His Eyes

Frogs bruise easily due to

their soft personalities.

Rocks say, with desire,

the need to welcome them.

Clouds sharply cut my heart

revealing red mud hidden

beneath the surface.

Belief surprises wavering emotions.

The dog bites ferociously

at the pearl moon.

His blue eyes seem to

view something I do not.

Summary

English Composition II is the most difficult college class I have ever taken.  I have definitely written more in this class than in any other in my whole educational career.  The assignments are challenging and sharpen my language skills in a different way on each.

The research paper process went too quickly and had too many components, in my opinion.  The Notes and Quotes assignment seemed a little excessive because we listed the sources in the Works Cited, so I did not see the point of going through each individual book and website to dig for the information we paraphrased or quoted.

However, the revisions on each component of the research paper helped ease the stress that always comes along with writing.  Having peers and my professor review my work to tell me the exact problems present, was, by far, the most beneficial requirement during the entire process.  The feedback took the guessing out of the situation and provided me with the means to make my paper better.

Being a joint-enrollment student, I feel like some of the deadlines were too close together and some of the extra credit opportunities did not allow room for a high school student to participate because of the unusual, inflexible schedule I am held to, compared to a college student.  Juggling all of the classes from two different schools is difficult and assignments given out in a back-to-back manner makes the balancing act all the more troublesome.  I am not complaining about doing the work necessary for class, I am only saying that it should be tailored to fit all of the many types of students taking this course, not just the “general” college student.

Overall, the experience has been rewarding.  I am glad that I took English Composition II while still in high school to prepare me for other classes that I will take in college.  Writing is a skill present in most any class; therefore, now that I have participated in this course, I should be more ready to handle what other professors might request of me.

The Corridor

I met you in the corridor.

Passing without spoken word.

Averting eyes to avoid war.

Your steps those of a bird.

Smile to brace.

Pain twinges in my heart.

Where is my place?

From you I feel so far.

Could things return the same?

Could we restart again?

I still have that picture frame.

I still hold you within.

Please come back to me.

Why and what are you rushing for?

Need us fixed to be.

I met you in the corridor.

Women's Rights

The speeches orated by the women reminded me to not take privileges like the right to vote for granted, as I so often do.  Females before me had to fight for the equality that I have never had to work for.  If no one stood up to the male-dominated society of yesteryear, I might still be uneducated and traded like property for marriage to some man by my parents.  Everyone, regardless of gender, should recognize how far women have come and respect the effort it took to make society see females as more than second-class citizens.  We are all equal, no matter what.

Dreams

“Today’s children are tomorrow’s future,” is a common saying that is usually plastered throughout walls of elementary schools everywhere.  It is a positive statement that sums up the collective generalization that most people want to romanticize the goals of the upcoming youth.  When reality hits, however, the sting can be lasting.  “You can be anything you want to be,” is a phrase that once filled my mind with dreamlike splendor of what could happen in my life.  When one really contemplates these words, the lie is so blatant and crushing to the spirit.  This ambitious statement represents my first confrontation with hypocrisy.

One human being cannot do everything.  Different people experience contrasting talents.  Therefore, one cannot be anything they want to be.  A colorfully gifted population is what society needs to function.  If each one of us had the same abilities, then the world would not be able to operate at its fullest capacity.  Variety is simply a fact of life and should be accepted early on to avoid emotional scarring and ridiculous expectations. 

Should society not pressure the next generation?  Talking down to children and destroying their dreams is unethical, but should the world be painted in such a generous light that is so clearly unrealistic?  Do not be mistaken, a child can have dreams.  If they are relevant to a child’s interests and skills then they are wonderful because they give them drive to accomplish goals and achieve what might seem highly impossible from their standing.  If people lacked dreams, not a soul would be able to get out of the bed in the morning.  They serve a purpose to entice us to keep going in life and see what the next page and, in turn, what the next chapter of our lives holds.  One can be anything they have the knowledge, skill, and talent for.      

The Mouse

Billows of steam dance off of the tops of warm oatmeal raisin cookies that recently arrived from their cocoon that guided them through the metamorphosis from the basic baking elements to the melody that a tall glass of milk harmonizes with.  The smell sweeps through the house delighting every nose in its path.  These cookies are not normal cookies by any means.  The mother of some very busy children put herself to work in the kitchen in order to craft her dessert to welcome them home from their journeys.  After she finishes with her labor of love, she realizes that there is no more milk, so she dashes from the house and off to the supermarket before the children come home to find their surprise.

In a small crevice of the kitchen wall behind the china cabinet, a small gray mouse stirs.  Enticed by the aroma, he pokes his head out of his home and around the corner of the woodwork of the cabinet to see the treasures perched on top of the White Mountain high above where he gazed.  He quietly considers the risks of going after his new desire.  Ultimately, the temptation overtakes his will and he starts forward toward his goal.

He saunters across the cold hardwood floor, unsure that he is completely alone.  He peers around each corner and holds his breath, breathing only when it is absolutely necessary.  After crossing the gleaming amber surface with exacted precision, the tiny mouse slowly raises his head to look at what is ahead.  Shiny knobs covering even more wood protrude from the side of the mountain he is going to have to inevitably climb.  Looking around for something to give himself a boost up to his endeavor, he finds that the trash can will be able to help with his predicament.  He takes a deep breath, runs, and leaps onto the pedal of the trash can which flings him up high enough to grab a nearby knob.  After letting out a particularly curt sigh, he starts swinging himself from knob to knob until he grasps the corner of the Kitchen Kilimanjaro.  The minuscule mouse struggles his way to a prostrate position and puffs out his chest triumphantly.  He performs his obligatory victory dance and feels quite proud of himself.  He struts over to the oatmeal raisin cookies that have been patiently waiting on him and proceeds to devour the most appetizing looking morsel of the bunch.

The experience is beautiful, just as he expected.  The raisins are plump and tender while the surrounding sea of crisp cookie offers a complimenting crunch.  Overwhelmed with joy, the little mouse lounges back in ecstasy.  The door slams, which causes the mouse’s eyes to pop open.  His crumbs drop.  His heart and stomach follow suit.  “How do I get down?” contemplates the mouse desperately.

  

Troy Maxson: Distrust Of The White Man

Life has never been easy for Troy Maxson.  His father and mother did not care for him and he grows up to act in the same manner towards his wife and children.  He believes that the white man is always breathing down his back, waiting for him to slip up.  His tough exterior turns family members away from him and causes his departure from the world to be exactly like his arrival, lacking love.

Troy is a sanitation worker and he is convinced that the white men get the easier job of driving garbage trucks instead of lifting waste because of their skin color.  He later gets a job as a driver, but still sticks to his theory of having to work twice as hard to get ahead in the world because he is African-American.

When Troy’s son begins to look at playing sports in college, he tries to shoot him down immediately.  Even though a lot of time has passed since he was an athlete, he is adamant that his son will inevitably face rejection like he did.  At this point, African-American players have become more prominent; still, he will not hear of anything that the college recruiter or his own son has to say about playing football, regardless of his drive or talent.

Troy feels a great amount of guilt about taking Gabriel’s money to help with finances, so he always bails him out of the trouble he gets in.  Gabriel’s war injury caused him to contract mental problems which sometimes get the police’s attention and they charge him with disturbing the peace.  Troy pays the fines because he knows that Gabriel does not mean any harm and he thinks it would be cruel to lock him up after he selflessly gave his sanity to help the country.  Once again, he believes that the justice system is out for his money because he is a black man.

Racial Paranoia follows Troy to the grave.  Despite the love and support of his wife, he feels as though he cannot trust anyone.  He strives to make everybody else miserable because he hates seeing others happy.  Troy does not trust the white man and he dies with the only person he does trust, himself. 

The Only Thing You Got In This World Is What You Can Sell

Willy Loman is a people person.  He loves to have others like him and remember his name.  Nevertheless, Willy is mystified by the fact that his legacy does not matter as much as the quality of his work ethic.  Bernard’s father, Charley, reminds him of this, “The only thing you got in this world is what you can sell.”  Charley is trying to give him advice because is disgruntled by the loss of his job.  Willy cannot believe that Howard can be so cold even after he named him and worked for the company long before his birth.  Charley is trying to tell him that little favors are nice to remember, but they are not the essential things.  Willy should work for his name and not rely on contacts and past experiences.

Charley’s quote shows the culture of late 1940’s America by referring to the rebirth that Americans had to go through after the depression.  People had nothing to lose; they only had what they could sell.  They had to start over completely.  Charley’s statement is a good motto for the late forties because it is succinct, and sobering.  Americans had to gain an optimistic attitude, wear a smile, and go out to brave the world again to try to earn a living regardless of the recent devastation.

The aforementioned quote can be applied to our current, material society by illustrating how we want what others have and we are never satisfied.  Anything can be sold, not limited to only what can be found in a store.  We can sell our souls.  One must be careful not to give in to the latest trend without considering the consequences.  Morals have become a rarity and it is a shame.  We should not settle with lackadaisical ethics, but we should strive to do better than the rest.  Everybody is given only one life and we should make every day count, no matter who is watching or what praise we might receive.   

Are We Really Free?

Are we really free?  At first glance, we appear to be.  However, if we look further into our decisions and why we make them, it is obvious that we are not entirely free.   Numerous influences and pressures come at us all the time and we cannot stop them.  They are natural and sometimes beneficial to us.  Even though they are commonly thought of as being oppressive this is not always the case.

Parents want their children to do well in life and have more wealth and opportunity than they had.  They do not want to suck their children’s dreams out of their lives; they just want to make sure that these dreams are realistic and not harmful to them.  Parents do not want to see their children struggle to make a living.  They simply want their offspring to be happy and be able to provide their children with even better means to accomplish their dreams.

Peers usually have good intentions behind their advice to friends, although sometimes their motives are not so pure.  Good friends mean well and want their friends to succeed at whatever their dreams may be.  They should not want to pull their friend down in any way even if it means having to part ways temporarily or permanently.  Friendships as well as other relationships such as romantic are a means of support because we naturally have the need to connect to others.  They are not bad as long as they are healthy and not draining on the participants.  When they become burdens, it is the responsibility of the people in the relationship to nourish it back to health or stop interacting with each other.

The media also influences us every day.  We cannot get away from it.  Unlike the two previous sources of influences, the media has no personal attachment to its recipients.  It is not always negative, yet that is the common stereotype.  We must filter what we hear from others because what we allow ourselves to think will eventually become what we believe.  Our discernment could possibly be one of the most important skills we can attain because it guarantees what freedom we have by giving us the ability to choose what we think to be true.  No matter what others say, we must keep our dreams in sight and not lose hope of achieving them.

Death of a Salesman Cast

If I were to cast the characters for the movie version of Death of a Salesman I would choose the following actors and actresses:

Tom Selleck would portray Willy Loman because of his rugged look.  Willy represents the typical American father.  He works hard for his living and he is determined to do well in the business world.  He is sixty years old and he is having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that he is getting older.  Tom Selleck could depict his character well because he looks like a worn man that wants to make a living for himself and his family.

Meryl Streep would characterize Linda Loman for she is said to have graying hair and a sweet temperament.  Linda stands by her husband and tries to help him in any way she can.  She is not only a supportive wife, but she is also a supportive mother.  Willy loses his temper with his sons while she tries to be the peacemaker.  Meryl Streep has an endearing, motherly way about her that would fit Linda’s character perfectly.

Ashton Kutcher would act the part of Happy Loman since he is described as being young and playful.  Happy is not a teenager anymore, however, this fact does not stop him from acting like one.  He loves to chase women with no intention of commitment.  He is a little bit more responsible when it comes to his work than his brother, Biff, but that does not stop him from dreaming.  His character is also described as being handsome which works out for his restless nature when it comes to relationships.  Ashton Kutcher could portray Happy’s character because of his young appearance and his good looks.

Ryan Reynolds would portray Biff Loman because of his mature look.  Although Biff is not extremely grown-up for his age, he is more so than his brother, Happy.  Biff wants to please his father, yet he cannot seem to make himself fit into the business environment.  He previously worked a farm and he has since returned to live with his parents in search of a new job.  Ryan Reynolds has a youthful appearance mixed with a rough element that would be able to show Biff’s transitioning nature from a teenager to a man.

 

The "American Dream"

The world seems to be turning at a faster pace each day.  We start our mornings off with a tall coffee and keep ourselves going through the day with a red bull because we arrogant humans will not take the time to slow down and take a nap.  Most of us go home only to sleep and prepare for the next day; making home cooked meals a joke and simple conversations seem time consuming.

The “American Dream” is not similar in any way to the modern American family.  This “Dream” entails a loving mother that stays at home every day to look after the house and take care of the children while a hardworking father is making a lavish salary to bring home to pay for the children’s lunches, milk money, and also provide enough for the mother to go purchase hats and attend luncheons with the other ladies of the town.  This family-who is commonly pictured as white- is clean and their house is spotless.  No one ever fights and there is no sadness.

Now, usually, both parents work to bring home money that seems to barely stretch far enough to pay all of the bills.  Housework gets pushed aside and most children rarely ever eat a home-cooked meal.  Spouses fight over their children’s fighting.  Peace remains to be seen.

What happened to us?  The answer is simple.  The human condition compels us to want to be better than everybody else, at everything.  We always have to achieve more success every year.  We disregard that we are imperfect and have limits.  Unless people somehow become robots in the near future, we will have to settle for what we have and lower the preposterous expectations of ourselves.  As a result, the modern family would be happier, healthier, and closer to the ideal “American Dream.”   

Le Cafe Crepe

The time is five o’ clock and it is a Friday evening.  I am riding in the car with my parents to go to a new French restaurant in Marietta.  Cars are zipping back and forth on the roads, undoubtedly filled with parents and children ready to go home and enjoy the ease of the weekend.

As we approach the buzzing metropolitan square, the sky is now striped with baby pink and burnt orange.  When I out of the car, I am taken aback by the romantic setting.  A battered brick walkway with lampposts sprinkled along the side hugs the restaurant cutting it off from the noisy railroad tracks across the way.  Tiny steps lead customers up to the café and into a cocoon-like atmosphere. 

Once inside, we are welcomed to subtle French electronic music and deep royal purple walls with candles lighting each table.  In a small kitchen the chef and sous chef peek out of a little window to make sure their customers are happy and taken care of.  When we are seated, a petite woman takes our drink orders and leaves us to make our meal selections.  I do not know what to choose.  Each dish is tempting, but unfortunately I cannot try everything in one night.  After a lot of thinking, I finally decide on a chicken and spinach crepe.  When the waitress glides away from our table with our requests again, I immediately resume admiring the scenery.  Paintings of at least a dozen different artists drape the walls and, for some reason, hidden in the rafters is a dusty disco ball.  Nothing matches, yet the décor seems to work.

When our meals arrive, the aroma alone is enough to win my heart.  I pick up my fork and taste the steamy, tender crepe and I am instantly in love.  Each bite is equally satisfying and before I know it, my fork hits the plate.  It’s gone.  To lift my spirits, I order a cup of hot chocolate and consider taking my plate hostage and scurrying away to the bathroom to finish up what little is left.

After what seems like an eternity, the waitress brings me a frothy hot chocolate with cool whipped cream on top.  As I take my first sip, I start to wonder if the chef is married.  If a man would cook for me like this every day, I would be his wife.  Unfortunately, he is married so I have to settle for the one meal.  The warm elixir continues to soothe my broken heart until that, too, vanishes.  Sad to leave, I vow to forever make the Le Café Crepe my favorite restaurant.    

Connections through Food

       One night this week my mother and I made one of my favorite meals, fish tacos with black beans. Fish tacos are a comfort food that remains close to my heart and makes me feel better on even the worst day. We used tilapia, a common white fish that can be purchased in any supermarket. The frozen tilapia was probably harvested in Chile and flown back to Georgia. To dress the tacos, we took bagged coleslaw mix and tossed it with lime juice. The coleslaw mix is likely to have come from China because of their high production of cabbage. The lime juice possibly originates from Florida due to limes being citrus fruits. The final ingredient I used to top my taco was avocado. Avocados are grown in California, so that is my best guess for their roots. As for the black beans and tortillas, they could have been shipped from Mexico or the United States.

       Just one meal alone connects so many people together. Perhaps most of them do not get to partake in the delicious result; nevertheless a great deal of people are influenced whether it’s by harvesting or selling the various ingredients, everyone has a part. In our current society, we have to rely on each other. At some point in your life you will have to break down and ask for help of some kind, regardless of if you want to or not. A baby is helplessly dependent on its mother like we are dependent on one another. Exchanging our resources between each other closes the circle of need. We cannot live without food, forcing us to interact with others whenever we go out to eat, go to the grocery store, and of course during the holidays like Thanksgiving. Food is a form of communication that bridges all races and ages.

Test

Test.