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American history 1880-1940
American history 1880-1940
American history 1880-1940
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The Last Thirty Years My Personal Narrative (assuming I lived during the time of President Lincoln) Hi, my name is David Heard. I just turned twenty years old on February 4. I am a second generation American. My whole family is white and is originally from England. I have an older sister, Mary, who we do not see anymore, (I will get to that later), a younger brother, Adam, and both my parents. My parents and little brother live in a nice size house for the three of them. I plan to get married soon, but for now I live in a house near my parents by myself. They do not own that much land, but it is enough for my mom?s garden and for my little brother to play on. My father used to own a little ice cream and candy shop just on the outskirts of Boston. I took it over because my father does not want to work anymore. He feels that he is getting to old to be getting up before the sun rises to make candy. Exactly one month after my birthday President Lincoln was inaugurated. At the end of his inauguration speech he said, ?We (the North and the South) are not enemies, but friends?, (Out of Many, 444). As much as I respect President Lincoln for the great man that he is I do not believe this. Things in this country are going to get worse before they get better. The population of this country has dramatically increased and this is causing more violence to occur between classes. One cannot walk down the street without seeing a fight somewhere. The country is becoming much too violent. I just hope some big war does not erupt soon. Things have changed so much since I was born and even a few years before I was born. I am a strong believer in human rights, such as humane treatment of Indians and slaves. I think that... ... middle of paper ... ...wide power. I hope and pray that our country can learn from its mistakes and move on to become a better nation because of them. Once people realize that our nation can be better off without slavery and the persecution of Indians, we will finally be able to treat people the way they should be treated and truly be the land of the free. No living, breathing human being should be recognized as a piece of property or pushed off of their property. As I begin to think about how our nation is developing I sometimes wonder why I have not joined my sister at the Oneida Community. They are a group of people that realizes the world is unstable and inconsistent and they are doing something about it to live a better life. I hope that in the next few years President Lincoln can change the direction that our country is going and turn us into the great country that we can be.
When I time traveled to the future, it was weird because I went with my sister and with my best friend Layla, but first I will tell you the beginning of the story. When Layla and I were sitting at our desks until our teacher Mrs. Saver showed us a new book called time travel. We both wanted to read the book so we asked Mrs. Sarver if Layla and I could read the book together and Mrs. Sarver told us yes, but we can’t joke around or mess around with each other or she will separate us. When Layla and I went to my house, Layla asked me “wouldn’t you want to travel to the future” and then I got an Idea. I told Layla that she had to go home, but Layla asked me why, so I told her that I had to do my homework, when she left I went to my parent’s
There I was, poised with the first draft of my masters thesis, ready to jack it under the rear wheels of my car so that I could vent my anger and frustration. Never had I felt this kind of undiluted rage in dealing with a piece of writing. As far as I was concerned, the first draft was complete and therefore the entire piece was finished; however, my thesis advisor didn’t quite agree with me. A less deranged friend of mine talked me out of repeatedly backing over my thesis, and convinced me that it didn’t really matter if I did leave tire marks on it because I had multiple drafts on my disk. But still, I knew that it would just feel so good to leave some tire tread on the paper.
When I was young I remember watching movies and television shows with flying cars, robots, hoverboards, etc. I have always been interested in movies, television shows, and even books relating to the future. A movie series I loved while growing up was the Back to the Future movies. My favorite of the franchise was Back to the Future II when Marty, the main character, goes to the future where there are hoverboards and flying cars. Being only seven years old, I was positive this is what the future was going to be like and with television shows like The Jetsons (a children’s cartoon show that depicted the future with flying cars and robots as maids) adding to the assumption we would have so many technological advances, it was hard for me not to
There is an aura of isolation and damnation within recent generations, mainly Millennials and Centennials. There surplus amounts of, what I feel, are accusatory remarks towards my generation. Whether it be that we are careless, socially inept, lethargic, and technology based. In the end, we learn from prior generations--we learn from their senseless mistakes, their ignorance, and their foolish lifestyles. Now we are burdened, left to regulate the blunders made by the Baby-Boomer generation. The recent generations refuse to be taken lightly and question authority because we want change, we want improved global conditions; we want to live. My generation, the Centennials, are a technology reliant generation with apparent apathetic behavior, inducing a judgmental and grim youth social society.
Many days aren’t too different from other people in high school. I wake up, wish for more sleep, go to class, learn, come home, do homework, sleep, repeat. Other days, I’m not so lucky. I call those days my dark days. The days where the darkness consumes the lightest parts of me, leaving only enough room for negativity. Take last month for example, when I relapsed after being okay for 6 months. I sobbed constantly, for reasons not even my mother could understand. I felt like the world was heavier and darker. I was straining under the weight of the monster again.
The last thing I remember was the explosion. Confused “why didn’t the townspeople like the truth?” The ashes that were produced by the explosion full my lungs, so I left. Before I get you up to date with this catastrophic event, let me kindly introduce myself. My names is Henry Adams, I live in this small town by the mountains, where we're known for only thing, coal. The people here all lives simple lives, unfortunately we don’t mine for coal anymore, we have no need for it, we already have plenty coals that has been already mined from the last generation. Strangely no seem to talk about it and when the topic is brought up, most likely from me, people will get weird out and quickly change the topic.
The fear of commitment, when my husband, then just my boyfriend, asked me to marry him I was a 22-year-old carefree girl, and he was 24 years old, we had known each other only for a few months, 5 to be exact. In the beginning I was very apprehensive about it, even though I did not think twice to say yes, because since the beginning of the relationship it feel “Right” and it felt like we knew each other from a long time, so I said yes on February 14, 2005, he went to the place where I used to work, a beauty salon in the Bronx and it was full of people, so he got down on his knee and he took out the ring, my first reaction was “This can’t be right, what is going on?” the client that I was taking care off at the time started screaming “OMG, OH
My names Joshua Patrick Mostad and I was born into a typical white American middle class English speaking family, I was raised as part of the US ethnic majority. My parents are De’Nene and Scott and I have one sister that’s two years older than me. My mom’s a native Montana with a Native American background and my dad has a Norwegian background. My mother was raised catholic, but she never tried to force religion on any of us. I started planning what I wanted in life when I was thirteen, but that plan has changed and evolved quite a bit since then. My childhood education began in Townsend Elementary school where there wasn’t really any diversity at the time that I can remember.
Living in South Georgia, summer days are always scorching and this July afternoon was no expectation. A few days before the fourth of July the temperature records had already hit record high. The temperature’s high for this day was a blazing 102 degrees Fahrenheit. We had devoted most of the day to being cramped indoors, but with two small, lively boys, Christopher and Easton, they were getting fidgety to go outside. Easton, who was only a mere two years old at the time and he could not understand why he could not play outside in the blistering heat. After the sun shifted towards descending, we allowed the boys to get in the swimming pool to excrete some energy. At the same time as the boys were swimming, I grilled supper.
Every day, I wake up, and I get to see my family, and friends, everyday. In America many people have this opportunity, and in other countries many don’t. America has given my generation the gift of freedom to, religion, and speech. I get to go to an amazing school every day and learn about things I’ll need to know. I get the endowment every day, to do what I would like to do volleyball, hang with friends, go to school, and go to church.
A legacy, by definition, is something handed down by a predecessor. That “something” that is passed on could be anything, ranging from a story told by your great aunts and uncles simply to a doll loved by your family being passed on. A legacy can be a physical object or it can be a word of mouth kind of situation. Legacies aren’t always positive, however. A legacy could also be a burden that an ancestor dealt with.
There are countless events that have shaped my life that I have reflected about. There have been challenges and obstacles at times throughout my life that were difficult to overcome at times. Notwithstanding these roadblocks, I confronted them head on by motivating myself and knowing that I can do anything I am determined to achieve. In a way, the challenges that I struggled with have helped me figure out what truly interests me. Overcoming my toughest challenge, though, has helped me to realize what's genuinely important and what I want to do in the future.
At the beginning of the year I was not sure if I would make it to graduation. I attended Elkhart Memorial my freshman, sophomore, and first semester of my junior year, which was not the best experience with high school. When I was in junior high, I had a completely different visualization of what it would be. In reality, it was entirely the opposite of what I had pictured it to look like. I was not always the brightest kid in school. I would say that I was above average for my age up until my freshman year.
There has been many songs saying it is not easy to walk in someone else’s shoes, it is not easy being green, or even the exact words ‘it’s not easy being me’. Sometimes life is hard but there is always a way to get through; I am not going to complain about how hard life has been or how I have had a rough life. However, the truth is, my life built me up to be the leader I am today.
Wednesday October 13th, 2013 is a date in time I will never forget. On that day, time stopped for a moment. I was sixteen and only had my license for one month. I was so excited about having freedom that I drove every day with no hesitation. I was invincible, or so I thought. This day changed my way of thinking completely. What started out as a normal day, quickly turned into one that was very different from any other I had ever experienced. I had just gotten out of cheer practice and was on my way home. On the way, I realized that I needed gas, so I decided to go through South Carolina since they have the lowest gas prices. It was not out of the way. It was just another route home. It was not the first time I had taken this way, but it was definitely the last.