Mrs. Anderson Interview Paper

I sat on the driver’s seat nervously and took a deep breath. It was a hot Saturday afternoon; the sun was starting to fall and my mom and I were at the Department of Public Safety practicing for my driver’s test. My mom was sitting on the passenger’s seat and reckoned, “Aggie, you will be fine” as I finished parallel parking. This was probably the hundredth time we had practiced and every single one had different outcomes.

Speak, by Laurie Halse Anderson, is a story written in the first person about a young girl named Melinda Sordino. The title of the book, Speak, is ironically based on the fact that Melinda chooses not to speak. The book is written in the form of a monologue in the mind of Melinda, a teenage introvert. This story depicts the story of a very miserable freshman year of high school. Although there are several people in her high school, Melinda secludes herself from them all. There are several people in her school that used to be her friend in middle school, but not anymore. Not after what she did over the summer. What she did was call the cops on an end of summer party on of her friends was throwing. Although

6. In what ways does Barbara become “acculturated” to the cold and difficult daily activities of Taarnby?

Picking someone for this paper was much more difficult than the first one, at immediate thought the only people I knew over the age of 65 were my family members. I started to look into some of my friends’ parents but they were not quite there. Then it hit me, the perfect person to interview would be my friend that passed away in Dickinson, her grandmother. She is one of the most loving, caring, supportive grandparents I have ever met. I have always seen her from that stand point so interviewing her would only help me to understand how she became the way she is today.

Context- Grover Cleveland responds to a request from Anderson to attend a Reform Club of New York meeting. He is unable to go but still expresses his feelings for the cause. He still wants to enforce the Gold Standard and does not want to fall back to the free coinage of silver.

By: Laurie H. Anderson Book Report By: Jasmin Ruiz Summery of plot 16 year old Mattie Cook lives with hard working mother Lucille, former captain grandfather and freed slave Eliza who serves as there cook. Things go well running the coffeehouse until fever breaks out in Philadelphia where they lived Mattie is forced to watch the people around her die of yellow fever including her mother. She and her grandfather flee the country to get away from the epidemic but they are turned away from accusation of having yellow fever. As her grandfather grows weak, Mattie must learn to survive and manage in a place filled with disease. Setting & Time Period

Laurie Anderson is an American artist, composer, musician, and film director. Anderson was born in 1947 in Glen Ellyn, Illinois. Throughout Laurie’s childhood, she played the violin. She began her studies at Mills College, but ultimately graduated from Barnard College, where she studied art history. After completing her education, Anderson remained in New York.

February 22nd, 2016, on a rare sunny afternoon in the middle of a forested, I interviewed my mother Theresa Lim in our home in Federal Way, Washington. It was a simple and friendly conversation to know about one specific person for an English assignment. We sat in our kitchen at the dinner table, both across each other, we started the interview.

There is one thing all high schoolers look forward to: driving. And though we’ve all completed the sixty hours practice time and driver's education, it seems a significant amount of caution is forgotten while we walk key in hand to drive on our own for the first time. I realized this in 2016 when an accident involving three students in my school ended tragically. The school year was coming to an end and I had just started working my first job as a lifeguard. As the youngest and newest guard all I did was look up to the older more experienced guards. Especially Jacob, who somehow made hours of “professional people watching” as we often joked, interesting. Due to the thunderous rumble of his beloved pickup truck, we always knew when he was on

When my aunt and uncle got a golf cart, I had to drive it. I had a golf cart myself but that wasn't nearly as fast as the one they had bought. My aunt and uncle live here in Sioux Falls and they have this forest type of thing in their backyard with hills and trees everywhere you looked. So my aunt, Wendy, let me drive the golf cart since I was a “experienced” driver, and she told me,

There are many milestones during the teenage years that are essential to growing up. Driving is one of the biggest. For some, driving is second-nature, their hands almost slide across the wheel as they pilot the vehicle in and out of traffic, up and down winding hills, their movements being as calculated as a computers. Those are the natural born drivers, the kids whose minds are built for the road, quick in reflexes and adept in making split-second decisions. For others, the experience is quite different. Taking in short, stuttering breaths, they whip cars around tight corners, swerving and skidding as they attempt to correct their crooked path. To them, every new lane is a an impossible challenge, every car behind them is a crash waiting to happen, and every pedestrian has a death wish. They eventually learn to control their fear, but in the meantime, all passengers eagerly peer out the window for their some sign of their destination, desperate to get out of the car and survive another day. I was one of those drivers. My movements were about as quick as a sloth and as smooth as a gravel.

Learning something new can be a frightening experience; especially for a sixteen year old high school student who has not really experienced life until now; yet, I was filled with an enormous amount of anticipation and eagerness as I learned to drive for the first time. Without a doubt I had a lot of fears, I would wreck the car, resting in the back of my mind. Months earlier, I had read a report published in a magazine, and I knew that statistically one out every three teens has an accident in the course of their first year of driving, but I was determined not to be one of those statistics on my first day. I kept telling myself “I am not going to crash; I am not going to crash; I am not going to crash.” I was trying to convince myself there was nothing to it, that driving was easy, but I knew there was no way around it; I had to overcome my fears in order to gain my independence and freedom. The ability to drive myself places would give me my individuality, even if I did have to have an adult passenger with me while driving. But to a sixteen year old kid; if I could drive I would be free to navigate the world, and the possibilities would be endless. I would transcend into adulthood.

Within days of turning sixteen, I made an appointment for my driving test. In the early seventies, the process of acquiring a Driver's License was not as complex as it is today. Less than two months after turning sweet sixteen, I proudly held a piece of paper allowing me to legally drive an automobile. My bank account had grown enough to purchase a quality, used car, but I lacked the finances to purchase the required expensive,

Couple of dad’s sisters never learned to drive, but the youngest one sported the very latest year model, and worked outside the home, as a school teacher. Women in the work field, but men still took the lead, and that would be the day not to mention a sight to see, a woman pumping gas, but that day happened for me. We were the opposite of dads’ sisters on the perils of driving, (well with the exception of two sisters that were scared to death too) the sooner we learned to drive, the sooner we could escape the hell that was our life. But now things have changed as our generation gave birth, we went the

Do you remember when you were little and you could not wait until you hit sixteen so you could go and get your driving permit? I remember waiting until that special day so I could go down to the DMV to take my test to get my drivers permit. My stomach had butterflies floating all around inside it. I remembered they called my name, and then I had to go up to the front and take a test. I went and turned in the test, and was so nervously watching to see how many red checks they would make on my test. As I had my eyes glued to checker’s hand, with the red, felt tip pen interlaced in between her fingers, I anxiously awaited her telling me that I passed. After leading me on a nervous roller