Descriptive Essay

This woman’s expression is much different than the woman in the center of the image. The woman in blue looks stuck in thought, worry and grief. She is holding a burden. Her expression is so void of emotion that you can feel the suffering that lies behind her eyes and are within her thoughts. Her gaze is aimed up toward the viewer but do not appear to be making contact with the camera. She appears to look through the viewer or past them, but not into them. She is fascinating, she holds one of the babies, but with no affection. All the other woman in the photograph add to the grief, anger and sorrowfulness felt in the image. Their gorgeous and colorful dress drowned out by the apparent distress of the expressions on their sun lite faces.

The image symbolizes most of the mothers during the Great Depression. They felt discouraged because they could not care for their kids. Michael Austin says that she was a “mother of seven at age thirty-two” (568), which is how many families were. There were numerous big families during the beginning of the twentieth century. That caused more struggle for them because there were more mouths to feed. Henry states that the mother was “Aged both by weather and misfortune, she is a victim of intense poverty” (38). Majority of Americans were like that during the Great Depression. Almost everyone suffered from poverty. This image displayed her level of suffering, which is why it symbolizes the Americans during the Great Depression. James C. Curtis agrees because he states “After its publication in 1936, Migrant Mother became a timeless and universal symbol of suffering in the face of adversity” (1). However, the symbolism of the picture goes deeper than that. The tent the mother and her children was staying in represents the country. It represents how unstable the country is. The country had fallen apart, just as easy as their home could. There are numerous instances of symbolism in this image which contributes as to why it is so representative of that

When looking at this image I personally cannot relate to the troubles Florence Thompson went through because she was living during the Great Depression as a single mother with her children. The image portrays more than just a woman, it shows hope and resilience, which is probably why it is such an iconic image. Comparing this image of the Great Depression to others of its time, Thompson’s gaze is serious and many describe her as beautiful in a motherly way. In reading other people’s point of views, the image of Thompson seems to be a mystery to all. It must be the serious gaze she reflects while looking away from the camera. The image should make many thankful not having to live during the Great Depression. This was a time where many families became homeless, divorced, sick and fatalities where at its high. The image of Thompson is a historic picture and for good reason. This is because her image is still taught in today’s classroom in American society as a symbol of hope in desperate

What is their mother’s role within these images? She says “Photographing them in those quirky, often emotionally charged moments has helped me to acknowledge and resolve some of the inherent contradictions between the image of motherhood and reality.” So it seems her images are as much about herself and her own desires, fear and fantasies, her own disconnect between maternal expectation and reality, her own way of ‘shooting back’ defined by her maternal subjectivity through manipulation of the screen of familiality. As much as they are about her children, trying to capture something evanescent, which defines them, captures them in their entirety, their beauty; anxious for their safety, yet with such a strong investment of her own self

The photographer of this photograph was working with the Federal Government when she came across a mother trying to live during the hard times of The Great Depression. This mother, who’s name is unknown, was living in a migrant camp with her children. The family was dealing with many hardships like famine and inequality along with many others during that period. This image has caused controversy ever since it was published and reproduced. Some say Lange lacked compassion of the mothers feelings when it was published and brought forth. Overall, the image helped in an enormous way by bringing awareness to the struggles of poverty and starvation to this

Soft, gentle sunlight slowly poured through the cracks of light pink curtains, thus, making the room a light shade of pink. The pink on a baby blanket, or even a newly budded rose. After all, Adelaide never failed to pleasingly decorate her room, let alone her house, look aesthetically pleasing to all the acquaintances she has over for dinner. Beep-Beep-Beep! Beep-Beep-Beep! The alarm on her smartphone went off, almost giving her a heart attack. As she sat up, she lethargically sat up, putting her glasses on, for she needs them to view the world more clearly. After putting her glasses on, she grabbed her phone, looking at the time. 7 o'clock. It was just the right time for her to get ready. Getting up in the morning, Adelaide only applied a bit of makeup on, while pulling her hair into a neat, brunette ponytail. As she looked in the mirror, smiling a smile that could intimidate any girl, she glides over to the closet, picking out the perfect outfit, a long sleeved button-up with a plaid skirt, and some lovely, black flats to match. Moving a small stack of clothing, in a corner, lay a picture frame covered in dust and what looked like dirt to Adelaide. As if it were a delicate infant, she carefully removed the grime and muck from the old vintage frame. It was of her mother and father when they were younger, therefore, making her jejune at the time. As she gazed upon the picture frame, a look of pain in her eyes. Moreover, she has not seen her parents in over a

I look outside the car window and see the colorless, grey sky and white clouds fly on by. Next to me is one of my best friends, Natalie, and my dad sitting in the front seat humming to a song. “This is going to be such a fun day.” I thought with a grin across my face. As we pull up to the drop off area, you can see the enormous and neon roller coasters rolling by. People of all ages scream at the top of their lungs as they go through flips, loops and drops. “This looks super safe,” I thought in my head. My dad reminds us to be safe and to drink tons of water. He drops Natalie and me off, quickly getting to the gate with a big sign reading, “Six Flags Magic Mountain”.

One hot and sunny day, Brooklyn and her mom walked to the city from their new house. While they were walking they spotted some cute stores. SInce they loved shopping they stopped and looked at all of the stores.

Jack was sitting cross-legged on the wooden floor of his tree house. He shivered in the evening air, slouching inside his hoodie, his eyes glued to the pages of his graphic novel. At eleven years old, he was a voracious reader and completely unaware that the sun had set. He had been using his flashlight for over an hour, propped under his chin so his hands could hold the book open. His collie puppy, Lex, had been patient but was starting to think about his fluffy bed and treats in the house. He pushed his head between the book and Jack, using his saddest face and even whimpering a little.

Ever since I could remember, I have always been able to communicate to the dead. However, when it first started, I didn’t know that they were spirits. They would play with me and be my friends. My parents just thought they were just my imaginary friends, that all change when I met my aunt.

The weather was beautiful that day. The water was a million shades of blue. The The waters were calm, with the occasional swell rolling to shore. I stood at the helm of this luxurious 40 foot boat. It was an all white boat that had a special design for SCUBA Diving and Open Water fishing, called a Mako. I steered the boat into a pretty unprotected bay that had a nice black sand beach to the north and sheer cliffs to the south. The green vegetation clearly contrasted with the black lava fields around it.The water was deep in the bay. Yet the coral reef was visible even in the deepest spots.

I never knew what it was like to have a normal heartbeat. I was your typical girl growing up that played with Disney princesses, loved pastel pink, and pranced around the house singing nursery rhymes at dawn. I would wake up every morning with a smile on my face and tell everyone and everything how much I loved them from my parents to my mini pink Barbie sofa that I adored. The world was beautiful and lovely, until I was thirteen years old. I was walking down the crowded and filthy streets of Times Square to a lavish five star hotel that rested on the corner of 45th and Broadway. I walked past the doorman whose hair was as white as snow to the elevator to go up to the 18th floor. I stepped inside of the elevator and clicked the circular yellow button which lit up with the touch of my finger. The elevator began to slowly glide slowly upwards towards my floor. The elevator then came to a sudden halt which took me by surprise. The lights went out. It was as dark as the night of halloween when the bats camouflage in the sky and there is no light to be seen not even from the old fashioned red brick houses decorated in cotton spider webs that lined the street of a tiny wealthy neighborhood in a large city. My entire body was jostled as if I was in the middle of an earthquake and I fell slowly to the ground like the wax melting from a candle. My heart began to thud. I could feel the blood pumping throughout my entire body. The sweat was dripping down my face like I just came out

The school was indeed an escape, and I had thanked god privately for Brendon Larson. I remember his personality vividly; his light humor and big glasses curved my lips for nearly the whole class. Especially anatomy and pathology, who knew the dull human body, could be so funny. He was generous with his happiness and sprayed a thin layer of hope on all of us from the front of the room. I used his humor as an anesthetic from the spiritual growing pains I was encountering.

I breathe shakily as I walk to the airport gate. In eleven hours I’m going to be in Argentina, living with a different family, and speaking in a foreign language. An older woman startles me out of my thoughts when she asks if she’s at the correct gate. I nod. After too long a pause I interrupt her conversation with another older woman to ask if I can practice my Spanish with them. They kindly agree, and I stumble over the correct conjugations as I try to make casual conversation. They respond quickly, and I’m instantly lost. My heart sinks as I thank them. I’m already bargaining with myself as we board the plane. It’s going to be okay, I still have eleven hours to learn conversational Spanish.

A long time ago, I went hiking in a mysterious forest. I found a lamp in a cave, yes and actual lamp, like the ones you buy at Ikea and put in your living room. Anyway, I took the lamp, because it looked brand new, and brought it with me on the rest of my hike. Once I got home, I put the lamp on a shelf in my living room, and plugged it in. The next day, I invited my friend over to brag about the stylish lamp, and she was very pleased with it. We talked over Chick-Fil-a for a very long time, and we ended up somehow chatting about going to Italy. I then said, “I wish I could go to Italy!” And immediately I ended up in the Adriatic Sea with the lamp. What my friend and I didn’t know about the lamp, was that it was an enchanted lamp, housing a small genie inside of the light bulb. By plugging it into the wall, I activated his powers. I took the lamp, broke the bulb, and pulled out the miniature genie, and he said I had been chosen to be granted endless wishes.