John Proctor... Hero or Stooge?

Throughout Arthur Miller's "The Crucible", we see different characters develop in such ways that I didn't know were, well, humane. There was Abigail, who turned from a lovesick girl to a power hungry abomination who used her innocence to manipulate the others in Salem. Then there was Minister Hale, who's vision was cleared of the lies and tried to fight to protect those who were convicted of these false accusations. Many others developed in a good or bad way, some didn't even develop. which in itself is very frightening to me, and then there was John Proctor. John Proctor was a man of practical beliefs, one who saw these witch hunts as frauds from the very beginning, a man who's pride and reputation was everything to him. During these witch hunts, John Proctor knew he was practically the only man who could stop these events from reaching its fatal end, but he was stuck in his own internal conflict. Proctor knew, and he wanted to change these things happening in Salem, but he knew that if he did, his "dirty" secret would be revealed and his name soiled as a result.

In the end, Proctor did tell Judge Hawthorne that this was all a fraud and his affair with Abigail, which was a significant factor in the witch hunts, but it only resulted in the jailing of John and his wife, convicted of witchcraft. In his final hour, Mister John Proctor did not confess to witchcraft and was hanged, along with the truth. As for the question, hero or stooge, I don't think he is either. Personally, I don't believe heroes exist among humanity, as every person has some sense of corruption in them, but John Proctor was no stooge. In my eyes, John Proctor was simply a man who fought to bring out the truth, and that in itself, is beautiful. Hero or stooge? Simply a man, but many may argue he is a hero, as that's the way the story depicts him.

"There Goes the Neighborhood"

The leaves crunching beneath my feet, my pace begins to pick up as I try to catch up with the others, The images of trees blur past the side of my vision until there is none left to blur.Once I reach the end of the beach, I see where the stories of the massive beasts began. All of my fellow Taino tribesman stopped dead in their tracks and stood there, watching the pale gods emptying from their holy vessels. We watched them land on our beach, walking on our sand and all I could think was how blessed we were to have these godly men walking on our land. The oldest of our tribe, the tribes leader, walked towards him while the rest of us young watched him and felt his bold presence with every step he took closer to those men. He stared them down, studied them as he studied animal tracks in the summer. He then spoke to one of them, a man speaking to what seemed to be a spirit of a man, with a brown crown upon his head. The two spoke, but did not seem to understand one another, until on of our own came from the vessel. He spoke in both our tongue, and theirs. He told us not to be afraid, that these were beings of a peaceful manner, and we presented them with gifts, precious to our people. 

This was more than two months ago, and in the time that the beings left, the ones left behind showed their true form as monstrous, evil men. They began to live on our land, but not as we did. They destroyed the very essence of nature itself, cutting down its trees, killing its children with no honor and corrupting the women to the point that we had to fight back. It wasn't long until more of them landed, but it was too late when we realized that these were not spirits, but mere men with the power of destruction beyond our comprehension. Treating them as gods was our mistake, but corrupting the balance of our world was theirs. 

Me

I guess the best way to start an entry about myself would be by introducing myself. My name is Nathan Cerero and I currently attend Whitney M. Young High school. I was born in Chicago on the fourth of June, 1999. My parents conceived me at a relatively young age (21) and since they did not go to college, they had trouble finding a well paying job to support our family. As a result, I grew up in a household that taught me to appreciate all the things I have, or ever had. My parents also taught me the importance of education as they did not see they made the right choices education wise. I spent my younger years focusing on schoolwork rather than my social life, and this is something I regret, but would not take back. As time passed, my father found a job that could support our now family of four for the time being. It was around this time I found my passion for music, when I picked up my first guitar. Ever since that moment, I spent most of my life balancing my education and my music. I entered a Mariachi program in the fourth grade and stayed there until the end of eighth grade. I returned the following year to assist the younger and less experienced players. The one thing I have learned from life so far is that everything ends, so it's better to enjoy it than to hope for more.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U33LnAtrIlM

My dad was born in Puebla, Mexico and moved over to the States at a young age. My mother was born in Chicago and met my dad in the seventh grade. Both sides of the family are very into the Mexican culture, having multiple parties, cooking very traditional Mexican food and playing a lot of Spanish music. The music is the most beautiful and intriguing thing to listen to, and I suppose that's where the music era began in my life. I also grew up in Pilsen, on 18th and Wood, where a lot of artists make their home. The art is really what defines Pilsed, and is also what defines me as a person. Everything in my life so far, the decisions (small or big) all led to me being in this school, and although I regret many things, I'm glad that this was the end result.