I was so moved and inspired by The Help. It was possibly one of the greatest books that I have ever read. I went into reading the book thinking that it was going to be just another piece of literature on the Civil Rights Movement, but it was much more than that. The Help encompasses all aspects of life while portraying the 1960s perfectly. It touched my heart in many ways. The first way that the book spoke to me was through my identification with one of the main characters, Skeeter. Skeeter is a young woman who aspires to be a writer. Ever since I can remember, I wanted to become an author. Instead of playing outdoors or spending the night at friends’ houses, I spent the majority of my childhood summers endlessly reading books and drafting …show more content…
However, I was still dead set on becoming an author one day, that is, until my dreams were crushed in sixth grade. Our teacher gave us an assignment to do a brochure of the occupation that we wanted to pursue. We were supposed to include the average salary, required work skills, etc. Since the wage for an author varied, I asked my teacher what I should put down for it. She snatched the paper from my hand and then proceeded to give the class and me a speech on how careers such as being an author were not attainable and that we needed to pick a reasonable career. She listed off pointless stats about the number of individuals who actually become writers or the like. That is when I gave up my decision to become a writer. She somehow managed to convince me that my dream could never happen. I rediscovered this dream as I was reading The Help. Everyone told Skeeter that her aim to become a writer was unrealistic. Her mom did not believe in her. A publisher doubted her work, and men looked at her like she was delusional. Yet, her decision to become an author did not waver. This drive that she had to accomplish her dream led her to attain greater heights than she ever thought imaginable. She wrote a successful novel, and she even received an editing job in New York. That is …show more content…
Black people were beat senseless for absolutely no reason at all. Martin Luther King, Jr. gave speeches and led marches. Medgar Evers was shot dead by the K.K.K. Blacks and whites had separate buildings, schools, and bathrooms. It all seemed surreal, but it all went down right here in Mississippi. Looking around now, I just cannot see how something so horrid as that time in our history could have ever happened. I came to the realization when I was mentoring regarding how much things have changed since then. It had just been M.L.K.’s birthday, and the first graders were completing a worksheet about him. One of the questions on it was, “What would you tell Martin Luther King if you saw him today?” A boy walked up to me confused about the question. I asked him if he knew who Martin Luther King, Jr. was, and he looked at me and nodded his head no. This little, black boy really and truly had no idea who I was talking about. He had no clue that the reason he was even going to school with his white friends was because of what MLK and many precious other individuals had done for him all those years ago. The fact that this 7-year old black boy did not know M.L.K. is not neglect on his teachers or parents part. It is a miracle. He is lucky that he can think of his white and black classmates as all the same. He is fortunate to be treated the same and given an equal education. It is an incredible thing to know
My overall evaluation of the novel is that the Help is a fabulous book and a must read! The novel is looked at by two different points of view and that helps in looking at both sides of the story. Many novels do not have this concept. Not only is the point of view written well but also how a story can tell so much about what happened only 50 years ago. The Help is a wonderful book and overall a great story.
A thick plume of black smoke and ash hung in the air in a heavy haze, almost completely obscuring the lurid red glow of the waning sun. Below, a cloud of grey plaster dust twisted and writhed amid the sea of debris as intermittent eddies of wind gusted by.
I didn’t know what happened, but worse, I didn’t know what was happening. The sounds of footsteps neared my body, but I was too hurt to react.
As the night approached, Cassie dreaded going to sleep. She had been plagued by dreams of a young man with mysterious hazel eyes. As she prepared for bed, she grabbed her old worn out blue journal full of notes about her dreams. She laid down on her small, yet cozy bed, engulfing herself in her grandmother’s tattered hand-me-down quilt. As soon as she fell asleep the dreams began.
I burst through the front door of the quiet country home, shotgun in hand as a monster of a storm let loose with a waterfall effect outside. The house itself looked abandoned, all the lights were out, and a layer of grimy dust covered everything.
I woke up one morning to the sun shining on my face through the stingy, old blinds. It was 7:40am, I had class at 8. I pulled the covers back, jumped off the top bunk and grabbed my toothbrush, than ran to the bathroom. I looked like a mess when I looked at myself in the mirror. I saw a fresh new zit staring right back at me in the mirror, I thought to myself of course, just what I need. I was stressed, I had a big test in bio that day, and I was already on a time crunch. Minute by minute kept going by and I was still trying to get all my stuff together when Madi walked in at 7:52 to walk to class with me. I wasn 't ready, I felt like my whole world was going to change because I was going to be late for my Bio test.
Approaching the tele-practice roleplay, I was hesitant, with limited knowledge of tele-practice and not being a qualified practitioner, I had little faith this would be an effective form of therapy. There was no scaffold to approach the task so my partner and I used facetime as our medium. I quickly realised the lack of physical contact was a challenging barrier, especially with the roleplay patient requiring physio for their progressive condition. This lack of intimacy made it difficult to interpret the clients’ discomfort, as I couldn’t physically manipulate the body. I found it to be a very rigid experience. Reserves I had towards tele-practice are shared among practitioners spanning out into the world of telehealth. At first sight telehealth
The Endless Maze I hadn't seen the door before. It wasn't there last night. Cautiously, I turned the handle, and pushed through. The lady was right. She had warned me about the strange habits of the house before I moved in.
The hallways always seemed to have a chill around this place. The cold, crisp, and synthetic air the roamed through the interior of the Venator Class cruiser (fig. 1) felt better than naturally produced oxygen of a planet. Too hundreds of thousands of clone soldiers, Venator Class cruisers were home. After being in countless battles, the cruiser known as The Providence had become a well-known vessel amongst the outer rim territories. This cruiser was what CT-2532 called home. CT-2532 was just his rank number, he preferred to be called Jex.
Prompt #4: Describe a place of environment where you are perfectly content. What do you do or experience there, and why is it meaningful to you? A fire strikes and soon every corner of the room ignites in flames; at least, that’s what the homely red loveseats and orange patterned carpet looks like through teary eyes on days I become particularly emotional. The dearth of décor augments the warm color theme of my therapist’s office, the only room one can either derive clarity or create more incertitude from.
It had been a succesfull raid to be sure and Booth was more than happy with his share of the spoils. He had just overseen the sale of the stolen goods and had devided the money, so that every man got an equal share. Well of course not every man. He was the Captain and it was his ship. So of course he got more than the others. It was only fair, since he endured most of the risks.
The wolf was far older than him, he perceived, its great body made by fell sorceries and dwimmercraft, a demon corrupted into wolf-shape. He felt its dark mastery and wondered if once again he would fall by the teeth of this dread-beast, as he had fallen by the fire of the Valarauco many ages ago before Beleriand was lost to the sea. It pushed its head from his grasp, and in mockery of a hound’s affection it bent and nuzzled his cheek before baring its razor-teeth. He felt them scrape against his skin and heard it speak.
“OH MY GOODNESS!” , my friend Ruby screams as we come up to my house. “What?”, I said. I ran up to where she was on the porch and saw that the front door was slightly open. I burst into my house and find everything in shambles.
Unlike Jarryd, Riley had a rather pleasant evening when she got home. She was greeted with nothing but silent of the dark house she called home. Her mother wasn't around, which meant she was off being passed around by a group of guys. Nothing for her to worry about, that woman wasn't getting mother of the year any time soon. Or ever.
The stairs creek as I forcefully make my legs go up the stairs to the door of the smith’s old farm house. The house is worn out and grey and it hides between the over grown trees and weeds that are prove of the many years that have passed. “Slow down,” whispers Hayes from behind me as he tries to bravely go in the house before me. Deep down I know he’s more scared than I’ll ever be as I see his fingers twitching as he holds the door knob. This feeling of sadness, pain and hurt hits me like an unexpected train and I can’t get rid of the anxiety bubbling within me.