Please post your personl event essay here. Remember, post it if you think it is good and would like to share it with others.
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Please post your personl event essay here. Remember, post it if you think it is good and would like to share it with others.
Please remember to include your email address.
Meeting my future
This exposition reminded me of Lincoln Road. People were everywhere. It was extremely hard to walk and even harder get to see someone you know. Maybe you could see someone ones but that is it. Is difficult, if not impossible, to see the same person twice without an arrangement. Everyone was speaking, one conversation after the other. You could almost feel part of the conversations. Music was like air, it was always there. Every type of music was heard. Everything was going terribly fast. Although you were wearing high heels like I did, you had to continue with the flow or go home. There was no time to rest and the hallways seemed as big as the Sahara desert. One meeting after the other and then the concerts. It was like going to the gym. Always running. Lucky us we had coffee everywhere. You could smell the grains turning into a delicious hot coffee. That helped us stay awake.
Even though it was hard to find someone twice it was not hard for him to find me. His name is Jehu. He saw me many times passing through, but did not find the right words to talk to me. His dark hair made a perfect combination with his tan skin and white teeth, never saw those qualities together in a person. He was even prettier than Ashton Kutcher and I am a big fan of him. His dark eyes followed me almost like chasing me. At first it was hard to concentrate around him. My first thought was ‘I am in love’, but then of course I realized I needed to actually get to know this guy. So let me tell you how this started.
His hands were sweating, his mind was working fast wondering how would I react if he talks to me. People were remarkably kind with him, he was treated with admiration. For me he was still a stranger, but that changed that day. While I was walking, I made a quick stop to answer a text message, ‘Hey, Can I give you my Cd?’ I heard. He was a musician. I did not know what to say. I thought he had made a mistake because I did not know him, but he had not. He wanted to introduce himself. He was fighting for what he wanted, showing courage and little by little his personality.
I believe love comes along when you least expected. That is what I was doing. Not expecting love. Of course at first he was a friend who I was really interested in getting to know better and when I say really I mean really! He was one of those guys that you can feel with all your senses ‘he is different’. Let me tell you a little bit more about that magnificent day that we met. At first it was weird where the conversation was going. He started with the Cd, then he wanted my phone. I thought ‘ok, we are in a business environment. I am sure he wants to do some business’. Well, he certainly wanted to do some business, just other type of business, those that last a lifetime. ‘Three zero Five’, I said and I continue with the first sentence of the rest of my life.
Something was different, but I did not know that yet. Next day I still was at this exposition. Which is called EXPOLIT. That stands for ‘Exposicion de Literatura’ it means literature exposition. Days were crazy over there. People were over stressed. Actually I am wrong when I say people. Not everyone was over stressed. Jehu was not stressed at all. In fact he was enjoying his staying in Miami and meeting a lot of new people, including me.
Time went by and here we are. After all this time my love for him had increased day by day. Every day he surprises me with something new. He fills my heart with happiness and my stomach with butterflies every time I see him, seriously every time. When I thought love was not even close, it was knocking my door. The time I met Jehu my life changed. Every day is a new challenge as in any relationship, but we passed every test. Love is not an emotion, it is a decision. I decided to love him every day and I could not have done it if it was not because of that day he decided to leave his fears on a side and come towards me. That was the day I met my future.
[Reply]
Noelle Wright
Mr. Blanco
ENC1101
14 June 2011
Wake Up Call
It’s funny how a few seconds can change the rest of your life and the way you think and view the rest of the world. That’s exactly how it was for me after my second car accident, and four days after I started driving on my own. In less than a minute I turned at an intersection and a car hit into my side. I was all by myself and so scared. This accident had and still has me feeling depressed and feeling extremely blue but I always had a shoulder to lean on. This shoulder was my mother’s and one night I decided to go talk to her about how I was feeling. From this moment on I realized that I could always count on my mother to give me the best advice and help me through really rough times.
It was about three nights after the accident and I was feeling so down I couldn’t explain the way I felt and I couldn’t understand why I felt this way. I felt like something was weighing me down. It was like someone tied an anvil to each of my feet and threw me in the deepest ocean. I felt my spirit sinking slowly and I knew if I continued this way, my mind would deteriorate as well. I couldn’t allow that to happen, so as I stood in the bath savoring the sweet, fruity scent of bar soap I decided to go talk to my mother. I don’t usually go to my mother about certain things because I always thought she wouldn’t understand and furthermore I thought she was upset about the accident. However I went and talked to her when I came out of the bath.
She was sitting up in her bed with a religious book in her hand. At five feet and slim she left a lot of space beside her on the big queen sized bed. Her hair was short and curly and I remembered the day she cut it all off. Things were a lot better at that time for both of us. She has brown eyes and still smelt like the sweet perfume she wore to church in the morning. I went and lay down beside her. Feeling the frustration even more than before, I started kicking my feet. I know it sounds like something a spoilt brat would do. Yes, it sounds very childish but in my state of mind I didn’t know what else to do.
The room light was dim and I took notice of the iron board with the clothes she planned to wear the next day well ironed out. I smelt the spray starch from her ironing and the perfume she put on earlier to go to church. I could hear the cars coming and leaving the complex through the window and the soft hum of her very small and powerful fan. The room was very cool and comfortable. Her bed which I was lying on was soft and cozy and her fleece blanket gave it an extra softness. The mood was just right for a peaceful mother, daughter talk. I explained to her that I can’t explain how I feel and I want to get rid of this feeling. She asked me about a few feelings that she knows someone would feel when faced with my problem and eventually I was able to explain how I felt. I just needed some closure and I also needed to figure out, to find deep down within myself what really happened that night of the accident.
After thinking about it for another minute or two and shared that with my mother I felt so much better. I felt like there was a weight lifted from off of me. The only thing I had to think about now was getting my car fixed and also telling the rest of my extended family. I know they’re going to say I’m careless but they don’t really know what took place that night. After I figured out why I was feeling the way I was my mother could see the great relief on my face and she hugged me up tight and kissed me on the forehead. That made me feel so much better. That how I know that you’re never too old to get a hug and kiss from your mother. That night I knew that I could count on my mother to help me through any situation and be by my side. I love my mommy.
[Reply]
Curtain Call
As kids, we all had our fantasies on what we want to be when we grow up. We wanted to be singers, athletes, even Spider-Man. I on the other hand wanted to be an actor. I wanted my name to be with greats like Marlon Brando, James Dean, and Al Pacino. I would reminisce on the day I could hear the words “Lights, Camera, Action!” As we get older, we realize that we have a slim chance of being Spider-Man; in my case, a top notch movie star. Once reality settled in, all I wished for was to be on stage at least one, even if it was a minor role. That wish finally came true and it wasn’t a minor role, it was the lead. My time to shine had finally arrived.
Let’s go back to where it all began, my middle school. My middle school never had a drama class until my eight grade year. The class was mandatory for the small graduating class of 23 students. None of us had taken any form of drama prior to the class. “The play is a comedy called Taming the Wild West in a Dress”, Ms. Roye, my drama teacher said. “The play takes place in 1895, Nevada. A young actor named Clarence Rawlings thinks that he has inherited his aunt’s saloon, but finds out it’s a salon, so he has to disguise himself as a women to make a living”, she continued. She was getting ready to announce who got the roles, although I couldn’t understand how because none of us auditioned for a part. I felt my heart beat faster than a drum as she prepared to announce who was going to play Clarence. “I’m giving the role of Clarence to the one I think is most responsible and will give one-hundred and ten percent. That is why I’m giving the role to Eddie”. I couldn’t believe it! I was finally going to get a taste of what I always dreamed of.
I spent countless hours rehearsing and memorizing my lines. I would go home and stand in front of the mirror to work on my posture and facial expressions. I even rehearsed the famous scene of Robert De Niro in Taxi Driver to entertain myself. I gave every rehearsal my all and I expected everyone one else to do the same, but things started to go downhill. A good amount of people stopped showing up for rehearsal and others weren’t memorizing there lines. My teacher was getting ready to pull the plug on the whole idea, but in the end, they all came to their senses.
I was able to smell the fresh paint as I helped set the props on stage for our dress rehearsal. I wasn’t too crazy of the idea of being in a dress, but the cast couldn’t get enough of it. I had friends shouting “Your one ugly ass girl!” to “Let me get you number!” We had some good laughs and it helped ease the stress we were feeling. We finished late that night to make sure we were completely ready for tomorrow. The moment I was looking for was just hours away.
It was a Wednesday night in March of 2006 and this was my moment. The full auditorium reminded me of when I saw an opera. Luckily, they didn’t come to hear me sing. I felt the hairs from my neck spike up as I got chills while I was getting in my position. I still remember the smell of the sandalwood aroma coming from Ms. Roye’s perfume as she gave me a hug and told me that it was my moment. The bright lights slowly touched my skin as the curtains began to open. Once I started, I was no longer nervous. I fed off the crowd’s energy as I got lost into my character. The crowd burst into laughs and applause as I came out in a dress. I left my family in awe and I knew they were proud of me. I took a deep breath with a sense of relief once the play finished. It was time for our curtain call and I waited as I saw my fellow cast members take their bows one by one. I proceeded center stage as they called my name. The auditorium erupted as I received a standing ovation. I couldn’t believe my eyes! I felt on top of the world! Although I never became a famous actor, this was sufficient. This was it; this was my moment.
[Reply]
Monocular Cues
In my life there have been many changes as I have grown up. As a kid I had to experience the worst situation in my life. It was a little bit over sixteen years ago when it happened. Since I can remember; I was a normal kid like any other from my neighborhood, without knowing that one day something would happen to me and would change my life forever. At that time I was eleven years old, and was barely starting to live. That day will always be unforgettable.Tt was a Saturday April 9 of the year 1994. Aproximally when it was getting dark between 8:00 and 8:30 pm the nightmare began. As usual at that time in Cuba there was no power light and everything was dark, which is why it was the perfect time to happen.
Because it was spring time the weather was fresh and there was a nice breeze. I was with four or five friends from the neighborhood and my brother Amehed. We talked and told stories. One of them had an iron spike in his hands like the ones welders use. He was playing with it without any bad intention. As the time passed and it was getting darker he and I run at the same time behind a black cat that was running across the street. He threw the iron spike against a wall that was on the direction we were going; it bounced back and hit me in my left eye. At that time I was very scared, because I did not have any knowledge of what had hit my eye. Although I did not feel any pain, it was very uncomfortable and I had some blood inside my eye. Right away my dad took me to the children’s hospital nearby. It took him about 30 minutes in a bicycle to get me to the hospital. Once in the hospital doctors took me into the surgery room. I remember there were a lot of bright lights in there, where they proceeded to keep my eye. Apparently everything went good. I was with treatment after the surgery in a very small room which I shared with two other patients who had a similar trauma.
I can still remember the smell of medicine, nurses coming in and out at all times. Exactly after a week of been interned the doctor removed the bandage from my eye. Cosmetically my eye was fine, it looked exactly like the other one, but, all I could see was blurred product of the blood clogs inside. After a few tests the doctor gave us the good news, I would go home next day in the morning. I was very happy. Although my happiness did not last long, that same day at night I was having the worst pain in my eye, it felt like I was getting pinched. It was too much and I could not handle it. The doctor had to inject me with morphine to relive my pain. The reason why I had pain was because of an infection, apparently provoked by the object that hit my eye, but, doctors did not use any antibiotics to prevent this.
Two days later I was getting ready for another surgery, this time to finish up everything and extract my eye; and this was without my parents consent. The good thing is that my grandma was a nurse and every time she went to the hospital to see me, she looked at the doctor’s reports. That day she read what they were planning to do to me and advised my parents to stop the process. This could be my way of thinking that God did something good for me. That day when they were taking me to the surgery room, it was early in the morning and I did not have a chance to eat anything, but, suddenly I started vomiting the previous night’s meal. This made the doctors stop the process for surgery and take me back to my room. Once there my parents confronted the doctors to work on a treatment to battle the infection and not proceed with the other plan. It took about forty days for me to get better. After having some sessions with a psychologist, I was ready to go back home. I knew that everything was going to be different.
I had to adapt to living a different life. I only had monocular vision and people always were looking at me wondering the reason why my eye looked the way it was; a blue type color with a white center product to cataracts. Today I live a normal life like anybody else, with the only exception that I cannot perform some activities such as: contact sports, fly an airplane, drive a semi truck, or serve in the military. Besides, that I am a very healthy person that tries to always go forward regardless of any problems and situations. “Big deal I lost once in life”, but I consider myself lucky to be alive. I look around and compared to me there are many people in worst situation. So it keeps me happy to know that I am able to be who I am today.
[Reply]
Daniella Navarro
Mr. Blanco
ENC1101
14 January 2010
Winning Point
The team and I got off the mustard yellow school bus, which had transported us all the way from Homestead to South Ridge. Finally after walking for about ten minutes, we entered through a set of brick red doors. The gymnasium was empty. Smelling the freshly waxed floor, I observed the court I would be playing on in the next forty five minutes. The gymnasium was rather large. There were row upon rows of black and red bleachers that were up as high as the ceiling on each side. The chairs for the teams to sit on were freshly opened and placed in a vertical line adjacent to the score keeping table. The gymnasium seemed to be taunting us as we walked through it. With every step we took, we kept seeing how nicely organized it was. The neatness of this court intimidated us all. It filled our heads with doubt within ourselves as we walked toward the guest locker room. We entered the locker room and sat between the apple red lockers.
There was tension in the air, and you could the vexation on the coach’s face. This was our last game of the season, and our season was not as good as we hoped. We needed to at least win one game this season. The time that we dreaded for came. We put on our volleyball uniforms, and our matching socks. A few minutes before going out to warm up our team captain Gaby wanted to say a few words. Gaby was not only captain, but my best friend. She was the main reason I joined volleyball in the first place and came to love the game. She was voted team captain because she was the most dependable person. I was actually the opposite of Gaby; I barely played sports and didn’t really feel confident to be captain of an entire team where everyone depended on me to do great. Gaby loved volleyball, and that made her care so much for everything that went on in practice and on games. Gaby never lost hope, although we had lost all our games. She was our strength when we needed to be strong. There in that very locker room she told us “don’t become intimidated by this team, it’s only a game”. Coach Horton agreed and told us to relax and be optimistic. Gaby then said something that I will always remember, she said “imagine this is just practice and it is only us playing on our court”. This exact moment I felt a little pressure taken off my chest. Gaby had made an excellent point. The only reason we were so nervous was because “we” had put foolish thoughts in our own heads. With that said we all left the locker room with our heads held high.
During warm up we did our usually drills and set of the starting line-up. Gaby was of course the setter in the start up, Dianely was the spiker and Jackie was the server. The other three players were to be defense and help block or get the ball. I was usually a substitute but today Coach Horton made me a starter. I felt my stomach tighten up. I had gone from being relieved to being completely nervous. I felt like I was upside down. I told myself that I was put as starter because I earned it and I couldn’t let my team down. With that in mind I lined up to start the game. During the game I received a really strong serve and hit it close to Gaby so she could set it up for Dianely to spike it. “Yes” screamed my teammates as we scored. This gave the team confidence and we kept the three-hit play going. Next thing we know were one point form winning the set. Now I was up to serve they were all counting on me to serve the ball over the net and deep enough in the back to get a chance to win the set. How could I do this? Was I capable of serving the ball well enough to score the winning point? I had lost confidence and all I could thing of was how I was going ot let down my teammate and my best friend. The referee blew his whistle; I felt the sweat from my forehead run down the right side my face as I bounced the ball and got into position. I heard the beating of my heart as I threw the ball in the air. As I watched that ball get into the right spot for me to hit it I heard Gaby say “You can do it Daniella, I believe in you”, and then I hit the ball. The ball went straight to the back far enough to fool the opposing team to think it was out but it fell right before the line. We had won the game. Everyone was counting on me, and I did it! I had scored the winning point. This changed my way of thinking; I could be a reliable person. I just had to believe in myself and I could accomplish anything. In just thirty seconds I discovered that I had what it takes to score a winning point.
[Reply]
Occasionally in your life, extraordinary events transpires that enhances a
memorable recognition for you and which illustrates you a lesson that compose one of the
central principles in your life. The event that I encountered which interpreted me a
beneficial lesson occurred the day my cousin was viciously murdered surprisingly.
It was a Thursday morning approximately three o’clock, everyone was tucked into
their beds with their alarm clocks set preparing to depart to school and work. However,
for some apparent reason my body was disturb due to the fact that I couldn’t sleep. I
begin to toss and turn until my phone began to ring. Shockingly the incoming call
assembled me that something was mythical, but I was uncertain who was calling me until
I answered. Unfortunately it was my elder brother bellowing and weeping saying “(Poon)
just got shot.” Outrageously I prompted myself to begin getting dress. Around four
o’clock in the morning, me and mother arrived at the crime scene. Throughout my
eighteen years of living this was the first incident that happened in my family were a
relative was slayed.
Upon arriving at the crime scene which appeared to be a Robbery and Homicide.
There wasn’t no prior criminal history placed on my cousin that reflected the occurrence
of this event. However, the neighborhood where the homicide took place appeared to be a
corrupt community with a excessive amount of criminal activity. The arriving officer
informed my family that there was primary a robbery that occurred that shifted into a
homicide. So the investigating officer of the crime scene began to guard and divide the
witnesses and possible suspects. Anyone who was not involved in the scene was
immediately removed with command by other officers on the scene. While departing the
scene I was able to recognize the mix emotions through the rude conversation by the ones
who disliked him and the sympathy showed by his love ones.
Later on that day my family met up to my grandma house to plan the funeral.
Through the whole grieving process I noticed that unexpected funerals can be
expensive. Planning the funeral wasn’t a easy thing. But we had the opportunity to
understand that the only element of life that is certain is death. Many of my family
members continued to weep while others were thinking about what casket to
choose. Once funeral home directors received information pertaining to my cousin death
they began to offer different services with reasonable prices. On the other hand, my
mother and great-aunt were searching for photos so that the obituary booklet can be
prepared. They were unsure of what pictures to select because they had a variety of
choices. Nevertheless, the funeral ceremony was completely arranged by the end of the
day.
On the following Saturday the funeral service was held at eleven o’clock in the
morning. As a child my grandparents always expressed that white represented peace and
joy. So I decided to wear all white apparel to symbolize my respect to my cousin. Once I
approached his bronze and gold casket I started to have flashbacks on the times we
shared. He laid in his casket with a yellow long sleeve collar short , a khaki lacoste
sweater/pants and a gold watch donated from his favorite jeweler. During the service
many poems and songs were recited. Which resulted the funeral to last two hours late.
Not all funeral services are alike, they alternate in different religions.. A passage from
the bible was read out. The excerpt theme was primarily on “life after death”. Prayers
were said to comfort my family and close friends. Since he was cremated after the service
was over everyone proceeded to my grandma house where the food was already prepared.
The death of my cousin was truly an experience I will never forget. Through this
process I comprehended that before defining death, we must know what life is.
Once you’re metabolism, reproduction, and the power of adaptation is allowed to grow
changes begin to take place within yourself. Which allows you to move on with death and
continue living life cheerfully.
[Reply]
“A Mother’s Choice”
Many people have an event in their life that changes them, gives them more strength and sets them on a new path in life. These life defining events shape us in to the people we will become, they change are way of thinking and most of the time these events aren’t planned; rather they are the phone calls that wake us up in the middle of the night, they come and hit us like a stray bullet dropping from the sky. At times they are paralyzing at first but as time passes we learn to cope and deal with are new found life. Sometimes these things are preventable, sometimes not. Sometimes they are a reaction to other people’s decisions leaving us powerless to change them.
It started around a new year, close to my 11th birthday; now I’m turning 19 on Jan. 28th. The sunrise that morning was calm, bright, and beautiful seeming like an average day but a good day. When I got home from school that day I was eager to share my day with my mom and tell her all about what I learned in school, but when I got home I could see this wasn’t shaping up for a good day any longer, my mother seem frustrated and angry. Try to give her a hug but she rejected. I asked myself; “Did I do something wrong?”But, nothing came to mind. For some reason she started packing up her clothes; I was thinking and kind of hoping we were either moving or going on a vacation. My father never really spent a lot of time at home, so it didn’t seem unusual that he wasn’t home then. Most of the time he was working to keep us fed and a shelter over our head. When he arrived that day, he seemed really tired; hands burned and bags under his eyes. The stray bullet was about to drop from the sky and hit us both. My mother gave him no rest with her shouting and complaining about him not being at home. He was tired but still trying to make her see he wasn’t staying away from home for anything but to to provide for us. The room seemed so tense and a vibe that something was very wrong filled the room like a slow gas leak, first it was in the background but its presence was becoming more and more apparent. My father told her to think twice before making a choice. Then I realized what was happening and I intruded them by telling my mother “Why leave? Isn’t love enough,Isn’t this enough, What do you want?”. She said she found someone elses, betrayal struck me, I was crushed and felt a sense of failure; at that moment tears shred down my cheeks like a flow of a river, slowly but gently and left my father speechless. She hurried quickly to head out the door. Outside, the clouds seem to have change from bright to dull and grey. The smell and the air had even changed causing a sour taste in my mouth. My father and I, followed her outside. My mother had few other things to get off her chest, she started by saying that my dad wasn’t my biological father, that I should get therapy, the chaos that seemed like it could get no worst just did, I couldn’t handle it all I felt as if my mind was going to explode, she started ranting that I needed help and should be in asylum. Then through all the craziness there was a moment were everything slowed down and seemed to get quiet, it wasn’t a peaceful quite, instead it was eerie, it was the quiet right before a car accident or a tragedy the quiet was before I saw a man cry for the first time, my father. Before this my dad seemed like the strongest man in the world, he never cried or showed much emotion; but this didn’t show me a moment a weakness, what it showed was a somber and moment full of pain. I remember the last words she said:” Your not the son I wanted, Goodbye”. Even though she was gone I was taunted by that day and the things she did and said. My Father was a mess too, he was overcome by stress and pressure of not knowing what was next. Even though things were bad and wounds were still fresh he started picking up the pieces of the mess left behind from her actions. First he surprised me with a DNA test to prove that he was my father. All though I didn’t need to see the test to know he was my father it put to rest some of the confusion brought upon from that day. I didn’t receive a call from her till months later, explaining she didn’t mean what she said, that it was all anger and nonsense. At the time I couldn’t let go of the resentment but was torn with still wanting to be part of her life. Then time went on and he made significant changes to try and maintain as much stability for me as possible.
The path that I was on was forever change from that day. Before this I was trusting, believed in happy endings, and like most kids I saw my parents in a super hero light, but that day everything changed and it led me to a path that at first wasn’t so great. To begin with, My physical appearance changed from bad eating habits and depression. I was really worried about what all this would mean and how my Dad and I would move forward. Slowly we learned to adjust and found a new normal. My dad began taking on majority of my mom’s previous responsibilities. I also was forced to grow up in some ways because my dad was trying to be both a mom and a dad to me on top of balancing work. I learned to do laundry, I started taking the bus and making myself food when I got home from school to try and alleviate some of the day to day stresses from my dad; I regularly tried to help my dad by keeping the house clean and doing well in school anything to try and pull my own weight.
From this experience I’ve learned that you should value what you have and to not put anything in front of family. Also, it showed how life could be like a roller coaster having it’s ups and down and unexpected turns along the way. Even though this wasn’t the way I would have chosen things to happen, I believe everything happens for a reason. From all of this I became more responsible, independent, and mature. I learned humility and the fact that you may not choose the cards you are dealt in life, but do choose how to play them. In fact, a lot of what happened that day pushed me to become who I am today. I’ve learned that you can’t hold on to grudges or blame yourself for other people’s decisions. My mom and I now have rebuilt are relationship in some ways, and the relationship with my Dad is incredibly strong. I’ve learned a lot about morals and character from my dad; my dad isn’t perfect I’ve seen his struggles, but I have also seen that regardless the situation he fights for us and has put my well being before his time and time again. Also, my mom leaving has taught me a lot about family, I saw how my mom walked away and how sometimes things that you think are forever aren’t; at the same time my dad showed how strong the bond of family truly is. Going forward, I think when I finally settle down and am married with kids I will really respect that scantily of family and work to teach my children the same.
[Reply]
Paulette Grant
Professor Jose Blanco
Enc 1101
January 15, 2010
The Turning Point in my Life
The agonizing pain; although, it is gone really felt like yesterday. Smells of pine wood still plague my imagination. The raging flames still frightens me and the brutal beating that follows make me tremble like a leaf against the wind. Growing up as a happy, active and carefree child I got numerous injuries. “If you play with fire you will get burn!” That was one of my mother’s favorite warning lines. I was constantly in the warm wooded kitchen watching my mother cook. My six year old sister Rosie and I would accompany her to the river to wash clothes. We would swim, jump, and splash in the refreshing cool water and enjoy the gentle breeze from the swaying bamboo trees. Climbing trees was a passion for me. I mounted the apple tree like a squirrell; bit the apples, and left them for the birds to finish. I was a very active eight year old child who was very prone to accidents. Burns, scratches, cuts and bruises were no stranger to my black sun-taned skin. I would constantly go against my mother’s command hoping that she will never find out. However I learned the true meaning of obedience, when I was severely burnt by a can of a hundred degrees boiling beeswax.
It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon. School was out because it was the beginning of a long summer holiday. “Hooraay, we don’t have to prepare for school tomorrow!’’shouted Junior. We were standing on top of the hill in front of our three bedroom house, overlooking many acres of magnificent lush green canefields. Rosie and I were busy counting the beautiful swallows gliding gracefully in uniformed motion across the sunset sky, while Junior was right next to us busy making food for the pigs on a wood fire made from pine. We quickly got tired of counting birds because there were too many, and we certainly got lost in the process. We both decided to play one last game of jump rope before dusk falls.
Even though I was the disobedient child, Rosie was the absolute mischief maker. Mom had just walked out the door, when she turned around and yelled “Junior, don’t let your sisters get near that fire!” Junior’s eyes were fixated on a big black stain on the beautiful yellow shirt that he got for his birthday two days ago. I don’t even think he heard what mom said; nevertheless she continued down the steep hill. Rosie went inside the house to give dad some drinking water, and quickly stormed out with a guilty look on her face. “Look she whispered, I got some beeswax, lets melt it on the fire.” “Sounds like a good idea,” I replied in a low voice.
I did not want dad to know what was going on, so I quickly sneaked into the kitchen gently tip toeing all the way. I picked up a sardine container from the trash. It had a sharp edged lid still clinging to the side. I dashed outside. “Let us do it!” I said. I snatched the beeswax away form Rosie and placed it in the sardine can. I was very anxious to see it melts, but Rose was very excited. “I think that is how they make honey she said!” Junior was away feeding the pigs and so I placed the can with the beeswax on the fire.
My anxiety was heightened. “Look!” said Rosie, “the beeswax is melting, I told you that’s how they made honey!”Suddenly I heard a popping sound and the entire sardine can was engulfed in flames. I began to panic. “Here!” said Rose handing me an old mop stick which I quickly used to knock the sardine can off the fire and the flames slowly subsided.
“What was that popping sound?” asked Junior, who had just came back from feeding the pigs. “Paulette tried to melt some beeswax, but the sardine can caught fire,” said Rosie, in a nervous and emotional tone of voice. “You brought the beeswax!’’ I shouted “but you put in on the fire!” yelled Rosie. “Shut up!” Junior yelled at both of us, “remember that dad is inside and if he knows what you are doing you will be in deep trouble.” “Let me see what you did,” said Junior as he lowered his voice.
Surprisingly Junior refreshed the fire wood and replaced the beeswax on the fire. Seconds later, the sardine can was once again on fire. The flames of the pinewood were raging furiouly. The fire on the beeswax was getting out of control and Junior was in a state of shock. I was extremely fearful and Rosie was crying, “stop the fire! Please stop the fire!” “Move away from here!” Junior yelled at us. He immediately grabbed the mop stick and knock the sardine can to the ground. The fire continued to rage. “I said move!” he yelled a second time. I was in total panic. I tried to run to the opposite site, but Junior had already tossed the bundle of fire and it landed on the forefront of my right leg. I jumped, I screamed and I yelled; rubbing my leg in excruciating pain. The skin on the forefront of my leg instantly disappeared and I could feel the fire melting through my flesh like butter in a hot pan. Dad heard the commotion and he dashed out of the house. “What are you doing with fire!” he shouted. He grabbed a twisted leather belt and lashed Junior and I in the most vicious way. Rosie was sobbing bitterly under the bed. Luckily she escaped the horrific beatings. My body was tattooed with multiple welts from the terrible beating, and I was left with a massive scar that will undoubtedly live with me for the rest of my life. Although I was only eight years old, I learned my lesson the hard way. Children obey your parents in the lord for this is right [Ephesians 6:1].They may not always be correct; however, it is better to be safe than sorry.
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Minimum Wage Rates Advantages and Disadvantages.
In this tough economic times minimum wage is a huge discussion. Minimum wage has advantages and disadvantage depending on the side of the row you stand. In case of the employee I could say it is not in his favor to be tied to a minimum wage, and the employer should not use the minimum wage law in their advantage. Minimum wage should change in pace with inflation. Minimum wage should have an adequate time frame. Many things could we discuss around this topic but in my presentation I will only talk about these three.
I remembered in 1983 when I came to this country Ronald Reagan was the president. He kept the minimum wages frozen in all his 8 years he was the president. The minimum was $3.35 per hour. My employer kept me with the same rate of pay for two years and a half. Even though I worked in different department with different responsibilities my rate of pay never increased. Only God knows how many people were in the same situation. Just because the minimum wages were $3.35, this does not mean that this is going to be your salary for ever. The employer should pay according to employees’ performance on the job, seniority, behavior, etc. Business owners should be aware that while you are working taking care of their business; he should take care of his or her employees as well. In my current job I noticed that one of the employees, who have work for the company for 14 year, was getting pay the minimum wage. Her rate was increased since the minimum wage pay was rising, but she was still getting the minimum wage after 14 years working for this company which has sales in the seven figures. Times are not the same anymore and thinking about inflation takes me to the next topic.
Remember when the price of a Coca Cola was .05 cents. Some of us can not even remember that time because we were not alive yet. The minimum wage was kept at $3.35 from 1980 to 1988 but the price of food, gas; cloth, etc kept going up. In 1983 the price of gas was 0.85 cent per gallon a Toyota Corolla was $10,000 in 1986. For more detail information I am attaching a table at the end of the page that give us an explanation of how much our rate of pay worth. It is very interesting how our dollar is worth less and less since 1995 till now. Our minimum wage even though is higher than in 1983 we could afford less. In 1983 the $3.35 was worth $5.28. In 2007 $5.85 was worth $4.21. I do not even want to know much is worth the $7.25. The only thing I know is that the gas price per gallon is $3.13. If we compare it with the $3.35 wage in 1983 and the gas price per gallon at 0.85 cent we can clearly establish that the minimum wage rate is not in pace with inflation.
The employer should be regulated on the time frame they keep the employees on minimum wage rate. The government regulates who should pay sales taxes, federal taxes, payroll taxes, who carries workers compensation, etc but who protect employees from being paid the minimum wage for fourteen years. Usually a company hires people who understand the job and with a minimum training which could last a week or two the employee is then set to perform the job. Them the employer should follow through and evaluate the job from time to time to see if it gets done how it is suppose to be done. Then the employer should also increase the employees salary in a time frame is according to the job performed. If you keep an employee for certain amount of time is because the employee is doing his or her job well done. Sometimes the employer takes advantage of the minimum wage law and does not raise employee’s salary to avoid paying more payroll taxes, more workers compensation premium etc.
I do not know how it works in other parts of the country but in my research for this paper I notice that minimum wages in other states are even lower than the federal minimum wage. The Fair Labor Standard Act sets the basic minimum wage pay standards. More information on this topic could be found on the web of Department of Labor http://www.dol.gov Minimum wage rates has many advantages and disadvantages all depend on who side of the desk you are sitting, depend of if your are the employee or the employer. Point is if minimum wage pay continues to decrease in value America has a problem.
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The Last Day
Adrenaline junkies…they search for the biggest thrill—how close can they come to death then be able to laugh in its face? These people are like a cult…trekking all over the world in search of the next challenge. I wonder how they would deal with every day holding that next big thrill, except, you never know when to expect it, nor will you know if you will definitely survive. That, my friend, is the life of an abused child…waking every day, hoping, and praying that it will not be your last. For the first thirteen years of my life, I lived in constant fear, one that still wakes me at two in the morning with nightmares. For the first thirteen years of my life, I was my father’s punching bag.
My father…a man who’s face can be found in the dictionary next to the words “bi-polar”, and. From years of work in the hot, blazing sun, my dad’s face was tanned and weathered, like a hide hanging in hopes of becoming leather. And when he was after me, the character lines around his eyes would deepen into a scowl, not the smiles that I prayed for. His eyes would burn with the fury of a CAT 5 hurricane as he spit words of fire into my face. His anger was a train with its break lines cut-I could never even try to stop him. With his Green Beret training, and flashbacks of Vietnam, a quick snap of his wrist could break my arm…he was not a man I’d ever want to meet in a dark alley, let alone come home to every day. But when Daddy smiled, it was like that beautiful moment when the night-time fog is rising to meet the morning sun-almost a blessing to start the day happy. Those smiles were few, and far between, and most of the time, they were for show. Only I knew and felt the storm that constantly brewed inside him.
September 18, 1998…a brisk and beautiful fall day, by Pennsylvania standards. As I trudged through the tall grass on the hill next to our beautiful stone house, my stomach dropped. Glancing up, I saw my father’s 1998 red and white Ford diesel truck parked in the driveway (the sound and sight of a truck like that still makes me want to run and hide). A strange numbness ran down my legs, and a small voice inside said “this is it…today is your last”. Silent tears began to fall, and I could not stop them.
It would be easier to handle if he drank, and that’s what caused the pain. But even from a distance, a look from him could burn a hole in my heart, as his eyes spoke of the hate he held in his heart. All my life, I just wanted him to love me; all my life, I never had that hope answered.
That fateful day in September…well, it was nearly my last. As I continued to walk through the grass, I watched the end of the driveway, praying for my step-mother or her son to pull in. As I neared the house, my father stepped outside…one look, and I just knew that I was in for it. I don’t know what I did to anger him that day…maybe there was something and maybe not. I may never fully remember the exact details of his reasoning that day.
The first punch landed on my right jaw, as soon as we stepped into the laundry room from the garage. It felt like a cinder block…and the many that followed felt no better. After a while, you get used to it, and block it out…sending yourself somewhere safe. In my mind, I was at my grandma’s house, licking the bowl of cake batter. Suddenly, I was drawn back to the moment, as I was lifted off the floor…by my throat. He slammed me against the upper kitchen cabinets, his eyes red with hatred and disgust. Through a clenched jaw, he told me he didn’t want me…he told me to leave. As I gulped for air, feeling the life leave me, I remember thinking “This is it…goodbye”.
Perhaps in a moment of mercy, I was dropped to the floor…he exited the room through the door to the right. The door to the left led outside. With no second thought, I bolted, towards the back door. And I ran…I ran as far and as fast as I could, until I felt a bullet whiz by my ear. I dropped to the ground, screaming and praying for my life. I was being hunted! I heard his footsteps come near…I vomited. As I dared to look up, he spoke only four words and the sweetest ones he ever uttered-”I’m done with you”.
The next day, I was dropped off at my mom’s house, and my father was gone from my life. Yet, my memories torture me to this day. I almost died that day…and that day, I was almost hoping to.
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Jose Blanco Reply:
April 4th, 2011 at 9:10 am
The high quality of your writing always comes through, even in a strong, disturbing essay.
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Kirstin Barrett Reply:
April 5th, 2011 at 8:53 am
@Jose Blanco,
Thanks Mr. Blanco. I miss school…did you ever get my e-mail about surgery and such? Was going to try to come see you…let me know your office schedule, please? Take care!
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