My First Mistake - Original Writing

In reading "Mistakes were Made but Not by me," multiple accounts are given of traits exhibited by humans that are displayed subconsciously. The authors, Carol Tavris and Elliot Aronson, begin by defining these traits and give readers the actual terminology to these characteristics. With various examples being provided to the reading audience they are then able to make a clear correlation between the behaviors displayed and how they may impact not only themselves but others around them. "Mistakes were Made but Not by me" has a theme which is centralized around the two key facets which are cognitive dissonance and self- justification.

Beginning just before my senior year I went through a series of trials that continued through most of my senior year. I wanted to do something for myself, and was encouraged to attend the National Catholic Youth Conference (NCYC). I decide to go, and so in January I set off for Indianapolis. Once at the conference, I listened to music, met other catholic high schoolers, and participated in workshops. I learned a lot about my faith, and about different forms of worship. This was something that I had not previously been exposed to, as while I was a member of one of the largest parishes in Central Ohio, it is a very traditional parish that had not exposed me to much more than the basic teachings of the church, and also had not demonstrated

"The fifth day after my arrival, I put on the clothes of a common laborer, and went upon the wharves in search of work. On my way down Union Street I saw a large pile of coal in front of the house of Rev. Ephraim Peabody, the Unitarian minister. I went to the kitchen door and asked the privilege of bringing in and putting away this coal. 'What will you charge?' said the lady. 'I will leave that to you, madam.' 'You may put it away,' she said. I was not long in accomplishing the job, when the dear lady put into my hand two silver half-dollars. To understand the emotion which swelled my heart as I clasped this money, realizing that I had no master who

In the beginning I understood my Christin faith as an academic. I did as I was told, I read my bible, and I followed the Ten Commandments as any teenager does; when it suited me. I wasn’t a horrible teenager, I was raised in a small farm community that really didn’t understand someone with a vole at the end of their name, or someone who wanted to walk to the library and read rather than hang out on the steps of the malt shop/gas station. My formative years were the 1960’s. There was so much conflict and rebellion and hatred. By the time I graduated and was supposed to go out and make my way I was thoroughly confused with and rebellious. Problem was I wasn’t sure what I was rebelling against; the “rebel without a clue.” But, in the end I wound up being a successful trial attorney; I even ran for Congress! I became a Master of the Universe; I was a Goddess that walked on the earth. I believed that God already had enough on his plate, wars, famine, disease, atrocities; why should I plague Him further? After all, the Bible says: “God

When choosing a religious service I was very limited on my choices so I was intrigued to go back to my roots and try the Catholic denomination. This denomination is the one that is most prevalent in my community and also in my social circle as well. Since I have actually been to a Catholic church as a child I thought I knew what to expect but I was shocked at how naive I was to the subject. My preconceived ideas and thoughts were that there would be a lot of getting down on your knees then back up again then saying your Hail Mary’s with not much depth to a service. Also growing up with a social group that was full of Catholics you would always hear of confession so that was something I was particularly dreading for the fact that I did not

In recent days I had the opportunity to go back to North Carolina for a few short days. There, with a heavy heart from a loss in the family, I had nothing else to look towards. I’ve always heard of individuals finding peace, faith, blessings, and love of Christ from attending church. I’ve never been a person who put their faith into a higher power. As I was growing up my parents never wanted to force me into any religion without me knowing everything about it and choosing which route to take on my own. As the years treaded on, I never bothered myself to learn about the many different religions and what each stands for. So I used this opportunity as mine to attend church for the very first time. I attended the Roman Catholic services held

Born and raised in Marion, Iowa and into an evangelical church, my parents “Baby Dedicated” my life to christ. At age 5 my family moved to New Covenant Bible Church. When I was young I didn't think much of church, it was just something you did and was merely going through the motions. But when I hit middle school my parents made me go to church every Wednesday and Sunday. Key phrase, made me. At this point in my life I didn't like church, at all. As I grew older, I wanted to be at church less and less. And I dreaded going every time Sunday morning rolled around. I had the mindset that the world had more to offer me than Christ did. And so I made excuses and put up fights and soon I rarely went to church. My family went but I stayed

On July the tenth in the year of our Lord 1996 many children were born. One of these children was Samuel Thomas Speros, the first of his name. When I was three my Father and Mother split up; and by age five a new man was living with my mom and the word “Custody” became one of common use. This man’s name is Dan Seifert and he is now my stepfather, he had a civil marriage with my mother after a few years of living with us. At this time I was going to St.Rose elementary school in Thomasville. My mother might not be the best catholic but she has always believed in the need for catholic education which was her gift to my brother and me. We went to mass at St. Rose about twice a month but it was always just something we did,

Mistakes something that we all do. People are not perfect therefore we will all make mistakes many times in our life. But there are two types of people in the world's ones that will live up to their mistakes and accept that they did it so they can move on. And there are those that will never live up to the mistakes they made and they will never be able to move on. The only way to truly learn from a mistake is to accept that you made one. There have been many times in my life that I have messed up and made mistakes. Some very terrible some not so bad. But none of them never were as bad as this one but, what i learned from the mistake made it all worthwhile.

Two different but similar forms of writing are able to be tied down into one general but specific category. In the book, Mistakes Were Made (but not by me), by Elliot Aronson and Carol Tavris, Aronson and Tavris commentates on events that people go through. The book is mainly about Elliot Aronson’s and Carol Tavris’ opinion on how people behave and should behave when caught in tough situations. Instead of focusing on one main character in the book, each section of the book illustrates a different person 's’ situation and that situation would correspond with a specific theme in the chapter. Throughout the book, Aronson and Tavris give us a broad idea of how some psychological thinking/processes comes into play, each psychological concept corresponds to a chapter or section in the book, these ideas are: confirmation bias, revision of memories, self-justification, pyramid of choice, cognitive dissonance, blind spots, closed loops, reducing cognitive dissonance, blaming, self-justification (for the greater good), and (sunk costs). Another form of writing, “Wrong Answer”, by Rachel Aviv, is an article focusing on the main idea of a school going through tough times and the outcome of the actions taken by the staff. The article revolves around Parks Middle School in Atlanta. The teachers and staff in Parks Middle School were caught cheating and changing the answers students submitted for standardized tests, and this little mess resulted in hundreds of teachers being laid off and

The naivety of my childhood caused me to believe that I was not good enough, that I had to change myself in order to gratify the people of my church and maintain my dad’s good image. Whenever I went to church, I felt that I had to completely change myself in order to keep everyone happy, everyone but myself. As I got older and figured out that it is impossible for anyone to fully fulfill the expectations of others, I realized how restricted I had been my entire life. I finally came to the realization that people were putting me in a box unsuitable for me and expected me to fit in

During elementary school I decided I wanted to move in with my father who did attend church religiously every Sunday morning. Catholic mass was awful and difficult to understand. My father put my brothers and I through communion and made us participate in church bible study to further understand the religion. As I got older my views on Catholicism had gotten worse, I started hating going to church. When the nuns called my age group to have children’s church my father forced me to go, they took us to a room that had no windows and was always cold. The nuns made us read the old testament in the King James Bible version and I always had a hard time reading and understanding it because of the way it was written. This experience made me hate and

Religion plays an important role in my life. I identify as catholic, but there are some thing that me and my family don’t follow. We don't go to church often and when we do it's only for important events. This is because we’ve had bad experiences with

I never knew when it started, this obsession. Didn’t even realize how slowly and steadily what I thought I could control controlled me. I am not like most people my likes, dislikes and feelings differ from most of the crowd. When did I become someone who cared so much what other people think of me? Now that I think about it, it baffles me how I slowly and steadily from being an individual who preaches about being different suddenly became someone who just wanted to fit in to other people’s expectations. And suddenly I feel I woke up to realize what kind of a slave I had become.

Growing up I always lived in a religious household. We always prayed before we ate, prayed before we went to bed, and always went to church on Sunday and Wednesday night. While I never questioned these actions and never tried to rebel against them, I still didn’t understand the importance of them either. I was merely walking in my parents footsteps, doing what my parents told me, singing along to the children’s songs in Sunday school, gave a tithing of my allowance every Sunday, but my life was void of the real meanings of my actions. This went on for years. Because I had not yet read through the Bible to understand why these actions had any meaning, they were just things I did all the time and I thought that was normal and that was what it meant to be a Christian.