B+ with draft
A+ with revised
Explanation:
There were some grammatical errors when I read it however I touched it up. I believe it would've been a high b or a low a. However I did fix your grammatical errors and believe now it could be a high A.
The "favela" doesn't have a poem, but an entire romance. The first page of this book starts in the 19º century, at that time, something "revolutionary" would happen in Brazil - All the black people, that before were slaves, suddenly experimented the freedom.
This introduction that, was supposed to be a dream, brought a quick and problematic development: "Yeah, we're free; so, where do we go now?"
The absence of government's support forced many slaves to work, justly, for the landlords that they had a slaver-enslaved relationship, but now for money and not to avoid whippings.
But others had the desire to distance yourself from the dark past that lived in the past. The only place that they were comfortable being themselves was next to other black people. They moved to the hillsides and started to make brick-built houses, giving birth to the very first "favela," The "Providence Hill."
Even if it had a recent birth, these places already gave shelter, together with ex-slaves, many criminals that operated in the areas.
In an edition of 6/5/1909 from the journal Morning Mail, the "favela" starts to gain another meaning for the newspaper[1]:
"The place where resides the majority of braves from our country, and that, exactly by this. By being the hideout of people willing to kill by any motive or, no motive at all. Don't have the minimum respect for the criminal code nor the police."
And violence there isn't small, compared with other areas of Rio de Janeiro, these communities have three times more shooting homicides[2]. Not only by the criminals, but by the police too, with an explosion in the number of deaths by police intervention, growing 127% in 4 years[3]. Making the life of who lives in the "favelas," a living hell.
The "favelated": black and poor; still feels the exclusion of the State, being "confused" with criminals, feeling the oppression of living in a battlefield for bandits and the police. And mainly, holding that cultural heritage from the times where their great-great-grandparents became free-slaves, without any chance of rising in life.
But this expectation of being someone despite your past, now it's not just a dream, due to the technological advance, the globalization and, mainly, the growing conscientization of the people that were before discriminated; these factors have the power to change centuries of history and allow people that don't have the opportunity to assume important roles in your society and do better than people from the past.
The poet, bothered with the contempt of the State, wrote the poem because he knows that theses places, after everything, after all the criminality, violence, misery, still hold the prettiest thing: dreams.
