Juno Monologue

Where we come from is a huge issue. Just as scientists debate the origin of man and the universe, adopted children can have questions about their genetic roots. Questions like: “Why do I look like this?”, “Why do I have these health problems?”, and “Why do I have these emotional issues?” go unanswered if biological parents are never known. In a study of adoptive families, parents were asked how they felt years after their open adoptions. One

"No, to the contrary moreover your bloodline is distinctly remarkable. It happens that I am not your real father; your mother had you when I met her, and at the time I had the two boys. You had a physical beauty that ultimately stole your breath away, large Blue, lavender eyes, and strawberry blonde hair. I thought you were a redhead. Now look at that long dark hair, beautiful. Your as I picture an angel would appear."

I feel my heart boom in my ears screaming at me to go home and never come back, but I can’t because the Oakwood door is already staring at me in my face. I wonder how many times I’ll shut my mouth just so I don’t have to be told to shut it. I feel the air conditioning on my skin as I sit in my seat to unload my belongings. After putting my things on my desk, I heard a loud thump and saw scattered paper all over the floor. “Sorry ‘bout that, maybe you shouldn’t always be in everyone’s way,” hissed Mister to Cool for School, “or maybe you shouldn’t be here at all.”

Todd, a new student at Welton Academy is painfully shy and anxious to speak up. Being constantly told he needs to live up to his older brother’s reputation leaves him constantly tormented. The amount of pressure that Todd’s parents have on him lead to intense shyness, to the point he can scarcely converse with others. “Mr Anderson thinks everything inside of him is worthless and embarrassing.” Mr Keating looks down on Todd as a result of a high angle shot, making Todd look idle and powerless, telling

Sweat drips off my forehead. My heart is beating out of my chest. The world seems to spin as the teacher calls out my name.

Riiing!!!!! Riiing!!!! Riiing!!! The bell rang signalling the end of my eighth period class, Biology. This is the one class I can not seem to wrap my head around, I think to myself. As the other students scuttled out the door I began putting my homework into my backpack. They have all been waiting to leave the classroom since the moment they arrived. I on the other hand am afraid of who might be waiting for me on the other side of the door. When I finished I pulled my right strap over my shoulder and headed for the door. As I approached the door, I heard Mr. Daedalus speak. “Carlton, are you okay? I noticed that everyone rushed to get out of here fairly speedily, everyone except you?”

None of the boys are happy about being forced into signing the paper that will ultimately make Mr. Keating quit but they do so without resisting. As Keating is leaving the classroom with the rest of his things, nobody speaks except for Todd. He desperately attempts to explain to his saddened teacher that the school board made everyone sign the paper in an attempt to keep the traditions of the school from faltering. Todd gets quiet again at the threat of being expelled but as Keating begins to leave, he stands up on top of his desk and says,

Keating forces him to create a poem on the spot in front of the class, although he is well-aware of Todd’s resistance to speak in front of others, after he write a poem on his own as requested. Mr. Keating questions Todd and installs him with a sense of confidence in his own abilities, “Mr. Anderson thinks that everything inside of him is worthless and embarrassing. Isn't that right, Todd? Isn't that your worst fear? Well, I think you're wrong. I think you have something inside of you that is worth a great deal”. Mr. Keating teaches Todd to think freely for himself and that these thoughts and opinions he has are valued. In the end, Todd becomes self-reliant, confident in himself and his ideas and beliefs. He does not conform to society and distinguishes himself amongst the rest, maintaining his own voice, and he overcomes his previous shy and isolated self, becoming a leader, when introduced to these ideas of individualism and

Chang’s argument was supported in the article for birth family once again through his vivid encounter and documentation of Eline. Elines’ inability to connect with her birth family caused severe distress, anxiety and frustration, which would often force her to “seem withdrawn from her [adoptive family].” It was recorded that her parents “couldn’t reach her, [for] two hours.” Dr. Chang was able to provided sufficient evidence that connections to and expectations for birth parents plays a significant role on an adoptees identity as he explained that Eline, “became stable and confident,” and there were “no missing pieces of her life,” once she met her birth family several years later. Dr. Changs’ adequate use of direct quotations said by both Eline and her family, make it undeniably difficult to argue that some sort of closure or connection must be made with the birth family in order for an international adoptee to construct an

Ugh. Mrs. Holverson’s ninth grade Spanish 101. The class that makes me want to die. Literally. I plot down in my assigned seat, the one right in front, and wait for the lesson to start. When it turns five o’clock on the dot, Mrs. Holverson steps into the classroom wearing her always much too tight floral dress. “If you will now take out your one page vocab document and turn to page…” she drones. I pull out my vocab sheet and turn to the correct page to make it look like I'm paying attention, but instead I start to daydream. I daydream about what will the rest of the day look like after Spanish 101. I imagine that, since this is the first course of the day, I will leave this class with a wishful 5/5 for participation. I will walk down the hall to Chem only for the teacher to say that we are going on a field trip to a water park. The whole class starts cheering and we flood the halls out of excitement. Everyone gets on a bus and it takes no time at all to arrive at the water park. Students leave the bus as if they were wasps in a hornet’s nest. No one has their clocks, no one is controlled by them anymore. I am about to go down the biggest slide at the park. I let go of the bars

I was just finishing up the test with only one question remaining. It was a simple algebraic problem, really. A quick rearranging of the variables would have done the job. There was just one small issue. The problem was that the phone in our room started to ring. That distinct ring that anyone from my middle school would know filled the room. At first I didn't even think about it, maybe Mrs. Snyder forgot to send attendance or someone’s mom dropped a package off in the office. Either way it wasn't anything to worry about. That was until her dotted straight to me. My heart rate started to rise a little. I had never been called down to the office, maybe this is was a false alarm in my head. There’s no way it was for me. Right?

“How am I supposed to stay calm, when I just found out that I was adopted? Do you think I’m all right with this? Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?” Lou said panicking.

Today is one of the only days in the year that you’ll find me enthusiastic about going to work. I hurriedly get dressed into my cleaning uniform, eager not to miss the early train. My front steps let out a symphony of creaks and groans as I stride down them two at a time. Once I arrive at work I go straight to the room that has the question written up on the board. I’m here early so the university is quiet now but soon all the students will start to trickle in. I get started writing down the very long and elaborate answer to the question. However, I lose track of time and all of a sudden I see a group of students waiting outside the door. Luckily, they’re too absorbed in their own lives to notice some indigent janitor scribbling away at the board. Eventually the professor strolls in and I don’t get so

"What the hell was that all about, Alexis?" The science teacher, Mr. Cartman, says once he reaches me. He starts walking the same pace as me, waiting for an answer.

At least I wasn’t alone in my frustration of trying to find something to do to make it through the painful moments of the class. Finally, my list of numbers was dwindling as the clock ticked ever closer to the magic moment when the bell would finally ring. It was with great anticipation that I waited to make the final mark. When the bell