On May 20,1996 I was born Damione Freeman growing up in a small city named Pell City. Growing up wasn't easy for me father was never around just leaving me with my mother. As a child I was always happy, caring, and well mannered. When I turned five I started living with my grandmother, Dianne Freeman and my uncle, Akeem Freeman. At the age of five I was torn away from my mother because of her husband and his issues.
In The Grapes of Wrath and Civil Disobedience, authors John Steinbeck and Henry David Thoreau discuss their beliefs about the government. Having being written more than one hundred years apart, these authors overlap and differ on some of their ideas about the government. Both Steinbeck and Thoreau believe that there should be a universal solution to governmental issues. However, they differ on what exactly should be universal and whether there should be a governmental force at all. It can be seen in both The Grapes of Wrath and Civil Disobedience that authors John Steinbeck and Henry David Thoreau believe that universal ideas are the solution to a well-run and just government.
SOURCE: On Sunday, January 3, 2016 at approximately 1900 hours, I received a telephone call from Sgt. John Sanzone, who told me there was a drive by shooting that had just occurred. Sgt. Sanzone assigned me as the CSI lead on this case.
The summer of 2016 my family and I took a road trip to Colorado. Colorado reminded me a lot of Minnesota but on a big Mountain. There are river valleys that are 1,250 feet deep to mountains that are 14,114 feet high. I climbed a mountain in Glenwood Canyon.
“There is six feet of snow outside, and I am freezing in here, can we add more wood to the fire,” asked Cortana. “You know there was not always snow, there was a point in time when it was only green grass all year long,” stated Siri. “Funny one, and how would you know about that?” asked Cortana “Cause I lived through it all, here sit down and I will tell you about it.”
Instead of hating bugs or spiders, I hated the outside as a child. Preferring to stay indoors, I spent my hours reading and drawing, dreading the moments my parents dragged me to a field to force sports down my throat. Basketball, soccer, volleyball; I tried all and loathed indiscriminately. Unfortunately, my father loved the outdoors, saving money for exotic vacations such as driving to the tip of Mexico instead of buying the latest iphone. Forced to go along with the rest of the family, I despised every minute of it.
Everybody knows that there are four seasons, and everyone has their favorite one out of all of them. Mine is when the woods turns into a coloring book of orange and red, when I put a nice warm batch of hot co-co on the stove, and were all of my family comes together every year. My favorite season is fall. My favorite hobby is hunting.
“Brother, Brother don’t leave me! Don’t leave me!” I turned around I would never leave my brother, I apprehensively turned around keeping the hope that Doodle wasn’t hurt. Even though Doodle was kind of a virulent to me, always following me around being my shadow; I still love him even though he can irritate me. I had inferred that Doodle was hurt when I couldn’t see him anymore, I had lost all hope so quickly.
Narrative K-12 From a very young age, I could remember myself wanting to become a teacher. I loved school. Before my younger brother started school, I would create worksheets for him to complete. I wanted to teach him everything I knew.
Personal Narrative It was a cold November Friday. The sun was hidden behind a thick layer of clouds as it usually is most of the winter in Michigan. I had just been picked up from St. Martha, the very first school I ever attended. The car ride home seemed to be very different than any other.
It’s either 2003 or 2004, a six year old or seven year old me, is in the back seat of a Green Grand Cherokee Jeep car, listening to a 1995 Jungle Mania cassette tape blasted full volume on the car stereo, on the way back home from after school club. I’m in my school uniform, with my seat beat strapped on bouncing excitingly to this wild 150 to 200 bpm tempo, the music is covered with Reggae, Dub and Hip-Hop sampling, firing gun shots played in the background and constant wheels up happening every three minutes after a song is played. Thinking about it, it’s not really the best material to play in front of a child, but my old man did not care and wanted me to soak this all in, as he saw the bands I liked at the time such as Busted as pure shite
NARRATIVE Everything was glittering. The sun was just setting and there were varieties of pinks, oranges, yellows, and reds that all faded down to where the sun was hiding behind the Empire State Building. Bright lights from Jumbo Screen ads, and lights from windows shined all around the city, they all danced above. Even though it was late at night,there were even more people walking the streets then there was when I looked out this morning. I closed the trapdoor and climbed off the boxes that I stood on.
How do we make the leap from one language to another? What obstacles must we overcome to finally reach the proficiency of that of a native speaker? How can the languages we learn reform and influence our decisions, the very decisions that will shape who we become? In life, we like to believe it is our decisions that shape who we will become but some choices have been imposed on us like what language becomes our native tongue.
As time passed, I seemed caught in a rigid routine. When I woke, my crazies made it hard to shower. During the day, I worked as an accountant for two small businesses in town. After work I came home, got high, and sat alone in my house. At night I watched Johnny Carson, and on the weekends, I visited my Aunt Claudia.
Many people said that it was a terrible day. I arrived at school, before the reporting time. We picked up our shiny, silver and gold instruments and started to play for fun. I could hear people chatting, and section leaders yelling at students to not play, mostly brass instruments. Lucky, I’m not a brass player.
