Modern Day Syrian Arab Republic - 847 Words

Modern day Syria officially called the Syrian Arab Republic is located in southwest Asia. It is bordered by the Mediterranean Sea, Lebanon, Israel, Jordan, Iraq, and Asia. This country is about the size of the state of Washington at 76,500 square miles. In 1995 the populations was estimated at 14.2 million. There are many different ethnic and religion groups in Syria. Muslim is the primary religion, but there are many Christians and Jews. When it comes to ethnicity Arab is the majority with many Kurds, Armenians, Turkmen, and Assyrians. The primary language is Arabic, but many ethnic groups have their own languages as well. Syrians have their own dialect from the formal language, which divides them from other Arab-speaking people (Jones). Much of the immigration information on early Syrians to America such as the time periods and amount of people is difficult to acquire. Syria was called Greater Syria before 1920, which was part of the Ottoman Empire. Some immigrants may hav e been considered Turks or Lebanese at Ellis Island even though they came from Syria. It is more likely that Syrian and Arab immigration occurred after 1880. Also, many of the immigrants that came to American during and after the Civil War returned to their originating country after earning money (Jones). There are many reasons why people migrated from Syria to America. Many were seeking religious freedom, but the primary incentive was the American Dream. Most of these immigrants workedShow MoreRelatedThe Themes Of The Six Day War1608 Words   |  7 Pages The Six-Day War is a conflict that occurred in 1967, it went on from the 5th of June to the 10th of the same month. The war involved Israel, a newly established State, against the United Arab Republic (Egypt and Syria) and Jordan. After the war won by Israel, the Arab community, especially communities of the countries involved, were devastated by the defeat. Egyptian President Gamal Abdel Nasser who had made many promises to his people, later gave a speech informing them that they had lost the warRead MoreArab Nationalism and Syria Essay3250 Words   |  13 PagesDescription of Country Syria is a country located in the Middle East, bordering the Mediterranean Sea, between Lebanon and Turkey. The modern nation of Syria did not exist until the 20th century, although the idea of Syria has been in existence since at least the time of the Prophet Muhammad. The name â€Å"Syria†, was first used by the Greeks, historically identifying the region at the eastern end of the Mediterranean lying between Egypt and Asia Minor. Greater Syria, the larger region (calledRead MoreSyrian Arab Republic : The Country With Ancient And Unique Traditions2341 Words   |  10 PagesSyrian Arab Republic Being located in the Middle East, Syrian Arab Republic is truly considered to be the country with ancient and unique traditions longing back to the past centuries. The prominent cultural attractions include such key elements as national cuisine, clothing, and traditions. â€Å"The Syrians are gracious and welcoming hosts; you can expect to be treated like a person, and not just a tourist† (Standish, 2010, p.10). Tourists enjoyed the exotic culture of the Syrian people. On the otherRead MoreSoviet Penetration and Growth in Syria During the Late 1950s1406 Words   |  6 Pagesdomination in the area. From this pivotal event arose a zeitgeist in which Arab nationalism was widely championed most dominantly, perhaps, in Egypt and Syria and in parts of the Middle East in which it was not overtly heralded, it was acknowledged and respected as a means of enabling independent Middle Eastern regimes. The Soviet Unions ability then to support both Egypt and Syria in attempts to broaden t he emerging sentiment of Arab nationalism allowed it to play a considerable role in the politicalRead MoreThe Sunni Shia Conflict Essay1341 Words   |  6 PagesIslam and both have a historical based conflict going back to the death of the Prophet Muhammad and how Muslims should be governed. This conflict has caused tensions and violence to flare up throughout Islamic history. This conflict has carried into modern times and has becoming a rallying point for Muslim people calling for change with their government and across the Middle Eastern region. The Sunni Shia conflict is major division within Islam that has and continues to shape Islam and the Middle EastRead MoreEgyptian Cuisine During The Arab Republic Of Egypt871 Words   |  4 PagesPersians (modern-day Iraqis), Greeks, Romans (modern-day Italians), Arabs, and Ottomans (from modern-day Turkey) first influenced Egyptian cuisine thousands of years ago. More recently, the foods of other Arabic people in the Middle East such a s the Lebanese, Palestinians, Syrians, as well as some foods from Europe, have affected the Egyptian diet. †¢ Rice and bread remain staple foods, and  molokhiyya(a spinach-like vegetable) and  ful mudammas  (cooked, creamy fava beans), a national dish. †¢ The Arab RepublicRead MoreSunni Shia Conflict Essay857 Words   |  4 Pagesunder Sunni guidance. Iran is connected to Syria, Iraq, Lebanon, and involved with groups like Hezbollah under Shia guidance (Uncovered 2013). This grouping has been called the Shia Crescent by Jordan’s King Abdullah II and has been picked up by other Arab leaders (Manfreda, What is the Shiite Crescent? 2014). This idea is built on the premise that the Shiite dominated governments can come together to form political and religious ties that would weaken the Sunni states power. The crescent would run fromRead MoreThe United Arab Emirates Essay1306 Words   |  6 Pagescitizens and 7.8 million expatriates, majority of whom came from India, Pakistan, Philippines and other Arab countries. It was established in 1971 as a federation of seven emirates (states). Each emirate is governed by a monarch; together, along with some elected representatives, they form the Federal Supreme Council – leg islative organ. One of the monarchs is selected as the President of the United Arab Emirates. The UAE s economy is the most diversified in the Gulf and the wider region. There’s noRead MoreThe Civil War Of Bashar Al Assad And The Syrian Government1616 Words   |  7 PagesWhen ISIS commenced operations against Bashar Al Assad and the Syrian government, foreign volunteers rushed to join their ranks, 200 American citizens among them. The presence and national security implications of these fighters is well documented by the media, and their motivations are transparent and easily discernible through propaganda produced by ISIS. But what about the 108 Americans who have fought for the Kurds against ISIS? While their individual motivations are expressed through interviewsRead MoreThe birth of Hezbollah from the ruins of the Amal movement2374 Words   |  10 Pages†¢ The birth of Hezbollah from the ruins of the Amal movement When the Iranian Revolution succeeded in 1979, Iran wanted to gain the admiration and the support of Arab countries, benefiting in particular from the support by the Shah of Iran and his relationship with Israel before the collapse of his regime. On this very first day of the victory of the revolution, Iran was keen to extend its bonds with the Islamic world, and when this was not possible in most cases, because of many complex causes

Lord Of Scotland, By William Shakespeare - 1132 Words

Force and influence play major roles in the way humans shapes their lives. It’s a big component of why one has the destiny they do. In Frankenstein, by Mary Shelley, society’s opinion and rejection towards Frankenstein’s creature influenced him to build up hatred towards his creator and human beings. In Macbeth, by Shakespeare, Macbeth’s ambition is born when he is revealed of his prophecy that he will become King of Scotland. This ambition of becoming king causes a moral decline in Macbeth. Dorian Gray was also another tragic hero led to his own destruction by the influence of wanting everlasting youth and beauty. We decide our own destiny by the actions we take and what we let determine those decisions. Victor Frankenstein was born into a family with good morals and values. Despite his parents’ teachings, Victor first felt a spark of curiosity for the mysteries of natural science at an early age. He began to read books by alchemists like Cornelius Agrippa, Paracelsus, and Albertus Magnus which opened his mind to the dark sciences (36). It remained a secret desire to pursue these studies, but as he grew and went to Ingolstadt that changed. Professor Waldman, a chemistry teacher, inspired Victor to persevere his interests in the studies by giving a public speech (45). â€Å"Such were the professor’s words...unfold to the world the deepest mysteries of creation.† after hearing the speech, Victor was encouraged to fulfill his desires. Victor became so religiously involved in hisShow MoreRelatedWilliam Shakespeare s Macbeth 1492 Words   |  6 PagesFor my essay four I decided to read â€Å"Macbeth† by William Shakespeare. The first time I read it, I kind of understood what it was about, but didn’t really understand it that well. So after doing some research about William Shakespeare and â€Å"Macbeth,† I re-read â€Å"Macbeth,† as well as watched the movie. After this I wondered what William Shakespeare was trying to portray by writing â€Å"Macbeth†. At first I thought that he was trying to present the audience with an experience of himself or he was writingRead MoreNatasha Schuyler. Mr. Ortiz. English 12. 27 February 2017.Macbeth1329 Words   |  6 Pages27 February 2017 Macbeth Comparison Essay Akira Kurosawa’s 1957 film Throne of Blood is an adapted film version of William Shakespeare’s famous play, â€Å"The Tragedy of Macbeth†. Although the film was shaped after the play, there are many key differences between the plots, characters, and settings of the two. The most obvious difference being that Macbeth is set in medieval Scotland and Throne of Blood is set in 16th century Japan. The difference in setting is depicted through the drastically differentRead MoreWilliam Shakespeare Is A Well-Known And Recognized English1542 Words   |  7 PagesWilliam Shakespeare is a well-known and recognized English poet. 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While in the beginning Macbeth wants to just sit back and wait for fate to happenRead MoreThemes in Shakespeares Macbeth1043 Words   |  5 Pageshistory, written by famous playwright William Shakespeare. It is a story of betrayal, tyranny, murder and deadly ambition. These four themes make this tragedy a great resource for studying the darker side of humanity, and why we resort to such measures. While studying the play, I gained many insights into humanity, and will highlight three in-depth. Firstly, I saw the negative effects of uncontrolled ambition. MacBeth, the valiant warrior, hero of Scotland and the idol for young warriors, turnedRead MoreThe Tragedy Of Macbeth By Raphael Holinshed1242 Words   |  5 Pagesfacts about Macbeth solely based on Shakespeare s play? Shakespeare took great liberties with the material in Raphael Holinshed’s series called, Holinshed’s Chronicles, altering it to suit his dramatic purposes (McGraw, 306). 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Henry V is the last of four plays by William Shakespeare which tells of the rise of the house of Lancaster. It was written in 1599 but is set in 1415, two years after the death of his father and Henry has made a favourable impression on his courtiers and the clergy. He has constantly been encouraged to seizeRead MoreA Report On Police Report1071 Words   |  5 PagesPolice Report Case Number: 010147858 Date: November 12th 1556 Reporting Officer: Deputy M. Boulanger Prepared By: Aden Cheryl Ntawutarama Incident Type: Murder Weapon/Objects Used: Dagger Address of Occurrence: Inverness Castle, Scotland Witnesses: No witnesses were present during the murder. Mr. Macduff and Lennox were the first to arrive at the scene and call The authorities after finding the dead body. Suspects: Malcolm: Son of the victim. Male, 20,

The Twilight Saga 2 New Moon Chapter 4 WAKING UP Free Essays

string(30) " pulled out my Calculus book\." TIME PASSES. EVEN WHEN IT SEEMS IMPOSSIBLE. EVEN when each tick of the second hand aches like the pulse of blood behind a bruise. We will write a custom essay sample on The Twilight Saga 2: New Moon Chapter 4 WAKING UP or any similar topic only for you Order Now It passes unevenly, in strange lurches and dragging lulls, but pass it does. Even for me. CHARLIE’S FIST CAME DOWN ON THE TABLE. â€Å"THAT’S IT, Bella! I’m sending you home.† I looked up from my cereal, which I was pondering rather than eating, and stared at Charlie in shock. I hadn’t been following the conversationactually, I hadn’t been aware that we were having a conversationand I wasn’t sure what he meant. â€Å"I am home,† I mumbled, confused. â€Å"I’m sending you to Renee, to Jacksonville,† he clarified. Charlie watched with exasperation as I slowly grasped the meaning of his words. â€Å"What did I do?† I felt my face crumple. It was so unfair. My behavior had been above reproach for the past four months. After that first week, which neither of us ever mentioned, I hadn’t missed a day of school or work. My grades were perfect. I never broke curfewI never went anywhere from which to break curfew in the first place. I only very rarely served leftovers. Charlie was scowling. â€Å"You didn’t do anything. That’s the problem. You never do anything.† â€Å"You want me to get into trouble?† I wondered, my eyebrows pulling together in mystification. I made an effort to pay attention. It wasn’t easy. I was so used to tuning everything out, my ears felt stopped up. â€Å"Trouble would be better than this this moping around all the time!† That stung a bit. I’d been careful to avoid all forms of moroseness, moping included. â€Å"I am not moping around.† â€Å"Wrong word,† he grudgingly conceded. â€Å"Moping would be betterthat would be doing something. You’re just lifeless, Bella. I think that’s the word I want.† This accusation struck home. I sighed and tried to put some animation into my response. â€Å"I’m sorry, Dad.† My apology sounded a little flat, even to me. I’d thought I’d been fooling him. Keeping Charlie from suffering was the whole point of all this effort. How depressing to think that the effort had been wasted. â€Å"I don’t want you to apologize.† I sighed. â€Å"Then tell me what you do want me to do.† â€Å"Bella,† he hesitated, scrutinizing my reaction to his next words. â€Å"Honey, you’re not the first person to go through this kind of thing, you know.† â€Å"I know that.† My accompanying grimace was limp and unimpressive. â€Å"Listen, honey. I think thatthat maybe you need some help.† â€Å"Help?† He paused, searching for the words again. â€Å"When your mother left,† he began, frowning, â€Å"and took you with her.† He inhaled deeply. â€Å"Well, that was a really bad time for me.† â€Å"I know, Dad,† I mumbled. â€Å"But I handled it,† he pointed out. â€Å"Honey, you’re not handling it. I waited, I hoped it would get better.† He stared at me and I looked down quickly. â€Å"I think we both know it’s not getting better.† â€Å"I’mfine.† He ignored me. â€Å"Maybe, well, maybe if you talked to someone about it. A professional.† â€Å"You want me to see a shrink?† My voice was a shade sharper as I realized what he was getting at. â€Å"Maybe it would help.† â€Å"And maybe it wouldn’t help one little bit.† I didn’t know much about psychoanalysis, but I was pretty sure that it didn’t work unless the subject was relatively honest. Sure, I could tell the truthif I wanted to spend the rest of my life in a padded cell. He examined my obstinate expression, and switched to another line of attack. â€Å"It’s beyond me, Bella. Maybe your mother† â€Å"Look,† I said in a flat voice. â€Å"I’ll go out tonight, if you want. I’ll call Jess or Angela.† â€Å"That’s not what I want,† he argued, frustrated. â€Å"I don’t think I can live through seeing you try harder. I’ve never seen anyone trying so hard. It hurts to watch.† I pretended to be dense, looking down at the table. â€Å"I don’t understand, Dad. First you’re mad because I’m not doing anything, and then you say you don’t want me to go out.† â€Å"I want you to be happyno, not even that much. I just want you not to be miserable. I think you’ll have a better chance if you get out of Forks.† My eyes flashed up with the first small spark of feeling I’d had in too long to contemplate. â€Å"I’m not leaving,† I said. â€Å"Why not?† he demanded. â€Å"I’m in my last semester of schoolit would screw everything up.† â€Å"You’re a good studentyou’ll figure it out.† â€Å"I don’t want to crowd Mom and Phil.† â€Å"Your mother’s been dying to have you back.† â€Å"Florida is too hot.† His fist came down on the table again. â€Å"We both know what’s really going on here, Bella, and it’s not good for you.† He took a deep breath. â€Å"It’s been months. No calls, no letters, no contact. You can’t keep waitingforhim.† I glowered at him. The heat almost, but not quite, reached my face. It had been a long time since I’d blushed with any emotion. This whole subject was utterly forbidden, as he was well aware. â€Å"I’m not waiting for anything. I don’t expect anything,† I said in a low monotone. â€Å"Bella,† Charlie began, his voice thick. â€Å"I have to get to school,† I interrupted, standing up and yanking my untouched breakfast from the table. I dumped my bowl in the sink without pausing to wash it out. I couldn’t deal with any more conversation. â€Å"I’ll make plans with Jessica,† I called over my shoulder as I strapped on my school bag, not meeting his eyes. â€Å"Maybe I won’t be home for dinner. We’ll go to Port Angeles and watch a movie.† I was out the front door before he could react. In my haste to get away from Charlie, I ended up being one of the first ones to school. The plus side was that I got a really good parking spot. The downside was that I had free time on my hands, and I tried to avoid free time at all costs. Quickly, before I could start thinking about Charlie’s accusations, I pulled out my Calculus book. You read "The Twilight Saga 2: New Moon Chapter 4 WAKING UP" in category "Essay examples" I flipped it open to the section we should be starting today, and tried to make sense of it. Reading math was even worse than listening to it, but I was getting better at it. In the last several months, I’d spent ten times the amount of time on Calculus than I’d ever spent on math before. As a result, I was managing to keep in the range of a low A. I knew Mr. Varner felt my improvement was all due to his superior teaching methods. And if that made him happy, I wasn’t going to burst his bubble. I forced myself to keep at it until the parking lot was full, and I ended up rushing to English. We were working on Animal Farm, an easy subject matter. I didn’t mind communism; it was a welcome change from the exhausting romances that made up most of the curriculum. I settled into my seat, pleased by the distraction of Mr. Berty’s lecture. Time moved easily while I was in school. The bell rang all too soon. I started repacking my bag. â€Å"Bella?† I recognized Mike’s voice, and I knew what his next words would be before he said them. â€Å"Are you working tomorrow?† I looked up. He was leaning across the aisle with an anxious expression. Every Friday he asked me the same question. Never mind that I hadn’t taken so much as a sick day. Well, with one exception, months ago. But he had no reason to look at me with such concern. I was a model employee. â€Å"Tomorrow is Saturday, isn’t it?† I said. Having just had it pointed out to me by Charlie, I realized how lifeless my voice really sounded. â€Å"Yeah, it is,† he agreed. â€Å"See you in Spanish.† He waved once before turning his back. He didn’t bother walking me to class anymore. I trudged off to Calculus with a grim expression. This was the class where I sat next to Jessica. It had been weeks, maybe months, since Jess had even greeted me when I passed her in the hall. I knew I had offended her with my antisocial behavior, and she was sulking. It wasn’t going to be easy to talk to her nowespecially to ask her to do me a favor. I weighed my options carefully as I loitered outside the classroom, procrastinating. I wasn’t about to face Charlie again without some kind of social interaction to report. I knew I couldn’t lie, though the thought of driving to Port Angeles and back alonebeing sure my odometer reflected the correct mileage, just in case he checkedwas very tempting. Jessica’s mom was the biggest gossip in town, and Charlie was bound to run into Mrs. Stanley sooner rather than later. When he did, he would no doubt mention the trip. Lying was out. With a sigh, I shoved the door open. Mr. Varner gave me a dark lookhe’d already started the lecture. I hurried to my seat. Jessica didn’t look up as I sat next to her. I was glad that I had fifty minutes to mentally prepare myself. This class flew by even faster than English. A small part of that speed was due to my goody-goody preparation this morning in the truckbut mostly it stemmed from the fact that time always sped up when I was looking forward to something unpleasant. I grimaced when Mr. Varner dismissed the class five minutes early. He smiled like he was being nice. â€Å"Jess?† My nose wrinkled as I cringed, waiting for her to turn on me. She twisted in her seat to face me, eyeing me incredulously. â€Å"Are you talking to me, Bella?† â€Å"Of course.† I widened my eyes to suggest innocence. â€Å"What? Do you need help with Calculus?† Her tone was a tad sour. â€Å"No.† I shook my head. â€Å"Actually, I wanted to know if you would go to the movies with me tonight? I really need a girls’ night out.† The words sounded stiff, like badly delivered lines, and she looked suspicious. â€Å"Why are you asking me?† she asked, still unfriendly. â€Å"You’re the first person I think of when I want girl time.† I smiled, and I hoped the smile looked genuine. It was probably true. She was at least the first person I thought of when I wanted to avoid Charlie. It amounted to the same thing. She seemed a little mollified. â€Å"Well, I don’t know.† â€Å"Do you have plans?† â€Å"No I guess I can go with you. What do you want to see?† â€Å"I’m not sure what’s playing,† I hedged. This was the tricky part. I racked my brain for a cluehadn’t I heard someone talk about a movie recently? Seen a poster? â€Å"How about that one with the female president?† She looked at me oddly. â€Å"Bella, that one’s been out of the theater forever.† â€Å"Oh.† I frowned. â€Å"Is there anything you’d like to see?† Jessica’s natural bubbliness started to leak out in spite of herself as she thought out loud. â€Å"Well, there’s that new romantic comedy that’s getting great reviews. I want to see that one. And my dad just saw Dead End and he really liked it.† I grasped at the promising title. â€Å"What’s that one about?† â€Å"Zombies or something. He said it was the scariest thing he’d seen in years.† â€Å"That sounds perfect.† I’d rather deal with real zombies than watch a romance. â€Å"Okay.† She seemed surprised by my response. I tried to remember if I liked scary movies, but I wasn’t sure. â€Å"Do you want me to pick you up after school?† she offered. â€Å"Sure.† Jessica smiled at me with tentative friendliness before she left. My answering smile was just a little late, but I thought that she saw it. The rest of the day passed quickly, my thoughts focused on planning for tonight. I knew from experience that once I got Jessica talking, I would be able to get away with a few mumbled responses at the appropriate moments. Only minimal interaction would be required. The thick haze that blurred my days now was sometimes confusing. I was surprised when I found myself in my room, not clearly remembering the drive home from school or even opening the front door. But that didn’t matter. Losing track of time was the most I asked from life. I didn’t fight the haze as I turned to my closet. The numbness was more essential in some places than in others. I barely registered what I was looking at as I slid the door aside to reveal the pile of rubbish on the left side of my closet, under the clothes I never wore. My eyes did not stray toward the black garbage bag that held my present from that last birthday, did not see the shape of the stereo where it strained against the black plastic; I didn’t think of the bloody mess my nails had been when I’d finished clawing it out of the dashboard. I yanked the old purse I rarely used off the nail it hung from, and shoved the door shut. Just then I heard a horn honking. I swiftly traded my wallet from my schoolbag into the purse. I was in a hurry, as if rushing would somehow make the night pass more quickly. I glanced at myself in the hall mirror before I opened the door, arranging my features carefully into a smile and trying to hold them there. â€Å"Thanks for coming with me tonight,† I told Jess as I climbed into the passenger seat, trying to infuse my tone with gratitude. It had been a while since I’d really thought about what I was saying to anyone besides Charlie. Jess was harder. I wasn’t sure which were the right emotions to fake. â€Å"Sure. So, what brought this on?† Jess wondered as she drove down my street. â€Å"Brought what on?† â€Å"Why did you suddenly decide to go out?† It sounded like she changed her question halfway through. I shrugged. â€Å"Just needed a change.† I recognized the song on the radio then, and quickly reached for the dial. â€Å"Do you mind?† I asked. â€Å"No, go ahead.† I scanned through the stations until I found one that was harmless. I peeked at Jess’s expression as the new music filled the car. Her eyes squinted. â€Å"Since when do you listen to rap?† â€Å"I don’t know,† I said. â€Å"A while.† â€Å"You like this?† she asked doubtfully. â€Å"Sure.† It would be much too hard to interact with Jessica normally if I had to work to tune out the music, too. I nodded my head, hoping I was in time with the beat. â€Å"Okay† She stared out the windshield with wide eyes. â€Å"So what’s up with you and Mike these days?† I asked quickly. â€Å"You see him more than I do.† The question hadn’t started her talking like I’d hoped it would. â€Å"It’s hard to talk at work,† I mumbled, and then I tried again. â€Å"Have you been out with anyone lately?† â€Å"Not really. I go out with Conner sometimes. I went out with Eric two weeks ago.† She rolled her eyes, and I sensed a long story. I clutched at the opportunity. â€Å"Eric Yorkie? Who asked who?† She groaned, getting more animated. â€Å"He did, of course! I couldn’t think of a nice way to say no.† â€Å"Where did he take you?† I demanded, knowing she would interpret my eagerness as interest. â€Å"Tell me all about it.† She launched into her tale, and I settled into my seat, more comfortable now. I paid strict attention, murmuring in sympathy and gasping in horror as called for. When she was finished with her Eric story, she continued into a Conner comparison without any prodding. The movie was playing early, so Jess thought we should hit the twilight showing and eat later. I was happy to go along with whatever she wanted; after all, I was getting what I wantedCharlie off my back. I kept Jess talking through the previews, so I could ignore them more easily. But I got nervous when the movie started. A young couple was walking along a beach, swinging hands and discussing their mutual affection with gooey falseness. I resisted the urge to cover my ears and start humming. I had not bargained for a romance. â€Å"I thought we picked the zombie movie,† I hissed to Jessica. â€Å"This is the zombie movie.† â€Å"Then why isn’t anyone getting eaten?† I asked desperately. She looked at me with wide eyes that were almost alarmed. â€Å"I’m sure that part’s coming,† she whispered. â€Å"I’m getting popcorn. Do you want any?† â€Å"No, thanks.† Someone shushed us from behind. I took my time at the concession counter, watching the clock and debating what percentage of a ninety-minute movie could be spent on romantic exposition. I decided ten minutes was more than enough, but I paused just inside the theater doors to be sure. I could hear horrified screams blaring from the speakers, so I knew I’d waited long enough. â€Å"You missed everything,† Jess murmured when I slid back into my seat. â€Å"Almost everyone is a zombie now.† â€Å"Long line.† I offered her some popcorn. She took a handful. The rest of the movie was comprised of gruesome zombie attacks and endless screaming from the handful of people left alive, their numbers dwindling quickly. I would have thought there was nothing in that to disturb me. But I felt uneasy, and I wasn’t sure why at first. It wasn’t until almost the very end, as I watched a haggard zombie shambling after the last shrieking survivor, that I realized what the problem was. The scene kept cutting between the horrified face of the heroine, and the dead, emotionless face of her pursuer, back and forth as it closed the distance. And I realized which one resembled me the most. I stood up. â€Å"Where are you going? There’s, like, two minutes left,† Jess hissed. â€Å"I need a drink,† I muttered as I raced for the exit. I sat down on the bench outside the theater door and tried very hard not to think of the irony. But it was ironic, all things considered, that, in the end, I would wind up as a zombie. I hadn’t seen that one coming. Not that I hadn’t dreamed of becoming a mythical monster oncejust never a grotesque, animated corpse. I shook my head to dislodge that train of thought, feeling panicky. I couldn’t afford to think about what I’d once dreamed of. It was depressing to realize that I wasn’t the heroine anymore, that my story was over. Jessica came out of the theater doors and hesitated, probably wondering where the best place was to search for me. When she saw me, she looked relieved, but only for a moment. Then she looked irritated. â€Å"Was the movie too scary for you?† she wondered. â€Å"Yeah,† I agreed. â€Å"I guess I’m just a coward.† â€Å"That’s funny.† She frowned. â€Å"I didn’t think you were scaredI was screaming all the time, but I didn’t hear you scream once. So I didn’t know why you left.† I shrugged. â€Å"Just scared.† She relaxed a little. â€Å"That was the scariest movie I think I’ve ever seen. I’ll bet we’re going to have nightmares tonight.† â€Å"No doubt about that,† I said, trying to keep my voice normal. It was inevitable that I would have nightmares, but they wouldn’t be about zombies. Her eyes flashed to my face and away. Maybe I hadn’t succeeded with the normal voice. â€Å"Where do you want to eat?† Jess asked. â€Å"I don’t care.† â€Å"Okay.† Jess started talking about the male lead in the movie as we walked. I nodded as she gushed over his hotness, unable to remember seeing a non-zombie man at all. I didn’t watch where Jessica was leading me. I was only vaguely aware that it was dark and quieter now. It took me longer than it should have to realize why it was quiet. Jessica had stopped babbling. I looked at her apologetically, hoping I hadn’t hurt her feelings. Jessica wasn’t looking at me. Her face was tense; she stared straight ahead and walked fast. As I watched, her eyes darted quickly to the right, across the road, and back again. I glanced around myself for the first time. We were on a short stretch of unlit sidewalk. The little shops lining the street were all locked up for the night, windows black. Half a block ahead, the streetlights started up again, and I could see, farther down, the bright golden arches of the McDonald’s she was heading for. Across the street there was one open business. The windows were covered from inside and there were neon signs, advertisements for different brands of beer, glowing in front of them. The biggest sign, in brilliant green, was the name of the barOne-Eyed Pete’s. I wondered if there was some pirate theme not visible from outside. The metal door was propped open; it was dimly lit inside, and the low murmur of many voices and the sound of ice clinking in glasses floated across the street. Lounging against the wall beside the door were four men. I glanced back at Jessica. Her eyes were fixed on the path ahead and she moved briskly. She didn’t look frightenedjust wary, trying to not attract attention to herself. I paused without thinking, looking back at the four men with a strong sense of dj vu. This was a different road, a different night, but the scene was so much the same. One of them was even short and dark. As I stopped and turned toward them, that one looked up in interest. I stared back at him, frozen on the sidewalk. â€Å"Bella?† Jess whispered. â€Å"What are you doing?† I shook my head, not sure myself. â€Å"I think I know them† I muttered. What was I doing? I should be running from this memory as fast as I could, blocking the image of the four lounging men from my mind, protecting myself with the numbness I couldn’t function without. Why was I stepping, dazed, into the street? It seemed too coincidental that I should be in Port Angeles with Jessica, on a dark street even. My eyes focused on the short one, trying to match the features to my memory of the man who had threatened me that night almost a year ago. I wondered if there was any way I would recognize the man, if it was really him. That particular part of that particular evening was just a blur. My body remembered it better than my mind did; the tension in my legs as I tried to decide whether to run or to stand my ground, the dryness in my throat as I struggled to build a decent scream, the tight stretch of skin across my knuckles as I clenched my hands into fists, the chills on the back of my neck when the dark-haired man called me â€Å"sugar.† There was an indefinite, implied kind of menace to these men that had nothing to do with that other night. It sprung from the fact that they were strangers, and it was dark here, and they outnumbered usnothing more specific than that. But it was enough that Jessica’s voice cracked in panic as she called after me. â€Å"Bella, come on!† I ignored her, walking slowly forward without ever making the conscious decision to move my feet. I didn’t understand why, but the nebulous threat the men presented drew me toward them. It was a senseless impulse, but I hadn’t felt any kind of impulse in so long I followed it. Something unfamiliar beat through my veins. Adrenaline, I realized, long absent from my system, drumming my pulse faster and fighting against the lack of sensation. It was strangewhy the adrenaline when there was no fear? It was almost as if it were an echo of the last time I’d stood like this, on a dark street in Port Angeles with strangers. I saw no reason for fear. I couldn’t imagine anything in the world that there was left to be afraid of, not physically at least. One of the few advantages of losing everything. I was halfway across the street when Jess caught up to me and grabbed my arm. â€Å"Bella! You can’t go in a bar!† she hissed. â€Å"I’m not going in,† I said absently, shaking her hand off. â€Å"I just want to see something† â€Å"Are you crazy?† she whispered. â€Å"Are you suicidal?† That question caught my attention, and my eyes focused on her. â€Å"No, I’m not.† My voice sounded defensive, but it was true. I wasn’t suicidal. Even in the beginning, when death unquestionably would have been a relief, I didn’t consider it. I owed too much to Charlie. I felt too responsible for Renee. I had to think of them. And I’d made a promise not to do anything stupid or reckless. For all those reasons, I was still breathing. Remembering that promise. I felt a twinge of guilt. but what I was doing fight now didn’t really count. It wasn’t like I was taking a blade to my wrists. Jess’s eyes were round, her mouth hung open. Her question about suicide had been rhetorical, I realized too late. â€Å"Go eat,† I encouraged her, waving toward the fast food. I didn’t like the way she looked at me. â€Å"I’ll catch up in a minute.† I turned away from her, back to the men who were watching us with amused, curious eyes. â€Å"Bella, stop this right now!† My muscles locked into place, froze me where I stood. Because it wasn’t Jessica’s voice that rebuked me now. It was a furious voice, a familiar voice, a beautiful voicesoft like velvet even though it was irate. It was his voiceI was exceptionally careful not to think his nameand I was surprised that the sound of it did not knock me to my knees, did not curl me onto the pavement in a torture of loss. But there was no pain, none at all. In the instant that I heard his voice, everything was very clear. Like my head had suddenly surfaced out of some dark pool. I was more aware of everythingsight, sound, the feel of the cold air that I hadn’t noticed was blowing sharply against my face, the smells coming from the open bar door. I looked around myself in shock. â€Å"Go back to Jessica,† the lovely voice ordered, still angry. â€Å"You promisednothing stupid.† I was alone. Jessica stood a few feet from me, staring at me with frightened eyes. Against the wall, the strangers watched, confused, wondering what I was doing, standing there motionless in the middle of the street. I shook my head, trying to understand. I knew he wasn’t there, and yet, he felt improbably close, close for the first time since since the end. The anger in his voice was concern, the same anger that was once very familiarsomething I hadn’t heard in what felt like a lifetime. â€Å"Keep your promise.† The voice was slipping away, as if the volume was being turned down on a radio. I began to suspect that I was having some kind of hallucination. Triggered, no doubt, by the memorythe deja vu, the strange familiarity of the situation. I ran through the possibilities quickly in my head. Option one: I was crazy. That was the layman’s term for people who heard voices in their heads. Possible. Option two: My subconscious mind was giving me what it thought I wanted. This was wish fulfillmenta momentary relief from pain by embracing the incorrect idea that he cared whether I lived or died. Projecting what he would have said if A) he were here, and B) he would be in any way bothered by something bad happening to me. Probable. I could see no option three, so I hoped it was the second option and this was just my subconscious running amuck, rather than something I would need to be hospitalized for. My reaction was hardly sane, thoughI was grateful. The sound of his voice was something that I’d feared I was losing, and so, more than anything else, I felt overwhelming gratitude that my unconscious mind had held onto that sound better than my conscious one had. I was not allowed to think of him. That was something I tried to be very strict about. Of course I slipped; I was only human. But I was getting better, and so the pain was something I could avoid for days at a time now. The tradeoff was the never-ending numbness. Between pain and nothing, I’d chosen nothing. I waited for the pain now. I was not numbmy senses felt unusually intense after so many months of the hazebut the normal pain held off. The only ache was the disappointment that his voice was fading. There was a second of choice. The wise thing would be to run away from this potentially destructiveand certainly mentally unstabledevelopment. It would be stupid to encourage hallucinations. But his voice was fading. I took another step forward, testing. â€Å"Bella, turn around,† he growled. I sighed in relief. The anger was what I wanted to hearfalse, fabricated evidence that he cared, a dubious gift from my subconscious. Very few seconds had passed while I sorted this all out. My little audience watched, curious. It probably looked like I was just dithering over whether or not I was going to approach them. How could they guess that I was standing there enjoying an unexpected moment of insanity? â€Å"Hi,† one of the men called, his tone both confident and a bit sarcastic. He was fair-skinned and fair-haired, and he stood with the assurance of someone who thought of himself as quite good-looking. I couldn’t tell whether he was or not. I was prejudiced. The voice in my head answered with an exquisite snarl. I smiled, and the confident man seemed to take that as encouragement. â€Å"Can I help you with something? You look lost.† He grinned and winked. I stepped carefully over the gutter, running with water that was black in the darkness. â€Å"No. I’m not lost.† Now that I was closerand my eyes felt oddly in focusI analyzed the short, dark man’s face. It was not familiar in any way. I suffered a curious sensation of disappointment that this was not the terrible man who had tried to hurt me almost a year ago. The voice in my head was quiet now. The short man noticed my stare. â€Å"Can I buy you a drink?† he offered, nervous, seeming flattered that I’d singled him out to stare at. â€Å"I’m too young,† I answered automatically. He was baffledwondering why I had approached them. I felt compelled to explain. â€Å"From across the street, you looked like someone I knew. Sorry, my mistake.† The threat that had pulled me across the street had evaporated. These were not the dangerous men I remembered. They were probably nice guys. Safe. I lost interest. â€Å"That’s okay,† the confident blonde said. â€Å"Stay and hang out with us.† â€Å"Thanks, but I can’t.† Jessica was hesitating in the middle of the street, her eyes wide with outrage and betrayal. â€Å"Oh, just a few minutes.† I shook my head, and turned to rejoin Jessica. â€Å"Let’s go eat,† I suggested, barely glancing at her. Though I appeared to be, for the moment, freed of the zombie abstraction, I was just as distant. My mind was preoccupied. The safe, numb deadness did not come back, and I got more anxious with every minute that passed without its return. â€Å"What were you thinking?† Jessica snapped. â€Å"You don’t know themthey could have been psychopaths!† I shrugged, wishing she would let it go. â€Å"I just thought I knew the one guy.† â€Å"You are so odd, Bella Swan. I feel like I don’t know who you are.† â€Å"Sorry.† I didn’t know what else to say to that. We walked to McDonald’s in silence. I’d bet that she was wishing we’d taken her car instead of walking the short distance from the theater, so that she could use the drive-through. She was just as anxious now for this evening to be over as I had been from the beginning. I tried to start a conversation a few times while we ate, but Jessica was not cooperative. I must have really offended her. When we go back in the car, she tuned the stereo back to her favorite station and turned the volume too loud to allow easy conversation. I didn’t have to struggle as hard as usual to ignore the music. Even though my mind, for once, was not carefully numb and empty, I had too much to think about to hear the lyrics. I waited for the numbness to return, or the pain. Because the pain must be coming. I’d broken my personal rules. Instead of shying away from the memories, I’d walked forward and greeted them. I’d heard his voice, so clearly, in my head. That was going to cost me, I was sure of it. Especially if I couldn’t reclaim the haze to protect myself. I felt too alert, and that frightened me. But relief was still the strongest emotion in my bodyrelief that came from the very core of my being. As much as I struggled not to think of him, I did not struggle to forget. I worriedlate in the night, when the exhaustion of sleep deprivation broke down my defensesthat it was all slipping away. That my mind was a sieve, and I would someday not be able to remember the precise color of his eyes, the feel of his cool skin, or the texture of his voice. I could not think of them, but I must remember them. Because there was just one thing that I had to believe to be able to liveI had to know that he existed. That was all. Everything else I could endure. So long as he existed. That’s why I was more trapped in Forks than I ever had been before, why I’d fought with Charlie when he suggested a change. Honestly, it shouldn’t matter; no one was ever coming back here. But if I were to go to Jacksonville, or anywhere else bright and unfamiliar, how could I be sure he was real? In a place where I could never imagine him, the conviction might fade and that I could not live through. Forbidden to remember, terrified to forget; it was a hard line to walk. I was surprised when Jessica stopped the car in front of my house. The ride had not taken long, but, short as it seemed, I wouldn’t have thought that Jessica could go that long without speaking. â€Å"Thanks for going out with me, Jess,† I said as I opened my door. â€Å"That wasfun.† I hoped that fun was the appropriate word. â€Å"Sure,† she muttered. â€Å"I’m sorry about after the movie.† â€Å"Whatever, Bella.† She glared out the windshield instead of looking at me. She seemed to be growing angrier rather than getting over it. â€Å"See you Monday?† â€Å"Yeah. Bye.† I gave up and shut the door. She drove away, still without looking at me. I’d forgotten her by the time I was inside. Charlie was waiting for me in the middle of the hall, his arms folded tight over his chest with his hands balled into fists. â€Å"Hey, Dad,† I said absentmindedly as I ducked around Charlie, heading for the stairs. I’d been thinking about him for too long, and I wanted to be upstairs before it caught up with me. â€Å"Where have you been?† Charlie demanded. I looked at my dad, surprised. â€Å"I went to a movie in Port Angeles with Jessica. Like I told you this morning.† â€Å"Humph,† he grunted. â€Å"Is that okay?† He studied my face, his eyes widening as if he saw something unexpected. â€Å"Yeah, that’s fine. Did you havefun?† â€Å"Sure,† I said. â€Å"We watched zombies eat people. It was great.† His eyes narrowed. â€Å"‘Night, Dad.† He let me pass. I hurried to my room. I lay in my bed a few minutes later, resigned as the pain finally made its appearance. It was a crippling thing, this sensation that a huge hole had been punched through my chest, excising my most vital organs and leaving ragged, unhealed gashes around the edges that continued to throb and bleed despite the passage of time. Rationally, I knew my lungs must still be intact, yet I gasped for air and my head spun like my efforts yielded me nothing. My heart must have been beating, too, but I couldn’t hear the sound of my pulse in my ears; my hands felt blue with cold. I curled inward, hugging my ribs to hold myself together. I scrambled for my numbness, my denial, but it evaded me. And yet, I found I could survive. I was alert, I felt the painthe aching loss that radiated out from my chest, sending wracking waves of hurt through my limbs and headbut it was manageable. I could live through it. It didn’t feel like the pain had weakened over time, rather that I’d grown strong enough to bear it. Whatever it was that had happened tonightand whether it was the zombies, the adrenaline, or the hallucinations that were responsibleit had woken me up. For the first time in a long time, I didn’t know what to expect in the morning. How to cite The Twilight Saga 2: New Moon Chapter 4 WAKING UP, Essay examples

Being The One Who Cares A Good Teacher Essay Example For Students

Being The One Who Cares: A Good Teacher Essay Being The One Who Cares: A Good TeacherIn order to be a good teacher I feel that one needs to be open andunderstanding of different events that might take place in the classroom. Students today are not treated the same as they were during the beginning ofeducation and we have a variety of students which attend our public schools. There are girls, blacks, whites, Hispanic, and Native Americans and a number ofother different races participating in our classroom studies. This is awonderful accomplishment in our society. The variety of backgrounds which arefound in the classrooms gives our young students a better understanding ofdifferent races and nationalities. However, with growth there are alwaysproblems. Because there are students from different backgrounds, we must caterto all their needs. There may be students in our classroom with completelydifferent religious beliefs or no beliefs at all. Teachers must understand eachstudent and their personal beliefs to make their learning environmentcomfortable. Every aspect of our society has changed, we live in a morepromiscuous society. Our children are having children. We as teachers musteducate our student to the deadly effects of unprotected sex. I feel asteachers earn tenure, they are more likely to effect the students in a morepersonably manner. Having a stable and open classroom, I feel the students willlearn more and be a respected citizen in our society. In this project I willdiscuss, prayer in the classroom, AIDS and tenure. Prayer in school is a controversial issue that must be considered anddealt with as quickly as possible. All people should feel free to worship andhave loyalties to whichever religion they choose. If no religion is chosen,then the feelings of the person should be considered as will. Everyone has anopinion on this subject, but everyones opinion should not become an issue. Rather, the opinion should be offered in order to be accepted or rejected by theindividual. I feel that a time should be set aside during the day to allow formediation or introspection. This time could be used by the students forthinking, prayer, meditation or for private reflection. Therefore, those whochoose to participate can do so privately. Since it is a quiet time, no religionis stressed, so whichever seems to be more important to the student, the studenthas the option to choose. An alternative to quiet time is to rotate prayers among all religiousfaiths with equal time being provided for all groups and religions represented. The schedule may be rotated daily or weekly between such choices as Christian,Jewish, and Catholic. No shame should be placed on the students because of theirpersonal beliefs, and adults must never censure, or in any way make light of astudents belief. Also, no student should be forced into or required toparticipate; all children should be allowed to either join in, or to sit quietlyduring this time. Like most things, this can be used as a positive tool forteaching respect for others. I feel this issue should be decided by individual school systems and notmandated by the courts. However, if the school does choose to have a religiousmoment, all religions should be represented. This issue is a very private one,and no one should be judged by his or her feelings. Also, no student shouldever be made to feel less than acceptable for their personal belief. Teachersshould keep in mind that not all children share the same beliefs, therefore, ifone or more students choose not to participate in the prayer or quiet time,alternatives should be offered to them. Reading may help the others to be quietwhile those who choose to participate do so. If a child chooses not toparticipate, it should not become an issue between the student and the class orthe student and the teacher. No student should ever be held up to ridicule. .ub438c212f15f9dabea5f02f9f0d2dfd6 , .ub438c212f15f9dabea5f02f9f0d2dfd6 .postImageUrl , .ub438c212f15f9dabea5f02f9f0d2dfd6 .centered-text-area { min-height: 80px; position: relative; } .ub438c212f15f9dabea5f02f9f0d2dfd6 , .ub438c212f15f9dabea5f02f9f0d2dfd6:hover , .ub438c212f15f9dabea5f02f9f0d2dfd6:visited , .ub438c212f15f9dabea5f02f9f0d2dfd6:active { border:0!important; } .ub438c212f15f9dabea5f02f9f0d2dfd6 .clearfix:after { content: ""; display: table; clear: both; } .ub438c212f15f9dabea5f02f9f0d2dfd6 { display: block; transition: background-color 250ms; webkit-transition: background-color 250ms; width: 100%; opacity: 1; transition: opacity 250ms; webkit-transition: opacity 250ms; background-color: #95A5A6; } .ub438c212f15f9dabea5f02f9f0d2dfd6:active , .ub438c212f15f9dabea5f02f9f0d2dfd6:hover { opacity: 1; transition: opacity 250ms; webkit-transition: opacity 250ms; background-color: #2C3E50; } .ub438c212f15f9dabea5f02f9f0d2dfd6 .centered-text-area { width: 100%; position: relative ; } .ub438c212f15f9dabea5f02f9f0d2dfd6 .ctaText { border-bottom: 0 solid #fff; color: #2980B9; font-size: 16px; font-weight: bold; margin: 0; padding: 0; text-decoration: underline; } .ub438c212f15f9dabea5f02f9f0d2dfd6 .postTitle { color: #FFFFFF; font-size: 16px; font-weight: 600; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 100%; } .ub438c212f15f9dabea5f02f9f0d2dfd6 .ctaButton { background-color: #7F8C8D!important; color: #2980B9; border: none; border-radius: 3px; box-shadow: none; font-size: 14px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 26px; moz-border-radius: 3px; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-shadow: none; width: 80px; min-height: 80px; background: url(https://artscolumbia.org/wp-content/plugins/intelly-related-posts/assets/images/simple-arrow.png)no-repeat; position: absolute; right: 0; top: 0; } .ub438c212f15f9dabea5f02f9f0d2dfd6:hover .ctaButton { background-color: #34495E!important; } .ub438c212f15f9dabea5f02f9f0d2dfd6 .centered-text { display: table; height: 80px; padding-left : 18px; top: 0; } .ub438c212f15f9dabea5f02f9f0d2dfd6 .ub438c212f15f9dabea5f02f9f0d2dfd6-content { display: table-cell; margin: 0; padding: 0; padding-right: 108px; position: relative; vertical-align: middle; width: 100%; } .ub438c212f15f9dabea5f02f9f0d2dfd6:after { content: ""; display: block; clear: both; } READ: Veteran interview EssayThe teacher should try to make all of the students feel as comfortable aspossible whether they participate or not. If the subject is handled properly, this may help contributed to abetter understanding of the difference among people. By teaching students thatpeople are different at an early age, it may alleviate some the hostilitiesbetween them as adults. Also, this will teach students tolerance to views thatare different than their own. Students learn from what they see, if they seeand share prayer with their