My Grandma Essay

My hands shook furiously as Keith Shadis paced up and down around the other cadets. Chest pounding at what felt like 1000 beats a minute, I prayed that Shadis wouldn't come close to me. After seeing the way he had already interagated potato girl I don't think I would be able to handle talking to him. "Hey calm down. It's gonna be okay," I heard a voice whisper to me. I whipped my head around to see that Zoe was standing there. She was standing tall and confidently, unlike myself who was still…

The title character Antonia is also a “working girl” throughout the course of the novel. After Antonia’s father dies, the community seems remarkably disappointed at the fact that Antonia steps up to the plate and begins working alongside Ambrosch. Antonia is described as having “her neck [coming] up strongly out of her shoulders, like the bole of a tree out of the turf. One sees that draft-horse neck among the peasant women in all old countries” (Cather 90). The latter part of this quote is…

In My Antonia, Cather uses symbols from nature to express the essential aspects of the lives of the characters. Some symbols are of the land: the prairie, the grass, winter, etc. Other symbols are animals: badgers, wolves, rattlesnakes, larks, etc. Choose three symbols and discuss how they convey information about the daily lives of the characters, how the characters relate to each other and/or how Cather views life. In My Antonia, by Willa Cather, there are multiple examples of symbolism. Mr.…

Chapter 1 ♡ The Princess of Audacity My eyes flutter open and I immediately shut them again wishing myself back into a dream. Even though I can’t remember what I was dreaming about exactly, I know that any dream good or bad would be better than my real life. I can hear the soft whisper of voices behind my door and know that if I don’t get up now on my own, I’ll be woken up in a matter of minutes. I slowly sit up and let out a sigh. The stale air circulating through my room has a cold bite to…

the playing field of my life lies the truth of my life. Reality is nothing more, or less, than a momentary reflection. My core is my foundation, always there for me, even during the most challenging of times. From this place, I can respond to anything in a way that’s aligned with who I really am. Keep facing pain, fears and flaws, so I can break through the barriers of automatic patterns and see what’s possible beyond the beliefs I have about myself and others. When I challenge my limiting…

little diversity and culture represented in my Massachusetts home; it was a bit of a culture shock arriving in New York City. Here; different cultures are represented, various opinions are presented, and social norms are rejected. With this refreshing outlook on life, I believe it is necessary to get outside of your comfort zone and become aware of your surroundings. Back in my home town of Marshfield, I felt completely closed off to the rest of the world. My town was made up of little…

A swarm of bees took flight in my stomach. Although the roar of the crowd was audible from backstage, I moved around attempting to hear the fulfilling clank of the beads that attached to my cornrow braids. I felt skeptical about everything around me as this was more than ever I dreamed of in the twenty-five years of my life. I mustered the courage to peer behind the curtains only to find multitudinous copies of my book being held by people whom I’d never met before. The same words of “The fear…

The short story “A Mere interlude” written by Thomas Hardy makes effective use of narrative voice to reveal the intentions of Hardy in crafting such a story. The irony of the title, as what was supposed to be “A Mere Interlude”, Baptista’s short and tragic marriage to her ex-lover Charles Stow, eventually takes form as a major turning point in her life. It subjects her to much emotional turmoil and eventually leads her back to the one thing she hoped to escape from through her marriage to…

their inevitable fate. Obviously, some would argue that an eternity of burning in hellfire is a lot worse than an eternity of sharing circle-related anxiety, but those people have probably spent very little time in a sharing circle. A big part of my hatred for these circles…

All The Lights I clench my fist tightly. Twenty-one blinking faces stare me down. I look down at my paper, feeling tears rising from wherever tears come from to the corners of my eyes. I blink them back. “Dormant breathing, constant searching, I am alert…..” I stumble over the last words in my poem, the class courteously claps, and I shuffle to my seat in one sweeping motion. We had been assigned to write a poem on our perception of current events in the world. Writing the poem was fairly…