Narrative Essay About Enduring Risks

“Fear is an unpleasant emotion caused by the belief that someone or something is dangerous.” Rainsford is an experienced hunter who fell off a yacht, and swam to a nearby Ship Trap Island. Once he got on the island, he found shelter with a deadly General Zaroff. Great fear was then sparked in Rainsford when Zaroff forced him to be hunted in a three-day long game. Thus, Rainsford will most likely never hunt again after suffering through the damaging trauma of the game.

Walking into the auditorium for my first audition in high school, my mind raced with fears and anxieties. I auditioned with a group of friends for the production of In the Heights. Immediately, I realized the high school’s drama program differed greatly from the middle school’s. The directors expected the students to prepare their song ahead of the time. My group had little to no preparation; It was the definition of “winging it.” When returning home, I began brainstorming other after school activities I could join because of the poor performance my group and I put on. Shockingly, I made the show and every show since. That moment changed my life for the better. Freshman year I was a shy, insecure student afraid of socializing with the others. Today, in my senior year, I am no longer that person. I am a confident young

Each step up the stairs increased my apprehension. My thoughts were now jumbled. All I could think about was the moment I was about to encounter, the moment that I had been waiting so long to experience yet never wanted to arrive. I hurried across the stage. I had never liked being the center of attention, but all the same, a flame of pride had been ignited in me. My mother would be somewhere up front, trying every way she could to achieve the perfect angle for the perfect picture. Mr. Johnson handed me my certificate, which I grasped in my hands, clammy from the agitation I felt since an hour prior. The pastor and principal were smiling encouragingly. I shook their hands, then turned so that I was facing the audience. To the people watching this scene unfold, it would have seemed like I was uncomfortable. However, the smile plastered across my face was genuine. I walked quickly off the stage. Now that more than a hundred pairs of eyes weren’t on me, I was elated. I couldn’t contain my pride. I was also thrilled, for this new chapter in my life was only just

She had somehow managed to nab front row seats the day before the opera, and I was thrilled. My mom and I were bawling our eyes out towards the end of the opera, and it absolutely blew both of us away. A little spark was ignited in my heart and I knew that it was the start of something big. I understood deep down that I loved performing onstage and that I loved musical theater, but this was something new and exciting for me. A way to perform without dialogue and only song? Count me in. I was drawn to singing like a moth to a light, and knew that this is where I wanted my life to go from that instant on. After embarking on my classical singing journey, I feel as if I have come full circle. Now whenever I go to NATS competitions, I notice younger competitors are looking up to me and asking me questions, something I could’ve never imagined happening to me when I was younger. Now, I’ve competed in the Classical Singer Competition, and at the NATS Nationals conference, which I am proud to have placed second in.

My phone’s alarm went off early in the morning; I let it play a little more as the alarm was my favorite song. Instead of being cranky by the alarm, I bumped to it. The birds chirped from all angles, the neighbor’s dogs barked at each other, while he was too busy mowing to lawn. But, I was in a terrific mood anyway. The blinds, slightly open, let bright sun rays hit my floor, while the A/C blasted. I slowly got up, and let out a loud yawn. Bones cracked at every single body joint. The pleasing aroma of coffee and the savoring smell of eggs filled up my nostrils. I put both feet down, and head to the pull-up bar where I hang on it for a few seconds, stretching out my spine. I turn my head toward the calendar to make sure today was the day. Indeed it was, reading the month of July with 2008 written in big, bold letters. Butterflies filled up my stomach with goosebumps everywhere.

Our heavy breaths were inaudible compared to the claps and cheers delivered from the audience. As the audience gave us a standing ovation, we all knew we proved our point. Our voices were heard through dance. The stage grew dark and we walked off in unison, Latino and proud. We were able to physically, emotionally, and intellectually captivate audiences.

Those girls were a division higher than my team; so, as I watched their arms gracefully swing from side to side; their legs kicking into the air in a beautiful battement; and, the nearly flawless transitions, I wondered how much hard work and how many rehearsal hours they put in to achieve those movements with such ease. The spotlight highlighting their every move had me in awe. The song slowly started to fade out and the loud, obnoxious thumping in my chest resurfaced. With shaky legs and uneven breathing I hesitantly made my way onto the stage and got into position. Looking into the crowd, I could see hundreds of faces staring back at me; some familiar, some I had never seen in my life. This gave me a feeling of nostalgia taking me back to that first day of dance class when all eyes were on me. I could not hear anything around me except my heartbeat in my chest. I remembered how aesthetically pleasing the dancers prior presented themselves on stage and told myself to get it together. I had to give it my all and not let my team down, but most importantly I could not let myself down. I looked at my friend, who posed just to the left of me, for reassurance and she gave me such a genuine smile. I could see it in her eyes that she believed in me. I looked at my surrounding and thought “This is what I’ve been working towards. This is where I want to be.” All the negative thoughts that previously invaded my mind faded. My breathing began to even out as the lights dim signaling that the song would start any

As I sat enveloped in her story of overcoming conclusions, she taught my heart to embrace each quirky part of myself. I identified with Elle Woods’ need to prove herself. This idea of accepting individuality provided me with the courage to audition for my first show, the Arvada Center’s production of Footloose. Since that first nerve-racking, nail-biting experience, I have come to find myself through each move I dance onstage. Getting my first big role, the Dragon in a production of Shrek, I poured my heart out, knowing the people ready to judge and mock were watching. After the show, the peers who judged my intelligence approached me, saying things like, “I never knew you could sing like that.” Through performing I found myself again. I shifted back to the girl I was, the girl who cared about her morals. I want to perform, hoping to provide audience members with the ability to connect with characters who can offer them a point of realization, as Elle Woods did for me.

As the show captivated my senses, it captured my heart, and turned from what I thought would be a trite show like the soap operas my mother enjoyed into a breathtaking experience. The dancers leaping and flipping across the stage were astonishing, and filled me with a sense of wonder. I was not consciously aware of it at the time, yet in some way, I aspired to emulate them in my own life. Now I in no way wanted to be a broadway star; however, I wished to gain even just an ounce of the talent they possessed. Exiting the theatre, I had a different attitude than when I had first gone through the doors. I had finally found something that I did not just enjoy, but that I was fervent

Smiling to myself at the memory, I thought of how much I had grown since that audition. I remembered the concerts I had performed in, the choirs I had tried out for, the sectionals I had lead. My growing confidence in my musical abilities had spilled over into other areas of my life, too: I spoke more in class and I no longer hesitated to try new things. I fondly glanced around the chorus room one last time, mentally absorbing every detail. I closed the door behind me, not feeling like running anymore, and strode the rest of the way down the hall, moving on to the next stage of my

The heat of the light was burning down on me, and I felt much too warm in my costume. I remember thinking that I would pass out any minute, though whether that be from the blinding heat or my body-wracking nerves, I did not know. I performed my heart out that day. We all did. We acted as one, every scream, every laugh, and every action was done in the most seamless way possible. In those 30 minutes, we were all parts of the machine that was our play. As the play went on, my fear disappeared. I do not recall feeling anything other than joy on that stage. The knots in my stomach slowly unraveled, and in their place came an unbreakable confidence. I walked across that stage as if there was nothing in the world that could possibly tear me down, and my cast mates held a demeanor in themselves similar to my own. There was a magic on our stage that day. I felt a warmth spreading through me, an elation like nothing I had ever felt. As the lights dimmed out and we waltzed off of the stage, the sounds of applause had erupted throughout the hall. Our last show of the season had been our best, and I could not have been more satisfied. Ms. Carraher, our director, and Mama Jack, our assistant director, had always told us that when our show had reached it’s peak, there was a sparkle on the stage. I knew there was a sparkle on our stage that day. And the only thing that could diminish that sparkle, would be not

Monday morning has arrived and is at full volume announcing itself as the alarm clock is screaming from the nightstand. With little sleep and a stomach full of nerves I climb out of bed slapping the noise into silence, and rub my eyes. The blank spaces on the wall remind me where my degrees used to hang. Aright Anne, wake up. In hopes of calming my nervous stomach I make my way into the kitchen for something subtle; coffee and a bagel. Watching the morning news I sneer; it will be a hot and humid day. After having breakfast, I check the clock and jump into the shower struggling to wake. Today will be hot so I decide on something lightweight. Stop being so nervous I tell myself again as I pull the towel from my wet hair and gaze into the mirror. I need a good concealer today as my blue eyes appear tired. I comb through my long blonde hair and blow-dry it. As I wrap my hair into a hair clip I make my way to the closet. Choosing my light pink dress shirt, dark-gray trousers and black strappy heels I stand staring into the mirror. Time for makeup as I remind myself not too much I need to keep it professional. I choose a set of earrings and my favorite ring with a matching bracelet. A final check in the mirror and I’m done. Spinning with nervous thoughts; I try to remember who my first patient is this morning, and I realize I have forgotten the name. My subconscious screams way to go! How

This assignment will critically evaluate theories of risk, and consider the approaches to practice for the role of a local authority social worker in the identification, assessment and management of risk of social work with children, young people and families. There will be consideration given to the impact of social work practice on service users and carers including my understanding of anti-discriminatory and anti-oppressive practice.

My heart is in my throat as I walk onstage. The curtain opens, and the dance number starts. I see my friend Maggie come out with the rest of the graceful dancers. She looks at ease, and I start to sweat. I remember the dance moves that Sophie taught us. Up, step, back, tease and turn. As I move my way up to the front of the circle, I try to remember the lines that I have to

the same sum on a false hunch regarding an AIDS cure, he or she would