Memoirs of the Disillusioned Essay

“It is ironic that we in turn had to escape the tyranny of his rule to find freedom for ourselves.” Pg. 294

Slavery, Hardships, and Freedom? This book describes a day in a life of Frederick Douglass. In 2013, I saw a movie called ’12 Years A Slave’ reading this book and watching the movie was eye-opening for me. ‘My Freedom’ in this book explains that young Douglass suffered as a slave, when which he failed to flee his ‘Bondage’, then eventually he escapes that life. Douglass’s story continues to reverberate throughout his life and the American Dream that he conquered all the obstacles that he overcame and reached his goal. He shows us that you can achieve your goals if you strive for it. “My Bondage and My Freedom” is an eye-opener for your life and you can compare your life and see how you can make a change

A majority of people that chose to accept freedom believing it would give them better opportunities in life soon realised that life as a free person wasn’t as positive as they initially thought.

He successfully characterizes the rekindling of his desire for freedom as a glorious resurrection from the slavery, emphasizing the horrors and evils of slavery in this clever comparison. Using this comparison, Douglass then describes his willingness to do anything for a chance at freedom. “It cannot be that I shall live and die a slave” (83). This not only puts his plans for escape into motion but also justify his action in doing so. He states that even if he obeys orders and does as any other slave would he would still die, and better try to be free than suffer quietly. “I have only one life to lose. I had as well be killed running as die standing”

Question: Explain how events such as the Vietnam War and Watergate affected the American public’s opinion of the U.S government.

Rebecca Solnit, a modern day author, essayist, and activist once wrote that “The revolution is waiting, but it doesn’t look like what people expected”. Revolution has been both glorified and criticized in human society, but no matter the cause, it is a fundamental change in the status quo. When revolution boils down, it comes to passion, but also the willingness of the few to take great risks for the many. George Orwell’s 1984 returns again and again to a struggle with the concept of rebellion, especially against an oppressive government force like The Party. Does one take the chance of moving forward, or stay stagnant in their current situation? As readers follow Winston in this internal conflict, it’s clear to see that in order for a

"Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!"

You and I live in a world were modernism is reaching new heights every day. One day that touchscreen phone is considered new, and then next week it’s old news. These two stories that I am going to compare are about the role of technology, science and how it affects me and you. Based on how it uses new technology and modern science A Sound of Thunder is a better sci-fiction story.

In his biography, author Fredrick Douglass describes his struggle in society that was caused by being born a slave, and the cruel effects it had on him. Douglass develops his biography by using dramatic syntax to sharpen the effects of his story. Douglass’ purpose is to educate his readers on the struggles that he endured. He uses dramatic and sharp syntax to add depth to his biography.

The stone hollow echoed with dozens of small breaths and the clunky shuffling of chairs and tables. The lighting pulsated, from glowing orbs, the color of mandarins, positioned near walls throughout the room. Every child in the room was quiet in fear of disobeying and in pure content that today was another school day. Eilig sat in the back left of the room, at an ancient wooden desk with years worth of scratches and pen marks. Everyone else’s desks were identical: a scribbled-out heart an inch away from the corner, a deep, inch long scratch on the side. The silence was contagious until a woman entered the room, with hare-like features she clutched a clipboard, needle-like claws holding the soft wood in place.

In the midst of the conversation we were having, he stopped talking abruptly. I looked around noticing the Master was approaching angrily with a switch. What have I done wrong? Had he been calling for me? He approached me and aggressively began lashing me with the switch. He threw a multitude of questions at me he was almost unintelligible. “Where have you been? What are you doing out here with the likings of him?” He had been drinking of course and here I was to receive the bad end of it. He turned over to the outside slave and began lashing him with more force than he had with me. I made the decision of getting in between them to hinder the amount of pain inflicted on the outside slave, being that this was my fault. Clearly to the dismay of the Master. He had become more furious with me. He grabbed me by the sleeve of my dress, dragging me towards the one of the slave houses. Noticing the familiarity of the situation I had gone blank. I conjectured he’d force himself onto me as he usually would do but he went past the slave houses into a field.No longer being able to recognize what he’d do I began to panic. Nearby was a tree and rope. He stripped me bare, tied me to the tree and began lashing me with the rope. I counted…1, 2.. Until I found myself unusually dizzy. Was I going to die? I thought I’d never find myself here, nor did I think this could

The rising sun was orient in the blue sky. Dewdrops sparkle in the morning sun. Someone patted me on the back. The man whipped out a knife. He was a fat clumsy and dirty looking man. His hair had been badly cut and the ends were uneven. The sight made me stop dead in my tracks. Fear stole into my heart. He cowed me with his threats. The smell of smoke clung to his clothes.On the one hand, he had pressed and held both my hands. On the other hand, he continually stroked my body. He just bear down on me with all his strength so I was unable to repel and move. The rough cloth pricked my skin.Then I just lost it and started screaming. "Stop it !" I bellowed at him. My word made no impression on him. No one was on the scene at the time. Why he did it? What was his intention in doing that? How could this happen to me? Why should it be me? After that, every step I took sent the pain shooting up my thighs. I could not breathe. As I straightened up, the ache in my back grew worse. I bore the pain without a word of complaint. I thought it would

I would shut my eyes because I knew what was coming. And before I shut my eyes, I held my breath, like a swimmer ready to dive into a deep ocean. I could never watch when his hands came toward me; I only patiently waited for the harsh sound of the strike. I would always remember his eyes right before I closed my own: pupils wide with rage, cold, and dark eyebrows clenched with hate. When it finally came, I never knew which fist hit me first, or which blow sent me to my knees because I could not bring myself to open my eyes. They were closed because I didn’t want to see what he had promised he would never do again. In the darkness of my mind, I could escape to a paradise where he would never reach me. I would find again the haven where I

I was broken. I had nothing left inside of me, my life was slowly disappearing and I couldn’t stop it. As I lied on the cold wooden floor of my room the pain from where he had hit me was erupting inside of me. Every part of my body ached in agony, I struggled to suck in air. As my eyes flooded with tears and I looked at myself in the mirror I was horrified at the person looking back at me. Blood was running off my face and onto my nightdress. Deep purple welts had already started to form across my fragile body from the forceful impact of his rough fists that consistently made contact with my small figure. But living day and night in this torture couldn’t hurt me anymore than it already has, but what does is that it was him that did this to

“Freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor; it must be demanded by the oppressed” declared by an influential leader Martin Luther King Jr. As a soldier againsts unfairness, King strongly states that people should fight for freedom. Driven by human nature, humans are always chasing freedom. In “A Century Later,” the Pakistan-born British poet Imtiaz Dharker uses the poetic devices of symbolism, diction, and allusion to explore how perseverance drives freedom.