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A good descriptive essay
Descriptive Essay
Essay on urbanisation of poverty
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Being raised in a small town lower classed city called Cleveland Texas, my goal was to make it out of the rural area. The blue house is what I called my childhood home, even though most of the blue paint was chipped off and you mostly seen wood with a few areas of chipped blue paint. Before, getting to the house you had to go about a half mile down a red dirt clay road before getting to what looked like a small blue shake. Living in the home was a total of ten people, which included myself, mother, father, three siblings and three older cousins that stayed with us at the time. There were three small bedroom that did not include any type of closet, a full sized bed, and two dressers with a small TV with the fat back attached to it. It also had …show more content…
In the city there was nothing more than H-E-B, Walmart, Brookshire Brothers, Jack-In-The Box, Taco Bell, Whataburger and a Ford car dealership, this basically made up the town besides a few churches, two parks, empty buildings, and either burned down house or foreclosed house. The only happiness I found in Cleveland was the park that was within walking distance of my house. Everyone from my side of the track which were mostly lower classed African Americans, everybody and they families came to the park around five o’clock into ten sometimes even eleven o’clock ever Sunday night. There were lots of open space considering our park only had a rusty swing set, a full sized basketball court which had no nets and one of the goals that had no rim at all. There was also a large felid which appeared to be a baseball felid, judging by the old faded white chalk base marks and the rusty wood belchers behind the half silver wire gate. Sunday was like a big outside gathering where you had got to see everyone. It was almost like a high school lunch with all the different groups of people speared into groups of male, female, couples and of course the kids of all different ages. For a place with so little it was filed with nothing but joy and love on Sunday
family was they had three-rooms which were placed on a hill facing the "Big House". The
Most people who grow up in Cincinnati cant wait to get out, but once they leave they can’t wait to come back because there is no other place like it. It has the small town “homey” feeling everybody grows to love, along with big city options that are easily accessible. Nobody ever wants to come to Cincinnati, but once they do, they realize how special it is, regardless of the territory. Its unique structure comes as surprise, yet, joyous experience and that’s what makes it special. East or West, North or South Who-Dey baby!
The materials used for the house are inexpensive, in keeping with the surrounding structures. One section is made of concrete blocks, exposed on the inside and covered with waterproofing paint on the outside. The other part of the house is “sheathed in plywood and battens and its roof is covered in asphalt shingle.” The floors are painted pine, the interior partitions, painted plywood. The total cost of the house was $102,000, only $2,000 over the budget that the Reids had set. They wanted the house built because they wanted to move their two small children out of a trailer home, and they wanted to have a larger space in which they could manage their 120-acre horse farm. The total area of the house is only 1600 sq. ft. One author noted that the house “[reconciles] lofty aspirations and modest means.”
I was born and raised in Chicago, Illinois. I lived in a very welcoming neighborhood. As a child, I had many friends on my street. We would ride bikes, climb trees, visit the playground at the local park district, and stay outside until the streetlights turned on. The families on my street always looked out for each other, so we didn't worry too much about safety. All of my friends attended the same school and participated in the Chicago Park District's activities such as Boy Scouts, Girl Scouts, music and dance lessons, and open gym events. The park district hosted an annual gym show so the kids could perform for their families. Residents would get together on most Sundays to talk about issues in the neighborhood and share meals and stories.
The loss of community was acutely felt by the former Buffalo Creek residents, who had previously been a very tight knit people. This was demonstrated by the fact that post-disaster euphoria was completely absent after the flood. Usually this euphoria arises when the survivors realize that the community is still existent and alive. However in Buffalo Creek there was not a shred of community left to cause celebration. This was due in part to HUD’s housing regulations that not only worsened the feeling of isolation, but also because of the massive destruction caused by the flood itself. After the sudden and violent incident the pain of the survivors would continue far into their future. The chronic pain and suffering resulting from the loss of community and the effects of it on would linger for years.
Growing up in Vacaville, nestled between the cities of San Francisco and Sacramento in Northern California you got to enjoy the beauty of the outdoors and the creatures that live within it. That mixed with a growing city, new stores and homes being built every year you got a bit of both country living and city life. From cows, and turkeys to deer and geese if you grew up in Vacaville seeing these were a regular occurence. I never did cow tip but I did get the pleasure of seeing a herd of cows break through a fence and block a main road setting traffic back for hours.
The city owner examined his newly purchased city and was pleased, but began making changes: “What a nice little city, it suits me fine. It suited me fine so I started to change it.” (Barthelme, 1974, p. 51) He made all of the citizens move out of their stately homes and proceeded to tear them all down. After doing this, he sought out advice from a citizen named Bill Caulfield to gain some insight on what they desired their future homes to look like. One of Bill’s requests was that he desired more privacy in the new structured homes. To ensure that his idea was as transparent as possible he showed the city owner a Mona Lisa jigsaw puzzle. The city owner didn’t have any personal ideas for the new housing so he copied Bill’s concept of the jigsaw puzzle and used it as a blue
The ruckus from the bottom of the truck is unbearable, because of the noise and excessive shaking. As we slowly climbed the mountain road to reach our lovely cabin, it seemed almost impossible to reach the top, but every time we reached it safely. The rocks and deep potholes shook the truck and the people in it, like a paint mixer. Every window in the truck was rolled down so we could have some leverage to hold on and not loose our grip we needed so greatly. The fresh clean mountain air entered the truck; it smelt as if we were lost: nowhere close to home. It was a feeling of relief to get away from all the problems at home. The road was deeply covered with huge pines and baby aspen trees. Closely examining the surrounding, it looks as if it did the last time we were up here.
Growing up in a massive neighborhood magnificent. My neighborhood flooded with kids around my age to hang out with. Occupying the edge of this neighborhood was a large park where the neighborhood’s kids and I would spend most of our time eliminating their boredom. When this park would not satisfy our needs, there were
When I think back to the days when I was a child, I think about all of my wonderful childhood memories. Often I wish to go back, back to that point in life when everything seemed simpler. Sometimes I think about it too much, knowing I cannot return. Yet there is still one place I can count on to take me back to that state of mind, my grandparent’s house and the land I love so much.
The house was old. My grandmother lived in it most of her life. The house was
The familiar smell of soft cookies and homemade cooking are common thoughts when people think about their grandma's house. Great feasts and family gatherings play a part in everyone's grandmother's home. But when I really think about my grandma's house only one word comes to my mind: fun.
there is a tall fig plant that gives the room a feeling of life. On
“Home is where love resides, memories are created, friends always belong, and laughter never ends (Robot check).” A place becomes a home for me when I am around all the things that I enjoy and love. For example, when I am around everyone that I love, I enjoy a peaceful environment and the beautiful landscapes around me. The interpretation of home for me is not a physical thing that I see or that I can remember or even certain thoughts that I can relate, but it is a sensation that overcomes me when I envision being in the comfort of my own home. However, I know that this is a feeling that is calming to my soul and it quietly reassures me that I genuinely belong in a place where I can be free from people constantly judging me.
As I approach the island on which my dream house awaits, I catch a quick