I first wake up to the sound of the alarm of my sisters iPod Touch: "Bah bah buh, bah bah bah buh. Bah bah buh, bah bah bah buh." Then, I turn over and go back to sleep. Probably twenty minutes later at seven o'clock, my sister comes into our room saying, "Livvy. You have to get up." I groan, and without saying anything hold up five fingers. This means, "Five more minutes...Please!" My sister continues to harangue me until I reluctantly get up to wash my face.
The water in the bathroom tap is very deceiving. First it is a nice, warm temperature. But, after a minute it turns deathly cold without any warning. I try to wash my face as fast as I can while still being half-asleep so that I don't have to experience the bracing, cold water.
After that, I get dressed for school in my uniform: white polo, blue pants. Then I go eat breakfast. I have virtually the same thing for breakfast every morning: cereal in an orange cup. After breakfast, I go into rush-mode because usually it is around 7:45, and my sister makes us leave the apartment at 7:55. I brush my teeth, put on some socks, maybe some makeup if I have time, and try to make my hair look presentable. Then I grab my phone and keys, and am ushered out the door by my sister. She has an irrational fear of being late for the bus, and then late to school, and every day she complains to me about it. She has never been late to school. Not even once.
Olivia's English Blog
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
A History of This Fork
This fork was made as part of a collection of silverware in a factory. Afterwards, it was shipped to a quaint kitchen supply store in a small town called Redbrooke. The store had just started their business. The two owners, Mark and Jason, a gay couple who were both in their sixties, were coming into the retail business for the first time, after a lifetime of working as doctors. The small town was getting larger, and their business was one of a handful that had just opened. Many new families were also moving to the town because although there weren't many job opportunities, Redbrooke was an ideal place to raise children. One day, a new family in town came into the store to buy some supplies. They were refugees from Syria, and had a little girl. They had left everything in Syria, and so they had to buy basic supplies for their home.
Mark and Jason were delighted to have some customers. The family of three was rushing to buy everything they needed. They bought almost one of everything in the store, and were talking swiftly in Arabic. Jason was at the counter. He asked the mother, "I've never seen you around town. Did you just move here?" She answered, "Yes. We just got here. We were living in Syria before, but we needed to leave. We have a daughter." Jason was intrigued. Virtually no one in Redbrooke was a foreigner. Mark was in the back room, and Jason called him in, "Mark! You have to meet these new people!"
The family went back to their new house, a small yellow bungalow. Both parents had gone to university in the United States, but had moved back to Syria after they finished. But, once the war started, they decided to start over. They got out a map, and picked a spot in the United States at random; spinning three times and then touching the map. That night, they ate with their new silverware for the first time--and it was the first meal they'd had where they didn't feel scared anymore.
Two years later, on the first day of school, their daughter took the fork in her lunch bag. It was a small fork--perfect for a girl who was six years old. When it was time for lunch, though, the girl felt very different. All of the other kids were the lunches served in school. She had a thermos of Tabbouleh and meat. The other kids thought she was weird. When she got home, she asked her mother, "Can I have the school lunch now, mama?"
The mother didn't know what to do after her daughter asked her the question. But, she didn't want her daughter to have one more reason to feel different from all of the other kids. So, the fork was put in a kitchen drawer. It stayed there, unnoticed, until a year later when there was an earthquake in the town of Redbrooke. The fork was jostled and shook until it fell behind the drawers--silverware limbo.
It stayed there until the new owners moved in, after the Syrian family was free to go back to Syria. The new owners were the type of people that cleaned the entire house before moving into it. They threw it out, thinking it was worthless. Somehow, it ended up at a garage sale 10 years later. How it got there is a mystery.
Mark and Jason were delighted to have some customers. The family of three was rushing to buy everything they needed. They bought almost one of everything in the store, and were talking swiftly in Arabic. Jason was at the counter. He asked the mother, "I've never seen you around town. Did you just move here?" She answered, "Yes. We just got here. We were living in Syria before, but we needed to leave. We have a daughter." Jason was intrigued. Virtually no one in Redbrooke was a foreigner. Mark was in the back room, and Jason called him in, "Mark! You have to meet these new people!"
The family went back to their new house, a small yellow bungalow. Both parents had gone to university in the United States, but had moved back to Syria after they finished. But, once the war started, they decided to start over. They got out a map, and picked a spot in the United States at random; spinning three times and then touching the map. That night, they ate with their new silverware for the first time--and it was the first meal they'd had where they didn't feel scared anymore.
Two years later, on the first day of school, their daughter took the fork in her lunch bag. It was a small fork--perfect for a girl who was six years old. When it was time for lunch, though, the girl felt very different. All of the other kids were the lunches served in school. She had a thermos of Tabbouleh and meat. The other kids thought she was weird. When she got home, she asked her mother, "Can I have the school lunch now, mama?"
The mother didn't know what to do after her daughter asked her the question. But, she didn't want her daughter to have one more reason to feel different from all of the other kids. So, the fork was put in a kitchen drawer. It stayed there, unnoticed, until a year later when there was an earthquake in the town of Redbrooke. The fork was jostled and shook until it fell behind the drawers--silverware limbo.
It stayed there until the new owners moved in, after the Syrian family was free to go back to Syria. The new owners were the type of people that cleaned the entire house before moving into it. They threw it out, thinking it was worthless. Somehow, it ended up at a garage sale 10 years later. How it got there is a mystery.
Tuesday, May 14, 2013
The Main Function of School Should Be to Prepare Students for Life, Not Just For Further Study
Even though there is no course in a school titled 'Life,' it does not mean that schools shouldn't be preparing students for life. Preparing students for the real world is very important. And, it's not as hard as one would think. Life skills are integrated into a lot of classes without effort. For instance, almost every school challenges its students to learn how to work in groups. In my opinion, learning to work with other people is the most important life skill a school could give to its students. Schools also teach students how to read and write--essential tools for succeeding in the world today. I think that schools have to teach students how to work with other people and how to do basic things that will help them in the real world.
On the other hand, I think that schools shouldn't have to teach their students every single thing that the students need for life after school. I could argue that schools don't teach basic things like how to cook a meal, how to wash some laundry, or how to drive a car. But, I don't think schools should have to teach their students these things--I think that its the students' parent's responsibility.
On the other hand, I think that schools shouldn't have to teach their students every single thing that the students need for life after school. I could argue that schools don't teach basic things like how to cook a meal, how to wash some laundry, or how to drive a car. But, I don't think schools should have to teach their students these things--I think that its the students' parent's responsibility.
Monday, April 29, 2013
Room 101: Persuasive Writing
If I could put one thing in Room 101, I would choose to put people who act like they are better than everyone else. These people are an extreme pet-peeve of mine. Usually, these people are actually extremely insecure, or feel like they have something to prove, so they act like they are better than every other person so that they can give themselves confidence. If this type of person was banished from the earth, I think everyone would be happier. The way they act benefits no other person except them. These people put down others to raise themselves up. But, they don't know that there are much better ways to make yourself feel good about . And, you can do it while making other people happy at the same time! I understand that everyone has insecurities, but why people are snobby and put other people down, I just can't stand.
I've had many acquaintances with people like this. For instance, my family is a part of a large circle of friends. Almost all of my parents' friends who are a part of the group have kids. Most of the kids are older than I am, and although the age difference isn't an issue today, it was when I was younger. My friend and I were always excluded from the group of older kids. They would sit together in the host of the party's bedroom, talking. Always, they would lock the door before my friend and I could get in. Sometimes my friend and I would spend a whole evening begging, kicking the door, until they all came out to go downstairs to eat. Those moments when they came out both good and bad: good in the sense that we got to see them, but bad because they didn't recognize us. When they came back, they would lock the door again. We thought they were so cool, but it was really painful when they didn't act like we were people, too. For me, it was the worst, though. My friend got by sometimes because she had an older brother who was a very accepted member of the older kids' group. I was the youngest of the people who could actually "participate" in a conversation. But, they just viewed me as my friend's sidekick, and that really hurt me because I'm sure I could have gotten along with them if they had just given me a chance. Most of those kids who excluded me are now in college, and now they know that I'm "cool," too. It's sad that they treated me that way for so many years because I think they would have liked me if they'd made an effort to get to know me.
Now I am the same age that they were when they acted that way to me. But, I've vowed to be different than them--if a kid smaller than me wants to join in on a conversation I'm having with my group of older friends, I will definitely let them. Because, I know how it feels to be put down by people who think they are better than you, and it's a terrible feeling.
I've had many acquaintances with people like this. For instance, my family is a part of a large circle of friends. Almost all of my parents' friends who are a part of the group have kids. Most of the kids are older than I am, and although the age difference isn't an issue today, it was when I was younger. My friend and I were always excluded from the group of older kids. They would sit together in the host of the party's bedroom, talking. Always, they would lock the door before my friend and I could get in. Sometimes my friend and I would spend a whole evening begging, kicking the door, until they all came out to go downstairs to eat. Those moments when they came out both good and bad: good in the sense that we got to see them, but bad because they didn't recognize us. When they came back, they would lock the door again. We thought they were so cool, but it was really painful when they didn't act like we were people, too. For me, it was the worst, though. My friend got by sometimes because she had an older brother who was a very accepted member of the older kids' group. I was the youngest of the people who could actually "participate" in a conversation. But, they just viewed me as my friend's sidekick, and that really hurt me because I'm sure I could have gotten along with them if they had just given me a chance. Most of those kids who excluded me are now in college, and now they know that I'm "cool," too. It's sad that they treated me that way for so many years because I think they would have liked me if they'd made an effort to get to know me.
Now I am the same age that they were when they acted that way to me. But, I've vowed to be different than them--if a kid smaller than me wants to join in on a conversation I'm having with my group of older friends, I will definitely let them. Because, I know how it feels to be put down by people who think they are better than you, and it's a terrible feeling.
Opinion on an Opinion Article
Here is the article I read:
I
agree with the author of the article, David Sheff. He believes that there
should be “Good Samaritan” laws for people who call 911 to report a drug
overdose. Sheff has personal experience with drug overdose. His son, Nic, was
fifteen minutes away from dying from an overdose. But, Nic was saved, all
because someone called 911 to get him help. Sheff says, “I don’t know who
called the paramedics, but not a day goes by when I don’t thank him.”
I
believe that being irresponsible with drugs can only lead to bad things. The
problem is that drugs are addicting. The terrible thing is that when a person has
overdosed on drugs, they are virtually helpless. If there are other people
present, they are their only hope. But, the articles says, “research suggests
that, among those who witness an overdose, the most common reason people don’t
call for help is the fear of being arrested.” Sheff made a good point by
telling the story of a man’s son who wasn’t as lucky as Nic had been. His
friends didn’t want to get caught for abusing drugs, because in the United
States drug laws are incredibly severe and can result in long jail time. So,
instead of calling 911, they put the overdosed boy in a bathtub full of ice—an ill-advised
method that they had seen on TV. The boy died.
Deaths
caused by drug overdoses keep rising in the United States. They “have more than
tripled since 1990, leading to over 38,000 deaths in the United States in 2010.”
And, drug overdose is the leading cause of nonnatural death in the country. These
astounding statistics create all the more need for “Good Samaritan” laws,
because above all, the “Good Samaritan” laws are certain to save lives.
Saturday, April 20, 2013
Hey!
My name is Olivia, if that's not obvious enough from the title. I had to make this blog to keep my work for my English class. I'm not sure of all of the things I'll be posting yet because it's all up to my teacher. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy! :)
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