...December 31, 1999. I was in a hospital. I didn't know what has happening. The time was about 6:53 a.m. Oh, but one thing I left out was... I was about 2 seconds old. Apparently I was place in a family with an African-American dad, and a country white mom. Also, I have and older sister and an older mentally challenged brother. They were desiding what to name me, and it was between Mariah and Kaleigh. My dad actually desided to go with Kaleigh Joy on his way back from getting my siblings breakfast from McDonalds after I was born. So thats my name now. I mad that I didnt get a say in it, but what are you gonna do. I was 21 inches long, and I weighed almost 8 pounds. Big baby right? The next time I was in a hospital, I was almost 6 years old,...
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...the crazy woman that is my mother, when she wakes up, its like shes a different person. Kind, caring, loving, energetic, you know how moms are supposed to be. Or she doesn't actually sleep but is in a state of half consciousness, and any and all little sounds will wake her up and will make her very upset. Just yesterday she went to sleep and came out roughly an hour later, screaming at me, kicking and throwing things around because i had the fan in the living room on and she could...
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...me and my mom for the first six years of my life. My mom had me at a pretty young age; she was about sixteen years old when she gave birth to me. I was born in the city of Waukegan, Illinois. My mom and I stayed in a one bedroom apartment that was painted baby blue in Zion, Illinois. Growing up I was a happy child. A lot of things made me happy, the biggest thing that made me happy is the way my mother put all her time and affection into making sure I wasn't in need or want of anything because she always made sure I was well kept. Me being the only child at the time made me have that one feeling that is completely irreplaceable. I remember my mom would would always buy these little hair barrettes, and everyday she would change them to match my outfit I was wearing. This all changed when my mom got pregnant....
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...Mann School at the NYC youth golf session, and decided to apply after researching available curriculums at the Horace Mann. Even though Alexis is considerate and mature, so many thoughts and interests going through her mind and needs to be a bit more organized. For example, Alexis started learning cello at school and she was a beginner student simply attending school music class/concerts. One day she brought a memo indicating The New York State School Music Association (NYSSMA) Assessment was open to all students, and she really wanted to participate, however, could not decide how to organize her time allocation of possible cello lessons while handling daily school works and other activities. Finally, we all sat down to discuss what was my daughter’s opinion and what are our suggestions and let Alexis prepare for this event. She did the research on her own and decided to practice by watching the YouTube thus minimizing shuffling of previously set schedules. We were skeptical at first, then we respect her decision and plan. To our surprise, she ends up getting a perfect score without any private lessons, but more importantly, we cheered her own way of organizing, planning, and making an effort to practice cello regardless of the final score. She improved her organizational skill through this experience and now she enjoys cello even more with heightened confidence. Recently, this same method applied to a tryout for the Westchester County Student Orchestra and Alexis made one...
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...My mother was diagnosed with sciatica back in 2004 after an accident at work, which caused nerve pain in the legs and back. My mother kept her pain in control for over ten years until a hike in Shenandoah Valley. Since then, she would bellow in pain at home. I would be afraid to be in the same room as her only because seeing her in pain would bring tears to my eyes. I was not able to help as well as my father did because I would be frozen in place seeing my mother howl in pain and have tears roll down her cheeks. I felt helpless for my remaining summer months, as I never left the house for the entire summer. I tended to my mother, as she was unable to walk, or even get out of bed. She collapsed many times out of sheer anguish. Eventually, we finally decided to take her to a surgeon. As of today, her physical health is stronger than ever before. Nevertheless, the days of her pain made me afraid to lose her. Yet, my mother is not the only one who suffers in the family....
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...Mom is crying, so is Dad. We walk into the hospital. The hospital smells like new. New shoes, new carpet, new sheets. I ran to hug my crying aunt. I didn't really know what was going on, but everyone was sad. Buckets of tears were pouring out everywhere I looked. I heard parts of conversations floating around me. Where is he? Is he okay? Can we see him? Okay. How's he doing? There's food upstairs. My cousins, siblings, and I were not allowed to enter the hospital room, so we stayed in the waiting room while the adults left to see my grandfather. Jacob, the oldest, was 12 and tried to keep us all together while having a conversation with Ezra who was nine years old. Emily and I were seven and six. I looked down at Abigail,...
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..."Mom, I'm Bi." As those words fell out of my mouth I immediately wanted to take them back. Every second of silence that fell upon the room I felt as if the couch I was sitting on was swallowing me up. I look up to see a blank expression stretched across her face, I start getting nervous and remember all the times I had heard my friends and family members mention that liking the same sex was wrong. I start to panic and I break down crying at the thought of me not being accepted. I feel an arm being gently placed around me hugging tightly, I look up to see my mothers face streaked with tears, she tells me she loves me and that nothing will ever change that. Growing up as bisexual was extremely difficult because of the stigma towards homosexuality in...
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...Horse Play I was in my house peacefully in bed when my mom came up stairs in my room. My Mom yelled, “ Wake up, it’s time to go to Linda’s house!!“ Linda is my older friend. My Mom, sister, and I go there from 9:00A.M. to 12:00 in the afternoon. We were so excited to get to get to Linda’s. She’s awesome, and we love going to her house. We were ready to go. My mom almost forgot to get her car keys, but don’t worry she got them. My sister and I wanted to hurry to get in the car and go, but my mom had to lock the house doors. Then, she had to get in the car, turn it on, and then we could go. Next, we got out of the car at Linda’s. When we got out of the car at Linda’s we met her and our horse instructor Alisha. We also met the animals. The horses names are Analee, Jay, and Jay’s mother ( I forget her name ). We also met Milo the fuzzy orange cat...
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...Jacob Personal Narrative There was something that happen to me that was very sad and made me really depressed. My mom had told me that someone in our family hasn't been doing so well.She hasn’t been doing so well for about a month. When I got home from school, 3 days later after she had whispered she hasn’t been doing so well. She cried, “our great grandma had died about 2 hours ago’’,at that point I feel really bad for my grandma because that's her mom. I’m 100% sure that nobody would like it if there mom had died. Later that weekend I had gone to my grandma's house to hangout with all of my family and, go to the funeral. At about 3:00 I went to this church about 8 minutes away from my grandma’s house. What I didn’t like about it is that I don't like dressing up nice because it takes forever to get ready. We got at the funeral and...
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...Where these two are the same is that they are both black, they both go to school and they both love it. “The Sanctuary of School” is Lynda Barry’s narrative essay about her experience as a neglected child and how she learned to use art to cope with her situation. In her essay Barry describes a memory of being a seven-year-old child of parents who focus their attention on finances instead of her and her brother. Barry writes about an occasion when she leaves her house in the early morning hours and finds herself at her school’s playground. She is found by the school janitor, who allows her to assist him as he does his duties to prepare the classrooms. Soon after she greeted by the school secretary and a teacher who both wave at her. When her teacher, Mrs. LeSane, arrives she runs toward her in tears of relief. Mrs. LaSane asks Barry to carry her purse, which Barry feels to be an honor. It is here that Barry finds her security in art, drawing a house with a blue sky and sun in the corner and flowers. Barry learns to use this skill to help deal with her home life, describing it as a “life preserver.” “The First day”, by Edward P. Jones is about a five year old girl and her mom who went to apply for a school. The first school they didn’t get her because the address that the mother gave the school wasn’t available. So the little girl’s mom took her to the school Walker Jones. In...
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...Lake” and Judy Brady’s “I want a wife”, both authors write on personal encounters they experienced. The author chooses two different methods of writing styles. E.B. White utilizes a nostalgic reflective descriptive piece, whereas Brady uses a more sarcastic narrative. Arguably both writers do a great job in their story telling skills. Both stories are respected and pleasing, yet similar but different at the same time. The authors’ choice of writing style is what gives one story more of an advantage to the other. Though descriptive and narrative essay have identical intent – to tell the reader a story- narratives are more effective in capturing the audience because the uses of different voices, they bring ideas into perspective and they are relatable. There are special components that both style of writing possesses. Narrative writing usually does not stress adjectives to give the physical details of characters, setting or events in the story. Nothing like descriptive writing, narrative writings are written in the first person in order to convey the author's attitudes, beliefs and memories. Narratives are conventional, while descriptive writings content often emphases on a single event, object or place. Occasionally, writers utilize narrative writing style to tell about the past or the future in broad terms. A narrative often reflects personal experience, clarifying what happened during some sort of incident. Narrative essay topics include recounting an experience where the learned...
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...The novel “Things Fall Apart” written by the author Chinua Achebe is a narrative about a well respected warrior named Okonkwo. Okonkwo was a warrior of the Umuofia Clan, whose cowardly father, Unoka, died in the utmost dishonor. He was in such disgrace with the village people because of his lack of providing for their every needs and unsettled debts. He showed no kind of interest in his community like he stepped up to do. For these reasons Okonkwo became a clansman, warrior, and family provider. Okonkwo figured that if he took over for his father he will conquer all visionaries of those in his tribe, including making sure his lazy son, Nwoye, will not fall into the footsteps of failure like Unoka. With that being said Okonkwo positions himself into doing things out of the ordinary which changed the village overall perspective on his character. This novel gives you a general overview on life and how bashful one can get once given higher power. It seems that Okonkwo is a stubborn, bashful, egotistic, and self centered man who wants everything his way or it does not fit at the moment. He feels as if he is the only one who has say so and if he does not agree with the matter than it will not transpire, no ifs, ands, buts about it. What bothered me the most was the fact of him beating his youngest wife, Ojiugo, during the Week of Peace. He severely beat her because of his accusations of her failing to exercise the care for a frugal person such as himself. He broke the peace of the...
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...Personal Narrative “RYAN!” My sister shouts from the lake as I spray on sticky sunscreen. “Hurry up, we’re about to leave!” Hurriedly grabbing my towel, I swing open the screen door of my grandma’s remote Minocqua cabin, bounding down wooden steps to a similarly wooden pier. As I clamber onto the boat after my siblings and parents, I check what’s in it- a rope, a handle, waterskis, and a few fishing rods- we’re ready! Once I untie us from the dock, my dad pushes off and we chug across North Placid Lake .I’m 11 years old, and today is the first day I will try to waterski. I’m not sure what to expect- will it be easy? Difficult? Will I get dragged, unable to let go? My worries fade away into calmness as I observe the serene woodlands I’ve become...
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...Personal Narrative Essay Title: “For Sale” Everyone knows that phrase: “The grass is always greener on the other side”. But as a child it was a hollow statement for me. Until the day I perceived it as my philosophy of survival. This story is of my purest memories following my relentless battles. Simplistic flashbacks of virtuous kids. Full of laughter and play with nothing to be feared except for the day’s end. All before the moment where the innocence was dissolved away by the acidic misfortunes of life. [a series of sentence fragments] To illustrate, the first setting in this world was in the town called “Ocala”. It was in South-central Florida, a place where nature thrived and creatures of all walks of life roamed. The most business we had there was a prison thirty miles away, and a Wal-Mart 30 miles further down the same road. So one would say it was pretty rural. Just a quaint ole town, where the trees outnumbered the people. My best friend Samantha and I loved the fact that we had mother-nature as our playground. Spending most of our waking moments playing in the open forests, we’d sneak around concocting strategic methods on how to collect lizards and insects, then place them in small decorated cages. Once we obtained our new pets, we would examine and befriend each one, always setting them free later. However, our nights were different, pictures were taken, video games were played and even dress up was included from time to time. Videogames helped enable our...
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...discussion board forum titled “My Mother Never Worked.” If you are working with a partner or in a small group, type the full name of each group member into the subject line of your post. Answer Box 1. Answer question one under Purpose and Audience. Write the thesis IN YOUR OWN WORDS. I believe that the point that the writer is trying to prove is that her mother was a hard worker throughout her whole life who never once stopped working regardless of the circumstances or obstacles that she came across. I think that her thesis was never explicitly stated because the telephone conversation stated her thesis well. She stated her essay with the telephone conversation and in the pause between the response of the lady from the Social Security Office she goes back in time and gives a little background of all the jobs her mom had. The writer had a specific question and the lady had a solid answer. At the end of the passage the lady answered her question and gave her the news that she wasn’t eligible for death benefits because her mother never worked according to their records. In my opinion the thesis was in some way written throughout the whole essay when she was explaining all the jobs and task her mom actually had because at the end of the essay you don’t question the answer the Smith-Yackle answered to the lady because she simply gave the readers a background of all the jobs her mom actually did throughout her whole life. In my personal opinion I wouldn’t change the...
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