Question

linked
chapters twenty-six
point-of-view
rewrite chapter twenty-six from links grandmothers point-of-view.

Explanation:

⚡ Using what you learned: point of view: first, second, and third person

Step 1: Analyze the Original Context of Chapter 26

In Chapter 26 of Gordon Korman's novel Linked, Link (Lincoln) has a pivotal conversation with his grandmother (Gigi). He has recently discovered a shocking truth about his family's history: his grandmother was born in a Jewish ghetto during World War II and was adopted by a non-Jewish family, meaning Link himself has Jewish ancestry.

In the original text, we see this interaction primarily through Link's perspective as he tries to process this revelation, his grandmother's past, and what it means for him—especially in the wake of the swastika vandalism at his school. To rewrite this from his grandmother's point of view, we must adopt a first-person perspective ("I", "me", "my") that reflects her age, her deep-seated memories, her love for her grandson, and the complex emotions of revealing a long-held family secret.

Step 2: Establish the Grandmother's Voice and Internal Monologue

To make the rewrite authentic, we need to capture her internal feelings:

• Relief and Anxiety: She has kept this secret for decades. Sharing it with her young grandson is both liberating and terrifying.
• Love and Protection: She wants Link to understand his heritage but also wants to protect him from the pain and hatred associated with it.
• Sensory Details: Remembering her early childhood, the quiet whispers of her adoptive parents, or the weight of the truth she carried.

Step 3: Draft the Rewrite

Here is a creative rewrite of the scene from the grandmother's first-person point of view:

"I watched Lincoln's face closely as he sat across from me, his eyes wide with a mixture of confusion and sudden realization. My heart hammered against my ribs—a familiar, nervous flutter I hadn't felt in years. For so long, my past was a quiet room I kept locked away, a story from another lifetime in a war-torn world that felt light-years away from our quiet town.

'Gigi,' he began, his voice cracking slightly. 'Is it true?'

I took a slow, deep breath, looking down at my hands. They were wrinkled now, spotted with age, but in my mind, I could still feel the cold chill of the ghetto, the phantom grip of my mother's hand before everything went dark. I had spent my whole life trying to blend in, to be safe, to ensure my children and grandchildren would never have to look over their shoulders the way my biological family did. But seeing the pain and confusion Lincoln was carrying because of the hateful symbols at his school, I knew I couldn't keep quiet any longer. He needed to know who he was.

'Yes, Lincoln,' I said softly, reaching out to cover his hand with mine. 'It is true. I was born Jewish.'

The words hung in the air, heavy but surprisingly freeing. I watched him process it, watching the gears turn in his young mind. I wanted to shield him from the weight of history, but as I looked at him, I also felt an overwhelming surge of pride. He wasn't just my grandson; he was a living testament to survival."

Answer:

Rewritten Scene from Link's Grandmother's Point of View:

I watched Lincoln's face closely as he sat across from me, his eyes wide with a mixture of confusion and sudden realization. My heart hammered against my ribs—a familiar, nervous flutter I hadn't felt in years. For so long, my past was a quiet room I kept locked away, a story from another lifetime in a war-torn world that felt light-years away from our quiet town.

"Gigi," he began, his voice cracking slightly. "Is it true?"

I took a slow, deep breath, looking down at my hands. They were wrinkled now, spotted with age, but in my mind, I could still feel the cold chill of the ghetto, the phantom grip of my mother's hand before everything went dark. I had spent my whole life trying to blend in, to be safe, to ensure my children and grandchildren would never have to look over their shoulders the way my biological family did. But seeing the pain and confusion Lincoln was carrying because of the hateful symbols at his school, I knew I couldn't keep quiet any longer. He needed to know who he was.

"Yes, Lincoln," I said softly, reaching out to cover his hand with mine. "It is true. I was born Jewish."

The words hung in the air, heavy but surprisingly freeing. I watched him process it, watching the gears turn in his young mind. I wanted to shield him from the weight of history, but as I looked at him, I also felt an overwhelming surge of pride. He wasn't just my grandson; he was a living testament to survival.