Best of times, worst of times My parents had gone to my dad's work's dinner and dance and my sister had gone
Best of times, worst of times My parents had gone to my dad's work's dinner and dance and my sister had gone to the pub with some friends. I was home alone. I was sitting in the living room watching the cricket on TV, when I got a phone call: it was my sister, I couldn't understand her and then I hung up, I thought to myself that was a bit weird, but thought nothing of it. She got back about two minutes later, she said "I've been in a car crash" she said. She was with two mates, one had been in the car with her and the other had been driving behind her. Ian who was in the car with her had cuts all over his arms and a few pieces of glass in his head. Sammi rang the police to report that her car was in the hedge at the bottom of the hill on the way into Lydney from Blakeney. She also rang the insurance company, whilst I tried to get hold of my mum and dad, but they didn't answer. I saw a blue flashing light outside the window, so I went to investigate. It was an ambulance which had stopped by my sister's car in the hedge and had come to check the driver and passenger. Whilst one paramedic checked my sister for injuries the other took Ian to the ambulance to remove the broken glass from his arms and head. Whilst I was still trying to contact my parents there was a knock at the door: it was a police man, who had also come to investigate the accident. He asked her what had
In my defence I was never as good as the child my parents portrayed me to be
In my defence I was never as good as the child my parents portrayed me to be, but I wasn't as evil as the others labelled me. I was sick of monotony. I found myself doing the same things that I hated, for the same people that I hated, for the same reasons that I hated. I was so full of content for routine I couldn't be a good boy. When I was ten and I would fill the minus columns at school so that they had to make it bigger, and the only way to make it bigger was to take away from the credit column, which made no difference to me. I would be disgraced at house meetings every week for my negative contribution and would spend half my life in detention. At first this was a problem. A problem I had to solve and with only one solution. But then I realised that the solution was being dangled from a two-foot stick, which in turn was attached to my head. With the solution always in sight but never in reach I decided to give up. Then I didn't have time for this life. A minus point became irrelevant and I accepted the fact that I would never have another break time to myself. This did not bother me, in fact it was quite good, easier than doing the work in the first place and I had my evenings to myself. Detentions were no punishment for me, I wanted time out to think about my own thoughts. However this was not something I would have agreed with first thing in the morning, when the
How do the authors convey their attitude about ageing in Childhood and My Parents?
How do the authors convey their attitude about ageing in “Childhood” and “My Parents”? One of the main concerns of mankind has always been the idea of getting older and living the last years of their long lives. However time passes, and we inevitably enter the process of ageing. Nevertheless, getting closer to death also means starting the countdown of our lives: memories, feelings and thought are a constant reminder of what it has been our time on Earth. Several events that have marked our lives, such as our childhood, or maternity, now leave us fond memories. The poems "childhood" by Frances Cornford and "My parents" by Stephen spender both have a speaker looking back in the time. They constantly recall past feelings, experiences or attitudes that were considerably important for them. However, they differ significantly in many areas such as the structure, the language, the imagery, the rhyme, the repetition, the tone and the rhythm of the poem. They both make use of different literature features in other to bring out their main intentions and ideas. To begin with, the themes differ extensibly. The first poem explores a dual perspective on the ageing process. On the one hand, it is a child who watches "through the banister" and is "helplessly young", but the whole poem is a memory- "I used to think". One of the central ideas in the poem is the similarities and
Perfect Parents ?
Perfect Parents ? I was checking my emails the other day and had received an email highlighting the issues faced by single parents and it shocked me with facts such as every 1338 minutes a single parent attempts suicide and every six hours a single parent home is burgled, and it reminded me of a few films involving single parents including the 1945 classic Mildred Pierce, an outstanding film which was nominated for six Oscars and an NBR award. It won the NBR best actress award in 1945 and an Oscar for the best actress in a leading role, both for the performance of Joan Crawford which she thoroughly deserved. The email also reminded me of more recent films like Panic Room (2002) and About A Boy (2002) with both films raising the issue of single parents to the masses with the use of top Hollywood stars such as Hugh Grant and Jodie Foster. Panic Room, one of the more recent films from director David Fincher, director of other films including the classic Fight Club (1999), was a little disappointing to say the least. Although Fincher's direction of the film was up to his usual high standard, with excellent camera shots, especially his tracking, crabbing and craning shots through the house and the brilliant establishing shots, high above New York used during the opening credits, the film is let down by the somewhat stale acting of key characters including Burnham (Forest
Analysis of 'My parents kept me from children who were rough' by Stephen Harold spender
Introduction: Sir Stephen Harold spender was an English poet, novelist, and essayist who concentrated on themes of social justice and the class struggle in his work, (February 28, 1909, London- July 16 1955). Stephen spender took a keen interest in politics and declared himself to be a socialist and pacifist. This poem is about a boy who longs to be part of a group of children who he looks up to. I think the poet is writing about himself because he uses a lot of words like 'my', 'me' and 'I'. Analysis: The fist line seems to blame the Parents of the situation, and only after finishing the poem, you understand that is was actually the parents fault. In the first paragraph the poet introduces some of the things the children do. The poet writes about them throwing "Words like Stones", this indicates that the language would hurt him, it was insulting. He also writes about how they dress and take off their clothes. The children wear rags and 'torn clothes', these boys wore such torn and ragged clothes that he could actually see their thighs where the clothes were torn. "They ran in the street", as a middle class boy, his parents probably would not allow him to play in the streets. "And climbed cliffs and stripped by the country streams", these boys could go wherever they wanted, without parental supervision. This gives the idea that the children have a reckless nature, they
The Bubble Popped My parents were sitting in the basement of our house in new york.
The Bubble Popped My parents were sitting in the basement of our house in new york. No this wasn’t the type of basement you are imagining, my father and grandfather renovated it into a living quarters, with a kitchen, loft, bedroom and bathroom. they were discussing our next step, this was not to long after my second and last sister Samantha was born and keeping three kids in the same little basement was not the utopia my mother dreamt of living in at the time. so with much thought they moved to the place where they spent their honeymoon; Florida I remember my mom as a very happy person when I was growing up in New York, I attended a school two maybe three blocks down from our house in Queens and my fondest memory of it was seeing my moms bright smile waiting for me at the end of the gates after school. My mom was a very busy women though in the daytime she would be at work and other days at college which she would bring me to at times but I cannot remember it very clearly. At night she was a hardworking mother who beckoned to my every need, those of my sisters as well, but the days before our move to florida my mom was like batman without a costume, a regular person. “elementary school, hmphh... those were the days” she goes on about how when we first moved here, this is when she began real estate, how the market was booming and how money just came to her so
Mes Parents
Mes Parents En général, j'ai de bonnes relations avec mes parents. Je passe beaucoup de temps avec ma mère car on a beaucoup de choses en commun et elle me comprend assez bien. Je trouve qu'il est facile de discuter avec elle car elle est détendue et libérale. Bien sûr, de temps en temps il arrive qu'on se dispute, mais ce ne sont que des disputes à propos des tâches ménagères ou l'état de ma chambre, et ce n'est pas très serieux. Je dois dire qu'elle m'énerve quelquefois et qu'elle peut être un peu agaçante, mais en général on s'entend très bien. Je m'entends vraiment bien avec mon père aussi; la plupart du temps il est tolérant et très compréhensif. On ne passe pas beaucoup de temps ensemble, mais il m'écoute et il est toujours là pour m'aider. Quand il est occupé, ou quand il a beaucoup de travail, il est quelquefois irritable, tendu et impatient. Il peut être aussi trop protecteur, et d'habitute mes parents me laissent sortir quand je veux mais cependant il s'inquiet lorsque je rentre tard. Quelquefois je me dispute avec mon père sur de petites choses comme les émissions de télé ou parfois l'heure quand je rentre, mais en général, je suis très proche de mes parents. Ils m'écoutent si j'ai un problème et ils me traitent toujours avec respect et je pense que j'ai de la chance de les avoir. Mon Frère et Ma Soeur En général
While reflecting on my childhood, I realized that rewards and punishments were continuously used to shape my behaviour. Generally, my parents and my teachers used the strategies
While reflecting on my childhood, I realized that rewards and punishments were continuously used to shape my behaviour. Generally, my parents and my teachers used the strategies above, since they had the responsibility to educate me. In the following paragraphs, I will focus more on the application of rewards and punishments in the classroom. It is my opinion that rewards and punishments are two of the most popular teaching strategies, since they help the teacher successfully reaches his or her instructional and behavioural objectives. I believe that rewards and punishments can be a very powerful teaching tool if applied cautiously and at the right moment. Obviously, different teachers have different views in regards to the application of these strategies in the classroom. The operant conditioning model can help teachers understand why rewards and punishments are so effective and how to use these strategies in order to bring about learning. In the following paragraphs, I am going to give a brief overview of operant conditioning while at the same time discussing the use of rewards and punishment in the classroom. Two main principles of operant conditioning, as defined by Skinner, are reinforcement and punishment. First, I would like to define reinforcement. According to Skinner, each time a particular behaviour (response) is reinforced that behaviour is being
Laura was my dads first girlfriend after my parents divorce. The first three years of our relationship were characterized solely by my hatred toward her
According to Mother Teresa, “If you judge someone, you have no time to love them.” I first saw this quote when it was posted on my sixth-grade classroom wall, and I hated it. Rather, I hated Mother Teresa’s intention, but I knew that the quote’s veracity was inarguable. I felt that it was better to judge people so as not to have to love them, because some people don’t deserve a chance. Judgments are shields, and mine was impenetrable. Laura was my dad’s first girlfriend after my parents’ divorce. The first three years of our relationship were characterized solely by my hatred toward her, manifested in my hurting her, each moment hurting myself twice as much. From the moment I laid eyes on her, she was the object of my unabated hatred, not because of anything she had ever done, but because of everything she represented. I judged her to be a heartless, soulless, two-dimensional figure: she was a representation of my loneliness and pain. I left whenever she entered a room, I slammed car doors in her face. Over those three years, I took pride in the fact that I had not spoken a word to her or made eye contact with her. I treated Laura with such resentment and anger because my hate was my protection, my shield. I, accustomed to viewing her as the embodiment of my pain, was afraid to let go of the anger and hate, afraid to love the person who allowed me to hold onto
Food meant fear. When I first lost 5kg, all my friends and even my parents talked about how slim I look
Food meant fear I was a living corpse in the winter of 2010. 5:00 a.m. I switch off my alarm and get out of the bed with no hesitation at all. 5:05 a.m. laying my sports jersey on the side, I step on to the electronic scale which gives me a precise weight of 38.4kg. Sighing with relief, I grab the jersey back, slip on my running shoes and walk out of the door. 6:15 a.m. I sneak back into my room, panting a little, and close the door silently so no one wakes up. I take off all the clothes and feel enthralled to see 38.1kg on the scale. This was my daily morning routine two years ago, and I was 170 cm tall. Grown up as a second child in an Asian family, I was a girl who always strived for perfection in a hope to grab everyone’s attention. I had to be the top student in every class I took, I participated in almost every extra-curricular activity that I could fit into my schedule, and I do not even remember when was the last time I expressed anger towards anyone because I wanted to be socially ‘perfect’ as well. Such desire for excellence came to me as a burden when I went into my sophomore year. I used to never consider myself fat until one of my classmates publicly made fun of my legs that had no gaps in between. I was apparently very shocked, not because I was humiliated in front of everyone, but because I was not ‘perfect’ that no one would like me anymore. From
