It was as if life was sluggishly pulling out my blooming, tender, young heart, and crushing it. He would then extract another heart; a dark, dry, crusty, lifeless heart from his grey bag of elderliness and age, and would push it in, not quick and swiftly, but slowly...making my skin wrinkle like a purple prune, turning my hair gray as a mop, slowly killing and forcing death upon me. Aging felt like a gunshot; a stab; poison to my soul. As I was slowly swaying into the stuffy, crowded, gymnasium, I was reminded of that once again. It was the melancholy truth. I would nevermore be in elementary school again, for the rest of my brief life. “Are you all ready?” our obsidian-haired music teacher asked, with a depressed, gloomy tone. She irritated me a lot throughout the course of the school year, like a cheetah picking on an antelope, and she scarcely taught us any music other than things I, and almost everyone, already knew. It was a great thing we weren’t tested on any of the stuff we were supposed to learn, because would I failed for sure. This year, we had to sing “Happy” by Pharrell. “Sure,” I replied sarcastically, along with a few others. Our tones were unexcited, as was hers. I hoped the song didn’t end up to be as terrible as it was during practice. But I was mistaken. At every note I cringed, as if I were watching a horror movie. Ten students were offkey, another ten ahead of the rest of us, and yet another ten behind the rest of us. It was
For my ethnographic essay I chose to study the life of police officers who work in the City of Saginaw. Today’s society is consumed by false statements and false social media articles. There are thousands of articles, television commercials, and websites about police brutality, race problems, and rarely seeing anything good about police officers. Lately it seems as though society is more concerned about police brutality than actual positive affects police officers have on society. With all of the things you hear on social media, and fake Facebook articles there are many different things that need to be taken into consideration. What are the positive affects police officers have on the world and in your
Seven years earlier, I migrated to Hawaii when I was twenty-three. I had flown away from my mother and my life in the Philippines. Like young adults and being rebellious, I wanted to live on my own away from my mother 's roof. I left the city life I grew up with in the Philippines in hope of a better life in another country.
Harper Lee uses racism, hypercriticism, prejudice, and many different scenarios to show confliction in the novel To Kill A Mockingbird. Lee uses confliction to provide knowledge to the reader, showing that as the novel progresses and more conflictions arise, not all men are created equal. There are multiple conflicts throughout Harper Lee’s novel that influenced the plot of To Kill A Mockingbird, one of which was the trial between Tom Robinson and Bob Ewell over the rape of his daughter, Mayella Ewell.
This is my newest student, Edward. The attached photograph depicts one of our first lessons together. I have grown to deeply care for him since I began teaching him free of charge through an outreach program called Para Los Niños. He represents the potential I see in every child, and on a more personal level, he has deepened my awareness of and gratitude for every person that has been involved in my musical education. Because of Edward, I am quickly developing a vigorous belief that learning an
Even though some say that Malthus’s theory was correct, I believe that Malthus’s theory on global overpopulation was wrong. Malthus’s theory was wrong because he didn't see the future of technology, birth rates or what the global population would look like in the future. However, even though I believe that Malthus's theories weren't correct a few hundred years ago, doesn't mean that they will always be incorrect.
We started off with a chaste kiss, and I have to say, kissing his lips once again was one of the best feelings in the world. I started to deepen it, loving the way his lips seemed to roll against my own, and I realized as well that this was definitely the right feeling as well. I know for a fact that this is the right thing that we both needed.
After talking to the three sisters about her future and making a wish she wanted to know if it would actually come true she thought on it for a bit and walked home. When she walked home she thought about how tired she was of this place and she could not wait longer. When she got home Nenny was off playing in her room parents doing house work so she walked in her room grabbed her backpack and started packing. Okay so I need clothes, money, journal, and food to start me off she goes and gets all of things ready and walks out while her family is distracted. She walks past the four tall trees and says nothing only her thoughts, past the trees and into the city where there are new exciting things she has never experienced before there are fast
Her mouth would close, with lack of will and lack of food. My eyes would awaken within her, building my home as I destroyed hers. I grew strong as she grew weak, my fingers gripping the wheel as I guided her towards the toilet, the hospital bed, and hopefully the grave. They would say it was such a shame, that she died so young. So much potential they would exclaim. And I would slip away, leaving just a memory. An imprint on the memory of her father, a memory of that cruel parasite that overtook his daughter.
This is what my life has become. Full of rage, anger and jealousy. Yes, I’m jealous. Jealous of a man I have never met, but it’s fair because he tried to steal what belongs to me. How dare he? He is nobody; he has nothing under his name. He thought he could go against me. Challenge me. He even had the audacity to refuse the money I gave him. He said he wasn’t that type of person, that he had morals. He is so stupid, now he has no money and nothing to steal from me. I made sure of that.
I only saw Sunhat Girl once, and yet, once was enough to change my destiny.
It was a normal day in Paoli, me and my mom were walking to EL Compadres from the library. My brother was currently going to his band competition, and my sister was out horseback riding with her friends. As we walked by the new deck a small chubby kid with a face full of ugly smudged freckles waddled out of El Compadres and stabbed me with a vial of green liquid. He yelled “ Get out of my way!” and smacked me in the face. My mom grabbed his arm and swung him onto the ground. He cursed at us got up and ran off.
I never liked going to school and loved to stay at home with my mom, my brother, Christopher, and my puppy, Zoe Belle. Kindergarten was a struggle for me; I did not like my teacher and I did not like leaving my safe, comfortable home. I went to kindergarten on Monday, Wednesday and every other Friday, so on my days off my mom and I would practice my writing and penmanship skills.
My palms were as sweaty and heart was in my throat. My mom and I were currently at Hartsfield Jackson Airport, waiting for his arrival. I knew my mom was feeling as nervous as me because she almost ran someone over this morning. She was boring holes into the sliding glass doors, as if she glared hard enough, it would open. I held my breath as I saw the doors slide open, only to sigh when I saw a woman with Wal-Mart on her luggage cart. After a few dozen people, a 5’6 male figure with a pair of jeans, blue t-shirt, and socks and sandals made his way over to us after my mom basically yelled out, ”Bao!”, his name, and waved like her life depended on it. He’s here, my older brother.
A few years ago, I finally decided to have the have the guts and ask my mom the question I had been wanting to ask her. Growing up I had strict parents but not that strict as if I were a prisoner in my own home. Almost every parent appear to be strict others on the other hand are not strict. Entering high school would be the most scariest chapter in my life, I going to meet several new people in my life. Biting my nails as I’m walking in on my first day of highschool, I turn my head left and right as if I were an owl. Seeing every girl looking like they are barbie dolls or Miss Universe. All the girls with their fresh makeup done like a professional makeup artist did their makeup while I am looking like a dead rat. My mother never allowed me to wear makeup for the reason being that I’d get acne.
My heart is pounding in my chest as I step onto the dusty gym floor. My palms are damp with perspiration. I slowly look around the room. Girls wearing headbands, shorts, and t-shirts fill the gym. Some girls wear the same nervous expression I do, and some have a look of confidence on their face. The sound of girls handling basketballs fills the gym. I walk over to the rack hesitantly and slowly reach out and grasp a basketball. The bumpy texture of the ball in my hand is familiar, and provides a sense of comfort. I look over at my sister and we head over to an empty basketball hoop. We start to shoot around, preparing for the tryouts that are moments away from starting.