Four boys stood above me on a pile of garbage. Their words, "Bota, bota, matava" — "chubby", "fatty" suffocated me:
A familiar sensation of frustration and hurt gripped me. Looking for defense I only saw a cinderblock at my feet, impossible for my eight year old body to heave, so, I screamed in English:
"You are just jealous that you are poor and I am American!"
As the words flew out of my mouth, I knew I was wrong — there was no sense of triumphant satisfaction. I abruptly turned and ran into the refuge of my aunt's home.
Upon finishing a tearful narrative to my aunt and father, I preferred the comfort of the former's arms. I avoided my father's disappointment: I knew as well as he did, that I was not the victim.ater, my hysteria subdued and guilt temporarily forgotten, I ventured outside to explore the crevices of Antananarivo. The boys were still playing atop the rubbish, then seeing me,
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As I began walking up the street, I heard shouts:
"Wait, wait!"
The boys caught up to me and proudly waved hundred ariary bills in my face. In their broken English, they said in earnest and without malice,"Look! We are not poor! We have money! We are Amreekan too!"
I agreed they were right and smiled sadly: one US dollar was the equivalent to seven thousand Malagasy ariary.
I was made sharply aware of what separated me from these children: oceans, experience, money. Politics, ignorance, the apathy of millions. Ironically, it was also the first time I belonged to my "motherland". I could share in the simple joy of relishing what "is", be proud of the sense of resourcefulness engendered by scarcity.
This memory has woven itself into my philosophy and my dreams. The very personal knowledge that millions live in a way such that electric toothbrushes are an unfathomable luxury (my cousin, Aina), has given me the following personal rules:
Education is an opportunity, not a burden;
You always have enough to
In the poem “The Double Play”, the author uses metaphors, words, and phrases to suggest turning a double play in baseball is like a dance. Some words throughout the poem could be used to connect the idea of a double play being like dancing. One word that could suggest this is, the word used “poised”, “Its flight to the running poised second baseman” (12). Poised in this sense could mean that the player knows what he is doing and has mastered the double play, while a dancer can be poised meaning light and graceful. Another word in this poem that relate to a double play and dancing is the term “pirouettes”, “Pirouettes / leaping, above the slide, to throw” (13-14). The player is described to be doing a pirouette in the double play while in the
I packed my things into a small U-Haul. We were leaving the town I had always known, Houston, to go someplace I barely knew, a small town named Navasota. We moved when I was four because my parents wanted us to experience a small town like they had grown up in. Would I find new friends? Would the people there like me?
consequences. A few places that I am going to discuss how disrespect affects them and the
Hatfield , Heather , and Alfred D. Wyatt . "Electric Toothbrushes: Are They for You?." WebMD. WebMD, n.d. Web. 28 Apr. 2014. .
Dramatic Monologues The dramatic monologue features a speaker talking to a silent listener about a dramatic event or experience. The use of this technique affords the reader an intimate knowledge of the speaker's changing thoughts and feelings. In a sense, the poet brings the reader inside the mind of the speaker. (Glenn Everett online) Like a sculpturer pressing clay to form a man, a writer can create a persona with words. Every stroke of his hand becomes his or her own style, slowly creating this stone image.
Jackie Kranz Ms. Sentner Period 5 October 17, 2017 Ava & Lily Lily - I was bored. I had something to eat, watched some television, played with my Nintendo, did my homework, and it was still only eight o’ clock. My friend Ariel was out, and I sat looking at the goldfish swimming around their tank, wondering what I could do. Then the telephone rang, and my life changed forever.
Hi Melinda. I am excited to see another small town Texas girl in class. Have you always lived in a small town? We moved here from Round Rock eleven years ago. I love it. I get how busy it is to work full time and be a single mom. My husband and I separated two years ago next month. Most of the time it is me and my gang of seven blessings. It doesn’t leave much time for extras. I will definitely be keeping you in my prayers.
In the wee hours of the morning time moved like dripping tar. The saturnine darkness slinked into every fissure, every crevice of the old theater corrupting all that it touched. A lonesome stage stood waiting for an actor, a comedian, a singer, or any artist to once again use its firm platform to entertain a new. Long had the theater lay dormant. Too many years had passed since the last play had worked its magic for an enthralled audience. Without warning the sound of sobbing broke the quiet of night. Beneath the stage a wretched man lay captive within a small cell. His hair matted, his face dirty and unshaven, his eyes were blood shot from endless tears. And then he jumped like an animal to cling from the bars. He tossed his head back to howl
"Father,what were you thinking?!" I stood in the doorway of his study furious."Do you believe that what you did today was even in the slightest bit of humane?"
On November 08 approximately 2000 Victor Dejesus called me to inform me that my daughter Judyann Gonzalez was not at home since early that morning. About an hour later 2100 Judyann Gonzalez called me to let me know that she was with a friend and her husband all day and she was on her way home at that moment. I called Victor Dejesus to let him know the she called me and she was on her way home. Monday November 09, 2015 at approximately 1847 again Victor Dejesus called and stated that my daughter Judyann again left the house early Monday morning. I called my daughter without any responded and I left her a message in her voice mail.
I could not stop thinking about what my mother had just told me. Was it true? Do some kids not have enough clothes? Do their parents have to wash their clothes every day? If they don’t have clothes do they have shoes? Or Toys? So many questions were racing through my head, but I decided not to ask. Once we arrived at Mexico, I began looking around. For once, I paid attention to what the other kids were wearing. Walking down the narrow street, I saw a boy younger than me who had a hole in his shirt and shoes that were coming apart. I remember noticing how happy he seemed. He wasn’t concerned about what he
The lights dimmed and as I blinked to focus, a hand reached through the darkness and nudged me forward. My stomach dropped and my mind went blank. Then the fluorescents blazed, the music began, and my feet started to move as if I was in a trance. I was not a small, goofy six-year-old but an elegant ballerina. My arms hit every pose, my feet precisely placed in every combination, and my little face full of glee.
The street is packed, with loads of fans in every direction who are very excited to see the casts make their way down the carpet towards the entrance of the theatre. Tonight is the premiere night of Natalie’s movie, and Caleb is pretty much excited. The cast have arrived, and Caleb pushes his self through the crowd, trying to get a better view of the stars. Thanks to his height, he sees Natalie walking down the carpet in her red sophisticated gown that flows beautifully down to her ankles. He can’t take his eyes off her.
I’ve always enjoyed pretending to be someone I’m not. When I was younger, I wasn’t confident; I was afraid to be myself, so I used acting as an escape. Since the sixth grade, I’ve been heavily involved with my school’s various drama clubs and their productions. I was always happy to be on the stage; it never mattered to me if I was the lead or in the chorus as long as I was able to participate. Over the years, theatre has played a large role in shaping who I am today.
“Well, move a country girl to a big city and there’s bound to be some changes.” I shrugged. “Anyway, I better get going. I’ve got a few things to do.” And by a few things, I mean go to my apartment and cry into a tub of ice cream until I eventually fall asleep. I smiled down at Eryx and waved a little before looking back to Dylan. “I guess I’ll be seeing you around.” I said quietly and turned to walk back to my car. Just like the first time I started walking away from him, Dylan’s voice stopped me.