seemed strangely familiar.
Life wasn’t easy for Celie, but she knew how to survive. She needed little to get by. Come to think of it, I do know
who Celie is… My Uncle Joe was unlike any other uncle. He was nice, caring, a good listener, understanding, very
handsome, and best of all, he always knew just what to say whenever I was miserable. He was always there for me
when I needed a warm, sincere, loving hug. Basically, he was my hero.
(9) I loved Uncle Joe with all my heart. We lived in a very small apartment complex, so Uncle Joe, my younger
brothers, and I all slept in the living room. Moonlight filled our tiny room and the scent of a freshly cut Christmas
tree filled my nostrils. Life couldn’t have been better, or so I thought… “Hmm? What is that? Who’s touching me?”
Whatever it was, I didn’t like it…it was Uncle Joe. What was he doing to me? Whatever it was, I wanted him to stop.
I opened my mouth to tell him to stop, but the words wouldn’t come.
(14) It was as if a ton of bricks had fallen on me, knocking the air from my lungs, making me unable to speak. I felt
his body right next to mine and his breathing got stronger and stronger. He was touching me in places I didn’t know
could make me feel so dirty. I didn’t move a muscle. I made my body as hard as a rock, as he slowly slid his hand up
my shirt caressing my back and the side of my breasts. He kept on trying to make me lie on my back, but he was
unsuccessful. He got closer and closer.
(19) I could actually feel his skin touching mine. The feel of his sweat and his lips on my skin made me want to cry.
A gigantic lump formed in my throat and to this day, nothing makes it go away. Uncle Joe wasn’t being rough with
me, which made it hard for me to decide whether or not what he was doing to me was wrong. It tore me up inside to
think he would actually do me any harm. I was only a little girl, but I knew what he was doing was wrong. But why?
Uncle Joe is the most righteous person I’ve ever met…After Uncle Joe invaded me, he got up for a drink of water.
As soon as I heard the water running in the kitchen, my hatred for him grew. It was as if he was thirsty and exhausted
from fulfilling himself and making me feel like the dirtiest being alive. I had to think fast. “What to do, what to do?”
I got up to go sleep on the couch before he came back. I didn’t want him to do any more than he already had. Uncle
Joe came back and took his tanktop off. He saw me on the couch and asked what was wrong. I looked at him for a
few seconds. “Nothing…I just can’t get to sleep.” I wanted to cry out.
(29) I wanted the entire universe to know I was scared. That I needed to be held; that I wanted to die…but who could
I run to? The only person I could talk to was hurting me. I sat there for a long time while Uncle Joe fell asleep. I
didn’t dare blink. The next morning, I heard my parents get up and get ready to leave for work. I’ll never forget that
feeling of hopelessness when my mother kissed me good-bye. Uncle Joe baby-sat my brother and me every day. But
today was different and he was acting as if nothing had happened. He was being his usual “charming” self. I was so
angry, I couldn’t think straight. I refused to do anything he wanted me to do. He acted like he wanted to hit me. My
face hot with rage, I ran into the living room crying, yelling how much I hated him. It wasn’t so much that he had
changed the way I felt about myself. He had destroyed the only thing I believed in. He destroyed my belief in him.
All he had to do was apologize, and once again I was charmed. His eyes seemed so sincere. He really believed he
had done nothing wrong. The hours felt endless. My only relief was when my mom came home. Only then did I dare
to take a shower, trying hard to scrub away the permanent filth. As soon as I got out of the shower, I pulled my
mother into her bedroom and told her everything. My relationship with Uncle Joe has never been the same since.
Celie was violated, tormented, humiliated, degraded; yet through it all, she remained innocent! Out of all this horror,
Celie was given courage. Courage to ask for more, to laugh, to love, and finally—to live. Now I’m certain who Celie
is. Celie is and always has been me…and with this in mind, I will survive.
Glossary
Turning (l.1) virada scent (l.10) aroma slid (l.16) desliza dare (l. 31) ousar
Wondering (l.3) imaginando nostrils (l.11) narinas sweat (l.19) suor blink (l. 31) piscar
Midst (l.4) meio bricks (l.14) tijolos lips (l.19) lábios straight (l.34) direito
Get by (l.5) se virar knocking (l.14) retirando/ batendo
lump (l.20) (caroço/ brasil (bolo na garganta) Tiny (l.10) pequeno lungs (l.14) pulmões
hatred (l.24) ódio Relief (l.38) alívio yelling (l.35)gritando