Throughout Marley’s life she was always a girl who loved to travel. When Marley Banks was eight years old, a television commercial came on. Tropical music vibrantly played throughout the room, making her turn away from her dolls and watch the advertisement. “Come to the Caribbean!” the advertisement projected. Mesmerized by the lapping waves and gold sand, it was her dream to sink her feet in it. When she was old enough, she got a job and worked with continuous effort to save enough money.
March 25, 2001, Marley was on a plane to her paradise. “I’m so excited,” she commented to the man sitting next to her. He only stared at her in annoyance, trying to fall asleep. “I’ve always wanted to come her since I as a little kid,” she added, “why are you coming here?” he returned her question with a glare and growled “Please stop talking.” Marley was silent and looked towards the front of the plane. A little while later she was fast asleep at ten at night, dreaming of a younger girl playing in the sand at the park, while her parents watched. Out of the blue, a jolt into the seat ahead thrust her out of her escape from reality. Sirens blared throughout the cabin, causing worry- everything erupted into chaos. Peeking out of her window, she saw the world in a slanted angel with smoke trailing behind the jet engine.
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Now, people realized that the plane descending to fast and too early, majority released blood curdling screams. Spiraling towards the ground, people including herself silently prayed that they would somehow, someway, survive this. Anticipation for the end consumed everyone’s hearts; quiet whimpers, clammy hands, damp cheeks, and weighted chests. Frozen with shock, she could only hope for what is to come. Her life flashed before her eyes the second impact was made, and everything snapped dark with one last thought floating in her mind “I want to see paradise.” As Marley opened her sand caked eyes, she saw the remaining people walk along the sand for their belongings and loved ones. Slowly but surely, she sat upright and made an attempt to stand up, but collapsed in pain. Slashed along her leg, where hundreds of metal shards splintering her leg. Buried in the sand an arm’s length away laid a capsule of sleeping medication. She stretched and grabbed it, swallowing the remaining pills inside. A half hour later, she was looking up towards the colorful oranges and reds radiating from the sun, and passed out. A day or two later, she awoke with crowds of people surrounding her with medical supplies. “That was a stupid thing to do,” one woman blustered. Marley had no recollection of what happened to her during her absence in the mind, but she looked down at her leg and it was bandaged up. “Thank you,” Marley murmured. “We were gathering supplies for you and we come over to you passed out!” the woman complained. Marley went into the depths of her mind and realized then that she was so prepared to make the trip short, because she though no one was there to help her. She thought of the worst outcome without attempting to fix the situation. “I’m sorry, what can I do to help out around here?” she asked. People around her boasted they had everything under control, and all she had to do was rest until help arrived. Helicopters landed, making the sand flourish in the air.
They immediately came to her aid, and said everything was going to be okay while they injected an IV. She awoke to anesthetics burning her nostrils with the color of white blinding her. She sat up dizzily and looked at her legs covered by the bed sheet. Half of her leg wasn’t visible through the thin sheet. Her stomach dropped when she reached to feel her leg, and nothing was there. A cry pierced the room and Marley laid back on the bed with tears dripping down her cheeks. How could she go on? She wouldn’t be the same after her experience. “You’re a strong girl,’ the nurse commented as if reading my
thoughts. I was back in the hospital after a few weeks to try on my artificial leg that came in the mail. Pressure pinched the end of her stump and they put it on. My mother and a nurse gripped my arms tightly as I moved to stand up. Slowly but surely, I put my foot one after the other, and went on with my life accomplished.
The ocean is what connects the people of the Caribbean to their African descendants in and out of time. Through the water they made it to their respective islands, and they, personally, crafted it to be temporal and made it a point of reference. The ocean is without time, and a speaker of many languages, with respect to Natasha Omise’eke Tinsley’s Black Atlantic, Queer Atlantic. The multilingualism of the ocean is reminiscent that there is no one Caribbean experience. The importance of it indicates that the Afro-Caribbean identity is most salient through spirituality. It should come to no surprise that Erzulie, a Haitian loa, is a significant part of the migration of bodies in Ana Maurine Lara’s Erzulie’s Skirt. Ana Maurine Lara’s depiction
Now that the summary is out there for all who did not get to read the story let’s make some connections to everyday life. In the story is it said by the author that, “All the while I hated myself for having wept before the needle went in, convinced that the nurse and my mother we...
Beryl Markham’s West with the Night is a collection of anecdotes surrounding her early life growing up as a white girl in British imperialist Africa, leading up to and through her flight across the Atlantic Ocean from East to West, which made her the first woman to do so successfully. Throughout this memoir, Markham exhibits an ache for discovery, travel, and challenge. She never stays in one place for very long and cannot bear the boredom of a stagnant lifestyle. One of the most iconic statements that Beryl Markham makes in West with the Night is:
In part fictional and part autobiographical novel “A Small Place” published in 1988, Jamaica Kincaid offers a commentary on how the tenets of white superiority and ignorance seem to emerge naturally from white tourists. She establishes this by using the nameless “you” depicted in the story to elucidate the thoughts they have when visiting such formerly colonized islands. This inner mentality of the white tourists reveals how tourism is still a form of oppression for the natives of such formerly colonized tourists as it continues to exploit them. I will be focusing primarily on page 10 of the text to illustrate this.
Every year thousands of tourists visit the islands of Antigua, they come from all over the world to drain their sorrows of reality by ridding their pockets of the cash they strive to work so hard for. Although Antigua seems to be filled with relaxation, sunshine and rainbows, and devoid of anything that could ruin somebody’s week, unfortunately, Antigua is quite the opposite of that of what we imagine. Author Jamaica Kincaid argues this false reality tourists imagine about the island, by addressing many issues she witnessed while growing up in Antigua.
I had just walked into Annie’s room to find her screaming in pain. I ran to find the supervising nurse and rushed back to comfort Annie. Shortly after, the nurse came, fed Annie her medications, and walked out. Not a word was said. But I knew Annie was afraid, confused, upset; managing deep pain in her body. I knew she did not want to be alone, so I stayed beside her for a while, holding her hand until she fell asleep, telling her she would be okay. ================
The Life of Bob Marley While reading Catch a Fire I discovered many things about Bob Marley and his spiritual influence on the world. Not only just making records, Marley spoke to his people through his songs and took advantage of the opportunities given to him as a musician. Born on February 6, 1945, Robert Nesta Marley grew up in a small village in Jamaica called Nine Miles, where he would shape his personality and early beliefs. His father Norval Marley, a white Jamaican and a Captain in the Army, would also become inspirational to young Bob. When Bob was only 16 he produced his first record in Kingston, and in 1963 the original Wailers were formed, a group consisting of Bob Marley, Bunny Livingstone and Peter Tosh.
Although I have had my fair share of unfair experiences in my life, I strongly feel it is important to not dwell on anything or feel bitter towards anyone when faced with adversity. One of my favorite quotes is from the Bob Marley song "Three Little Birds": "Don't worry about a thing, because every little thing is going to be alright." Not every situation I face in my life will be fair, and I accept that. Whenever I am placed in a conflict with another person, I attempt to solve it with them. However, I acknowledge that not every dispute has a clear resolution. In these cases, I think of Bob Marley. I generally have a righteous problem-solving approach, and "Three Little Birds" helps me stay positive when dealing with
“Get the doc now!” Mother shrieked. Bump, crash, bang, the stretcher carried my lifeless body down a populous hall. “Get and I-V now! Heart beats are slowing, we may need resuscitation, get me the shocks now!” “Oh my lord, no please don’t take my boy lord! Not now…” My mom snuffled. *Whimpers and cries”
I have never considered that a book about a dog could be so appealing and full of deep thoughts. But I changed my viewpoint after reading the autobiographical novel “Marley & Me” written by John Grogan which depicts an astonishing story about the neurotic and loyal, clumsy and loving dog named Marley. In fact, as the author mentioned in some interviews, he intended to write the “dog story”, but soon after he realized that it was impossible to do so without including the family life [2]. That is why the title “Marley & Me” encapsulates the main topic of the book such as the relationship between a human and a pet. To start with let me introduce main characters: John, Jenny, and Marley.
Bob Marley is the most well-known Reggae musician. He did many great things throughout his life. Bob Marley had messages in his song lyrics and did whatever it took for them to be heard. He also helped and inspired many of his fans, as well as his family. He was also one of the few people that helped start a new genre of music and a new band that sang it. Bob’s songs, and the story behind them, is what effected society. Bob Marley had a tough life but he still managed to become one of the most famous musicians ever. Bob Marley was an idol to many people because of the messages he expressed through his songs and how he did whatever it took to get those messages out, the fact that his songs helped people, and how he helped start a new genre of music.
It was a cold October afternoon in 1996, and I raced down the stairs and out the front door, in an attempt to avoid my mother's questions of where I was going, with whom, and when I'd be back. I saw my friend Kolin pull up in his rusted, broken-down gray van, and the side door opened as Mark jumped out and motioned for me to come. I was just about to get in when my mother called from the front doorway. She wanted to talk to me, but I didn't want to talk to her, so I hopped in pretending I hadn't heard her and told Kolin to drive off.
Marley was born into Jamaica’s poverty and it is where he developed a strong love of reggae and became a Rastafari. Reggae, evolved from another musical style called Ska in the late 1960’s, is considered the voice of the ‘oppressed’ peoples. Many reggae lyrics are politicalised and centre on themes of freedom and fighting for it. (Cooper, 2014)
I wake up in this room. My mother is to my left crying with her face in the palms of her hands. My dad, he paces the floor with his hands in his pockets. I am scared I can barely remember what has transpired. As my mother stands and looks at me square in the eyes, the nurse comes and says with a grin on her radiant face “Hello, Mr. Howard. How are you feeling?” I attempt to sit up, but my body is aching. My dad hurries over to help, but it was no use the pain was overbearing. I began to weep and apologize. My dad with a stern look on his face says, “Andra, you are fine now just relax”. How could I relax? I am stuck in this room with no memory of what happened.
The teachers come, a large man begins CPR while the girl remains benevolent, in a matronly position, kneeling and cradling Al’s head in the cushion of her palms. Through it all she does not look up, even when spurts of blood from Al’s mouth reach her face and eyes, that blood built up within his orifice gurgling and geysering with each push of the teacher’s fists into his lungs. She does not turn from her grisly heroic task, though her arms shake from restraining and then supporting Al’s head, as she calmly reassures others that it will be all right. After seeing Al safely away with the EMTs, she takes only a few moments to collect herself, then, claiming no credit...