...“There’s nothing bigger than a man who learns to grow.” This sentence appeared in the story “The Growin of Paul Bunyan”. I agree with this statement because it’s not an easy choice to make. Actually, who of us would request something harder vs. easier? Therefore, the bigger man does the harder stuff. If everything was easy, life would be boring. Some examples from the story are on page 21. “Paul learns how to plant seeds to grow trees.” This was big for Paul because he decided to challenge himself and learn something new. Before he was chopping down all the trees. As soon as Johnny Appleseed could get a sapling growing, Paul would chop it down. My second example I found, is on page 18. “Paul likes chopping trees because it makes him happy”....
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...Hardship I woke up to my mother sitting at the foot of my bed. “Your father had a heart attack, he didn’t make it,” she said. My father was 47 years old and I was only twelve. My father and I were inseparable. He took me to school in the morning, picked me up, took me to work with him, and was the head coach of my baseball team. On that gloomy morning, I knew my life was going to change forever. Since that day I have went through so much hardship and made decisions that define who I am today. The night before, I had been pestering my dad to play Sonic Pinball with me. We were both very competitive and loved playing that video game. I was annoyed because my Dad didn’t want to play that night. Looking back, I could imagine that my father wasn’t feeling well. A week earlier, he had a heart attack and stayed overnight in the hospital. My father often fell asleep on the couch, would wake up in the middle of the night, and then come into the bedroom to go back to sleep. That night, I had fallen asleep in my mother’s bed. My dad woke me up and sent me to sleep in my room. It was the last time I would see him alive. After being told the most shocking news of my life, I didn’t know how to react. I was only twelve years old and had never experienced such a loss. My mother waited for me to say something. “Who’s downstairs?” I asked, in a nonchalant tone. My Uncle Mike was downstairs. I peeked out the window and saw fire trucks, police cars, and all of my neighbors on the street...
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...very yucky out. I didn’t realize this at the time, but it was the perfect weather for death. My phone rang at 5:14 AM, and it was a number I did not recognize so suddenly out of my sleep. I decided to ignore the call. Then seconds later, my phone rang again. This time I picked up, not knowing the moment I answered my life would be forever changed. At first I could not recognize the person on the other end of the line, because of all the pain and crying in her voice, but shortly I realized the person on the other end was the mother of my best friend. Burton Thomas Brown, also known as BT, was found dead on his parent’s couch. He overdosed on what we now know to be Xanax and painkillers. His heart just stopped. The instant I heard those words come out of his mother’s mouth, I think my heart stopped as well. I felt it shatter into five million tiny pieces, build itself back up, and shatter again five million more times. “Why would God, my God, allow for such a horrific thing to happen to such a beautiful person?” is the question that kept running through my confused mind. “Why BT?” I thought to myself, “Why now?” In the days that followed, I experienced a pain I had never knew existed. In comparison to child birth, it was much, much worse. This was an internal pain. A pain that no amount of medication could ever cure. According to everyone around me, this was a pain that only time could heal, but in my eyes, I would be lucky if time could even heal any part of this. In the days...
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...Composition 1 December 10, 2015 My Addiction, My Recovery "It can never happen to me" I thought, as I watched my father drink himself into oblivion and smoke his drugs, from sunrise, to sunset, and sometimes, for days, even weeks with no break in between. When he left, I remember feeling relieved, even at the early age of two. He was in and out of my life, just as often as he was in and out of rehabiliation centers for the chemically addicted. I didn't mind, I didn't have to watch him slowly kill himself, and hurt my mother, brother and I in the process. I never wanted to be like either one of my parents, both addicts with two different choices of poisons, I told myself every single day that would never be me. Me risk losing it all, my family, my friends, my health, everything in the world that means anything to me at all? "Never" is what I told myself, every time I thought of my father, or looked at my mother. That wasn't what I wanted for my life, I wanted a good life, full of happiness and ambition, surrounded by those I love, and I would never settle for less. My parent's and their lifestyle were things I looked to for motivation to stay focused, and on the right track. Boy, did that ever backfire! My brother and I are three years apart in age, he is older, but not by much when it comes to mentality. One night, after a long night of work, I was 15 and already had dropped out of school, I walked into my brothers room and found him at...
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...2013 Richard Banahan Police corruption and misconduct is an issue that is very close to home for me. I am experiencing the outcome as I sit here today. Whether people want to hear it or not, police corruption does exist, it has for a long time and probably will for another long time. During the course of this paper I will talk about police corruption, misconduct, and brutality, present two cases in which these acts took place, describe the details of the case and their outcomes and address my feelings on that outcome. As of right now, I am living one of the worst nightmares that anyone could imagine. My family is personally going through a case of police misconduct and corruption. My brother- in- law was 18 years old when he passed away on November 22, 2011. His mother sold him three fentanyl patches in which he chewed all at once and overdosed. Our family knew right away that she was responsible for his death but know we just had to prove it. We gathered every bit of evidence that we could, text messages between the two of them blatantly discussing the sale and purchase of the drugs, eye witness testimony from his friends that witnessed the sale, a video of him stating that he had bought drugs from his mother and her sister, the wrappers from the patches that have a DEA number on them that can be traced through the pharmacy right back to her, and a death certificate stating cause of death as fentanyl intoxication. The Granite City, IL police department has all...
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...My father is not a kind, gentle or good man. I haven't seen or spoke to him in eleven years, but I know with a certainty I can say that and it still be true. Men like him do not change, they do not grow, they do not admit fault. A few of my posts have spoken of the memories of him that are forever seared into my mind. I sometimes needed to write a bit about him to help you understand certain points or feelings I have now as an adult. I can go months and months without ever having him cross my mind, and that's fine with me. I do not want him in my life, my children know that he is alive and that he is a very bad, bad man. While he's never shown stalking or interest in my life since my mother left him all those years ago, I still take the precautions to warn the school and keep him on the no pick up list with the phrase "contact police immediately" written underneath. Although he could not access my children's school anyway, since they are military children on a base with great security...that is the type of fear he has so gratefully bestowed upon me during my childhood. It lingers and haunts me, and it does even more so during the holiday season. I could write of the beatings, emotional scarring, terror, sexual abuse, and general asshole-iness he loved to dole out to his family on a near daily basis. I could retell any number of situations from my childhood that would make you cringe, tear up, or feel pity for my family. I don't say this with pride or expectation; I say this...
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...Sarah. R. Dominick Prof. Cherisse Flanagan Developmental Psychology April 30, 2013 Grief and Mourning Hello. My name is Sarah R. Dominick, and I am a nineteen-year-old, single, Caucasian American female. I was born in Denver, Colorado to a single mother of three, who was at that time in a lower-class, blue-collar, nonreligious state of being. While growing up, it was always very apparent, and still is apparent, that when our family loses someone, everyone suffers great loss. I have had three family members die throughout my lifetime so far, and every time this type of event takes place, our family immediately seeks each other out. Wherever the deceased happens to be, several relatives from across the country are there within two days of the occurrence. I take great pride in the fact that my family members are willing to go to such lengths to be with their family members when they most need it, and as immediately as possible. After the initial gathering of friends and family takes place, a ceremony is normally in the works. My experience is that our family is geared towards having a memorial service instead of a funeral service. Often we take advantage of the deceased’s hobbies or interests and incorporate them into the ceremony. For example, my great uncle David passed away five years ago. In order to celebrate his life and what he loved, almost everyone wore some type of Harley Davidson memorabilia because he enjoyed riding his motorcycle so much. After the ceremony, there...
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...Alyiah Johnson 20130225 10 Block The Truth about It Characters: April: Daughter of Lauren Lauren: Mother of April and Prostitute of James and Girlfriend of Jacob James: Husband of Renée and Pimp of Goldie Street Renée: Wife of James and Secret Lover of Jacob Jacob: Boyfriend of Lauren and Secret Lover of Renee Act 1 Scene 1- Lauren’s House *As the sun being to rise April is returning home from her morning run and enters the house. Her mother, Lauren, is upstairs getting a hit she doesn’t notice the time.* April: Mom? *she shouts* Where’s breakfast!? The bus will be here in 30 minutes! (Lauren get a sudden realization of the time and franticly thinks of an excuse.) Lauren: I’m busy! You’re old enough, make it yourself. *She finishes her line. April becomes frustrated and storms up the stairs to see what Laruen is doing, but Lauren hears her and slams her door shut, then she locked it* April: What are you doing?! Lauren: Don’t question me! Go get ready for school! *April goes and get dressed for school and fixes her breakfast, time goes by and the bus pulls up for April and she leaves with a slam of the front door. Lauren reaches in her purse and gets out her cell phone to make a phone call.* Scene 2- James’ House *James wakes up to a phone call* James: Hello? Lauren: Hey! I’m ready to work. You down? James: Yeah, I’m on the way. *James hangs...
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...Throughout history a woman’s story was lost. As a society we have glamorized history of women who were called, Red Light Women, Soiled Doves, and Painted ladies. History books leave out many details of what these women lives were really like. Today’s equal rights activist, Roma Thompson, takes a different approach in bringing awareness about todays current equal rights issues. Roma has spent the last three decades designing costumes and doing research on important women in Colorado history, to present to groups, all over the western United States. Thompson’s passion of the rough life of a working girl in the Wild West, opened her eyes to the ugly true of the battle of equal right’s that women have endured throughout history. Every women in history had a story, from the parlor women, to the Madam’s, and history’s leading women activist. Even though, women still struggle to be equal in today’s society, Roma feels that educating on the women in the past, will bring awareness to the true worth and importance of women in the world. Thompson creatively transports her audience back in time to the early 1900s, starting with the painted ladies and madams, and leads into women who inspired her the most. Brothels could be found in all different areas—mining towns, cow towns, logging camps, large cities, cattle-shipping centers, end-of-track towns, army settlements, and frontier boon towns; these same brothels ranged from makeshift tents to dignified mansions, and even portable brothels...
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...Looking back on my own life, I see different experiences, struggles, and accomplishments as different stages of self-growth. They have helped me to understand my own potential and the path that I wish to take in life. I feel that I have lived deeply, suffered greatly, and emerged stronger. I wish to apply the valuable life lessons I have gained to what I feel is my true calling- nursing. This is my second time applying to your program, and as upset as I was that I wasn’t accepted the first time, I feel as though everything happens for a reason and without the rejection I never would have had an opportunity to work with some of the greatest physicians and researchers at Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center this past year. When I was in my senior year of high school my mother admitted herself into a thirty-day rehab program for alcoholism in Pennsylvania. I was left to take care of a younger sister and a brother who was suffering with his own demons; my brother was addicted to drugs and at this point he was at his worst. I knew my mother had to leave to get better for herself and her three children, so I rose to the occasion and thought, I can do anything for thirty days, but those thirty days turned into 270 days. My mother felt she needed more treatment and a half way house was going to be the best option for her in order to come back stronger for us. At this point my brother had been in and out of jail, hospitals for overdosing, and had lost his job. I needed to keep this...
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...childhood. As a result, Eminem was raised by his mother, Deborah Mathers. She never managed to hold down a job for more than several months at a time, so they moved frequently between Missouri and Detroit, Michigan, spending large chunks of time in public housing projects. "I would change schools two, three times a year," Eminem later recalled. "That was probably the roughest part about it all." This itinerant lifestyle left a large impact on his personality. He had no close friends, kept almost entirely to himself and was treated like an outcast at each new school. "Beat up in the bathroom, beat up in the hallways, shoved into lockers," he remembered. Eminem has been scathingly critical of the way his mother raised him. Through his song lyrics, he has publicly accused her of being addicted to prescription drugs as well as subjecting him to emotional and physical abuse. However, Deborah Mathers has vehemently denied all such accusations, and in 1999 she filed a $10 million defamation lawsuit against her son. They settled the case for $25,000. Eminem attended Lincoln High School in Warren, Michigan, where he failed the ninth grade three times and eventually dropped out at the age of 17. Despite being a poor student, Eminem always had a deep affinity for language, devouring comic books and even studying the dictionary. "I found that no matter how bad I was at school, like, and no matter how low my grades might have been at some times, I always was good at English ... I just felt...
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...devastating. Cannabis is a much safer, 100% natural approach to treating chronic illnesses and it is not damaging to peoples organs. In fact, the human body has built in cannabinoid receptors in the brain and the spleen, and our bodies actually create our own cannabinoid proteins, which contains no psychoactive component. Therefore, the human body creates its own cannabis. Personally, being through what I have been through with my chronic illness; Idiopathic Intracranial Hypertension (IIH), and the numerous amounts of pharmaceutical drugs I have been prescribed. I have had severe allergic reactions to various pharmaceutical drugs, a medication induced seizure, and could have possibly overdosed due to the wrong amount of medication being prescribed. Given my current situation and my new perspective on consuming something that has been on this planet for millions of years (holistic ancient medicine), or consuming something fabricated in a laboratory. I prefer to take the all-natural approach, in treating my IIH. Additionally, I am not the only American in my situation and I am not the only American who has had negative experiences with pharmaceutical drugs. There is a very touching documentary on CNN News by Saundra Young, “Marijuana stops child’s severe seizures”. Charlotte Figi also known as, Charlie...
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...someone’s life isn’t breaking the law, because the affects alcohol has on the body causes a lot more issues down the road. Alcohol use is extremely common in our society. Young ones grow up watching their parents drink, at special occasions, as well as casually enjoying a few beers at a picnic. Now a day’s kids and young adults are surrounded by the use of alcohol on a daily basis. Underage drinking not only has devastating effects on those who drink but also on our society. Many parents don’t feel the need to have a talk with their kids about the consequences of underage drinking. Q As children approach their teen years, they begin to experience many emotional and physical changes, and these changes are not always easy. During this challenging time, some children may...
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...fairy-tale “Hansel and Gretel”, Gretel and her brother are abandoned by their parents, specifically an abusive stepmother, in the forest. In Local Girls, Gretel and her brother Jason are abused by their stepmother, who yells at them repeatedly, even calling Gretel a “little bitch” (49). In the fairy tale, the stepmother leaves the children in the woods because the resources at home are too sparse. Similarly, Gretel and Jason’s stepmother, Thea, tries to push her stepchildren out of the house: Thea was talking about what a great place we were going to for dinner, and how they liked people to dress nicely, which of course was a dig at me, not that I cared about her sense of style. Then she started in on her real agenda – how the house she and my father had recently bought might look big, but it was really just right for two people. I guess she wanted to squelch any ideas...
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...own emotions. Although the sensational nature of her death by suicide has led some critics and readers to conflate the value of her life and art, Sylvia Plath's poetry demonstrates an astonishing capacity to engage with the art of poetry; many of her words and images have become fully entrenched in the literary consciousness. EARLY LIFE Sylvia Plath was born on October 27, 1932 in Jamaica Plain, Massachusetts to Aurelia Schobert Plath (American of Austrian descent) and Otto Emile Plath (immigrant from Grabow, Germany). Her father was a biology and German professor at Boston University. He was also an author of a book based on bumblebees. There was a stark age difference between Plath’s parents, her mother being twenty one years younger to her father. The couple met when her mother was attaining Master’s Degree in teaching and opted one of his father’s course. Three years post the birth of young Plath, her brother Warren was born. Subsequently, her family shifted to Winthrop, Massachusetts in 1936. A large portion of Plath’s childhood was spent on Johnson Avenue. Her father, Otto Plath died on 5 November, 1940...
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