I replied. “For a nice trip down yonder, so you can see how one bad mistake could change your whole life forever”, he answered. Not having an idea what he meant, I sat along for the ride. This day was a day I knew I would never forget.
Growing up in a small town in Iowa I was unaware of the many situations involving hardship or misfortune that were around me. Therefore, it was not till college when I received the opportunity to work for a reentry program called the Transformative Justice Initiative that I became aware of the multiple factors lead to incarceration, drug use, homelessness, and other areas of hardship. The longer I was involved with the program the more I learned how mental health is convoluted in all of these situations and in all populations. Consequently, my experiences with the Transformative Justice Initiative helped me develop my future aspirations as a professional, which include a desire to work with individuals that have mental illness.
Im proud to have things that I have now,Without my generation there would be no freedom,without freedom our lives would be miserable and torn apart.Im glad our veterans fought for our country, they risked their lives for our country to stay in peace.If we didn't fight we would be controlled And be told what job to have ,how many kids we can have or they will tell us where we live.Veterans did anything they could to defeat our enemies,They never gave up ,they never stopped they kept on going until it was over.Im also glad that we have civil rights without civil rights people would still be held as slaves and they would still be getting beat by their owners.The biggest thing that i'm proud about is equal rights ,there should have never separated
Three grueling days of marching. until we arrived at a small village. To the center plaza we marched, many of the frightened and confused villagers had gathered there. The legate leading the legion began reading a memoir written by a team of scouts on the horrid atrocities the Hunnic hordes
Breaking Away From Brutality “On my honor, I will never betray my badge, my integrity, my character, or the public trust. I will always have the courage to hold myself and others accountable for our actions. I will always uphold the constitution, my community, and the agency I serve.” This is the oath average citizens take right before they become police officers. The oath shows us why police officers are here, they are here to protect us. The police, and other Government officials, should use police brutality because, if the same people who are supposed to be protecting us are hurting and killing us, then regular citizens are not going to respect laws and authority.
The other day, I tried to share an article, on a social justice issue, with my close friend [white, cisgendered female], but before I could start reading, she responded with “Ugh, don’t read that. I’m not in the mood for anything depressing,” all the while rolling her eyes.
I reply to Rufus remark. Calm down you say, by Odin's beard free me now! I pause for a moment to think. I don't know why I am all tide up like this but all I know strange thing have been happening ever since I got my wound form that polar bear. Well that and when I left the camp for a walk and found an old woman picking mushrooms in the woods she told me to eat them and I would see the gods. Then after that every time I eat the mushroom I would see the gods but the men that were with me looked like they been in a fight and when I ask them what happen they would avoid the question.
"ARGH!" I turn around and notice a presence appearing from the rocky crevices that lead to the garden. Surely, this must be the hero that legend spoke of. A man of great strength and willpower, one with the fighting force of a thous-
When I see fit, I shall come and claim other victims. I alone know whom they shall be. I shall leave no clue except my bloody axe, besmeared with blood and brains of he whom I have sent below to keep me company.
“What were you thinking?” My mother said, with a clear look of shame and disappointment resting on her face. “What will people say about us?” My father roared from the other room sounding enraged. I didn’t have an answer for any of the millions of questions my parent’s threw at me that night. I believe I was too shocked myself to utter any words. All I could do was stare down at my night stand and look at the “two pink lines” on this plastic white stick: which indicated that I was in fact “pregnant.”
He moved quickly and quietly as a fox over the fresh powder from the blizzard, dodging trees and fallen branches protruding from the ground. The air was crisp and the figure could see his breath as he ran through the shrouded forest. His heart was racing, for he feared for
For a reason I don’t understand, teenagers will often call their peers “Social Justice Warriors” as an insult. As if being proactive about the world around us is a negative thing that should be squashed through insecurity. I am someone who has often been called a social justice warrior. But despite how those who say it would want me to feel, it actually makes me happy. It makes me happy because it means that even if they don’t want to hear or think about how the world treats people and things that don’t fit in with the norm, they know that that’s what I am fighting. To Lewis & Clark I would bring this peaceful fury. There have been times over the years when I have stopped myself from speaking up for things, but I got tired of that pretty quickly.
It was just the beginning of February. The winter cold, brutal, and yet normal for the people living in Michigan. My best friend Brian, his uncle Craig, and I were driving back together from Craig’s up north cottage. Brian and I were riding passenger with Craig in his Chevy Silverado pick-up. We were coming back from the annual Perchville Polar Bear Plunge that took place in Tawas, Michigan. A lot was on my mind since it was the second semester of my senior year, and graduation was right around the corner. I had no idea what I wanted to do, or where my future would take me.
The once great America, an almost perfect civilization, trees and un-tampered wildlife, gleaming streams running pure water, glowing meadows filled with extravagant life. But now it’s all gone. The works of happy life kidnapped by the likes of “pure” conjecture in the way off destruction. Streams, rivers and lakes turned into cess-pools of radiation, and oil. Hangers full of cold metal machines, dripped in oil that scream freedom, yet mean something else. The American government once pride and true, and free, now corrupt and fascist.
Three of my closest friends who broke the law by going over the limit of doves and I have to figure out what to do about it. I grew up with Jamie, I work with Jim and Brady they are some of the closest friends i have in the world. We hunt fish and even go to church together. They've help me through so many hard times like when my grandad passed away. I can ask them for help info or to help clean a deer. But What will i do if I can't help them cause they have broke the law.