Finally, he portrays the result of a young death through the affected family’s mourning in the solemn poem: “Avocado Lake” (1975). Through the use of powerful imagery, precise descriptions, and free verse poetry, Gary Soto’s poems evoke a sense of sympathy for the underprivileged Mexican-American community where he grew up, while telling a beautiful story. Gary Soto illustrates his unfortunate childhood realities through powerful
In the summer of '62, Steve Polimeni, my best friend in all the world, closer than a brother since we were four years old, came from Portland for a visit. Eight years earlier, Steve and I were five-year-olds, attached at the hip, growing up in the suburban jungle of expanding Portland. Although we lived in a big city, we were no strangers to wild adventure. The neighborhoods were expanding at breakneck speed in an effort to keep up with the post-war baby boom. The suburbs were rolling over the former hayfields and forests of northeast Portland.
Back to Claremont He turned to me, questioning whether I want to raise it or not. The only reply he received-frankly the only reply he would ever need-was my bid number slightly raised in the air and my head slightly nodding in approval. “Two now two now two now two,” an unruly cry tore through his lips, shaking the entire crowd. My actions were kept repetitive and my eye never left the opposing bidder, a collector from out of town.
Monday October 3rd I was texting my cousin Teagan Snyder and was talking about rodeo season again and she said that she was going to a Leon rodeo and I asked her to ask her mom if I could go with her. Her mom said yes so I hadn’t practiced at all during the week before the rodeo. The Friday night that I got down there I had to get everything ready for the rodeo in one night and it was really hard.
Hello again, I am so sorry I’ve emailed you so many times but I would really really like to meet one on one with Gerardo. My initial meeting that was scheduled for February 14th, I had to cancel due to being very sick and not wanting to spread it to him or his family. Are there any open slots? God bless, Rachal Adent
I have been doing some thinking about our conversation a few days ago and have concluded that I will take you up on the offer! I just sold my old bike and now have some money left over that I can use to pay for those seminars. I am going to see how soon I can get this done, I am going to look at the dates and send my form in. I will keep you posted on the status of things as they get processed.
With my Cajita I would like to express myself as a person who is going through changes and a journey to becoming the best person that I can be at this moment in my life. Since I realize I didn’t have a meaning to life and all my hard worked was mean less since I didn’t have a true purpose for my hard work. I realize that life don’t have to be so complex and that we must find our own path even if people don’t agree with our choices. Therefore, my three artifacts that going to be in my Cajita will representing my journey of change and symbolize me truly fallen in love with myself for both inner and outer. So, my three artifacts are the Bible, kickboxing hand wraps, and hair pick.
The moment I walked into this new small town school; I felt strained. I went from PS 60 in Queens to some place called Cocalico Middle school. I walked into my first day hoping I’d be indifferent, but feelings don’t work that way. The first thing I noticed was the lack of diversity; I noticed this when I was at school and then when I went to the local grocery store. I observed everything, but tried not to make myself noticed.
The Pad is a burger place in north Topeka. The Pad has been in the same place for the last forty or so years. It is a medium sized building with its sign out front being a rocket ready to launch. Most days The Pad is not that crowded, but always has a good amount of people there. Many families have been going to The Pad for generations.
With an abrupt rattle and jerk, I was interrupted from my two-and-a-half hour uncomfortable van ride nap. Immediately, my nostrils were flooded with tropical coconuts, bananas, and citruses of nearby vendors and shacks. Drowned out by the rambunctious engines of motorcycle taxis were the passionate greetings of townspeople and the entire community. When I stepped out of the van, the horizon was noticeably stuffed with constant greenery and the humidity was so thick that I could almost chew it. The neighborhood seemed shabby and run-down, yet everyone smiled and treated one another like a big family.
Kirijmoj Christmas. Snow falling, drinking hot chocolate by the fire place, spending time with family, smelling the lovely scent of pine trees, driving around neighborhoods to see the sparkling Christmas lights, picking out your own beautiful tall Christmas tree. This is my favorite time of the year…but Christmas in the Marshall Islands is nothing like this. Kirijmoj.
Dominique Doll 523 9100 St. Charles Rock Road St. Louis, MO 63114 (314) 493-6100 dolld053@ritenourschools.org Patricide by Dominique Doll As I sit in this psychiatric rehabilitation center for treatment all I can think about is my sister Maddy. Everything that I have done has been to give her a better life. To get her away from my drunk and abusive so called “father”.
I drive my white Nissan maxima over the speed bumps probably a little too fast as I leave the parking lot. Once I reach the stop sign, I take a moment to turn around and look at the beautiful school building behind me. Rigby High School—I can’t believe I go there. To me, that beautiful building is almost as breathtaking as the work out I just finished; running over and over through the halls of the school because it’s too cold to run outside. What used to be a small school when I was young has seemed to grow to be competitive and quite big, and seems to grow bigger each year.
Personal Refection This project did not elicit as much emotion from myself as I expected. It is hard to imagine my own death, and even in the midst of talking about it, I find myself thinking it’s not a current reality. I am conflicted by this realization. I am thankful to have discussed possible funeral arrangements with my family members without much emotional toll on myself, but I also find this somewhat concerning.
Here, this theme of ambivalence arises once again, and it represents the people of Miguel’s Street view of American culture. They want to accept American culture and be more like them, however, they don’t want to lose the spirit of their small village. The people of Miguel Street often complain about their living conditions, and how it is unfair that they have it worse. They know that accepting Western values would help them with this issue, however, one of the biggest ways that they connect is through their culture. If they were to move away from the culture that was built via the connections on Miguel Street, it would completely change the aspects of their town.
