Personal Narrative

Lars Eighner once found himself homeless, scavenging dumpsters for his next meal and looking for possessions that could benefit him in this difficult time. While on this journey, Eighner discovered how wasteful today’s society is when it comes to vital materials in life. In his article, “Dumpster Diving”, Eighner uses an informative tone to emphasize the fact that people take things for granted by wasting valuable items they could still benefit from. Eighner establishes his use of logos by emphasizing his view on wastefulness in today’s society.

Nic Laycock J.Berte Composition 1 FD16 Summary and Analysis On Dumpster Diving Lars Eighner’s “On Dumpster Diving” (Published is a first person informative essay that explores the art of Dumpster diving. Almost presented as a user guide or instructional piece his key message is about the wastefulness of consumers and the shallowness of materialism. About a year before he became homeless, Eighner began sourcing all of his life necessities from dumpsters because of a lack of money as all his income was spent on rent. He makes the claim that it is possible to survive and be content with life simply by living off the refuse and waste of others.

I arrived at practice with my shoes laced, hair pulled back, and the mindset that I was unstoppable. I could play against every member of my team and come out the victor on any given day. It was the first day of practice that week, and challenge matches were scheduled to begin. The team went through our daily shuffle of drills, conditioning, and running to prepare for what was lying ahead. While warming up with my friends, I felt great, talking about homecoming, boys, and a variety of irrelevant events. I felt ready. The odds were in my favor and nobody could stop me.

The growth of consumption has caused a large increase in rubbish. This is due to people having more choice when out shopping. Many years ago women stayed at home and men went to work but now that both men and women are out earning there is a lot more disposable income which ends with people buying luxuries and upgrading items they already have. This results in the old ones being thrown away. People are constantly upgrading and renewing items to better models. Mobile phones bring out new models every year which people feel the need to buy to keep up with the trend and because they want the newest gadgets on the street. Pcs have changed to laptops which gives the pc no home except out to be collected on bin day. This causes a problem

It was a hot sweltering Saturday in August, August twenty-seventh to be exact. I remember waking up that morning with my stomach in knots we were to play the Hot Springs Bison. Sure, I played JV last year and practiced all summer with the first team but now all the hot god awful gut ranching two a day practices were about to pay off.

‘’I was on my way to back to school night I was extremely nervous to meet my teacher and when I got there I heard Andrew then I turned around and…’’ One time when I was in second grade I was on my way to back to school night I went to meet my teacher her name was Ms. Pepler. She was nice at helping me put my stuff in my desk but I thought she would be meaner in the school year so when me and my mom got back in the car I said ‘’I think Ms. pepler is going to be mean this year.’’ My mom said ‘’ she seemed really nice at back to school night’’ then I said maybe you're right.’’ Now it is the first day of school and I was nervous because I thought I had a mean teacher and I didn't have any friends it was just me and my cousin. The first day of

I was not an intentionally bigoted twelve-year-old. I was raised in an affluent suburban community where the vast majority of people are white. The 100% white private nursery school which I attended was chosen by my parents largely due to its proximity to our home. My public elementary school was about 70% white as it was populated with students who resided nearby. Finally, the private middle school which I attended, located almost an hour from my home, provided me with exposure to the most diverse student body of my youth as it was comprised of about 65% Caucasian children. What each of these formative academic experiences shared in common was both that their student bodies were disproportionately Caucasian, as well as that their senior administrators

I slowly sit up and rest my back against the headboard of my old bed. Closing my eyes and taking everything in that has happen since I’ve woken up. Being in my old room, brings back a lot of memories of when I used to live here as a child. Moments with James, moments with my mum. I let a tear escape my eye, quickly wiping it away. I can’t let it get to me anymore. It was five years ago. A few more tears escape and I go to whip it away again when light bounces off the scars on my arm.

I grew up as a creative, very imaginative person. My imagination was always going, 24/7, going like Lebron in the paint, it couldn’t be stopped. I would stay up some nights imagining myself as a cop, a football player, basketball player, astronaut, truck driver, you name it. I imagined myself being anything I wanted to be. But how I got to be so imaginative is because of something I didn’t think until I began to write this essay. I was raised in a small town call Crossett, Arkansas, above the border of Louisiana. This town is a town in which I call a “chill town.” Everybody knows each other, and when pass by in your cars you can wave and give a bright smile and they’ll do the same back. Usually on a weekend you can find mostly everyday in their

It was cold on the night of November 14th. My friend, her boyfriend and I were walking to Walmart, planning on getting cake ingredients for my friend’s grandmother’s birthday. On our way there my surroundings seemed rather quiet for it being Angola. I felt like something was wrong like something had happened. But I continued to toss the feeling aside and just walked the path that leads to the parking lot. I couldn’t help but look in between the trees that held pitch black darkness. I was worried that was where troubles may lie, I was wrong. My real problem all started with a simple phone call.

It seemed like the weekend would never come. It did, and now she had to scramble to get preparations ready for Ray’s arrival this morning and Fiona and Emily’s for lunch.

Two and a half years ago i was brought into this world. I couldn’t see or hear for quite a while so I just slept, and slept, and slept. I don’t remember the first day I could see, but i remember the first thing I saw. My mother. She was big and yellow with huge floppy ears I dreamed I would have one day. Her eyes were filled with compassion as she looked at me and my nine other siblings I apparently had. When I looked around at all of my brothers and sisters it was obvious I wasn’t the first awake. Three of my brothers were running around playfully in a huge pen located in the backyard. All three of them were yellow, but not me, I was black. Jet black with not even the slightest bit of variation. I had black fur, black paws, and black eyes.

You can never judge a book by it's cover, sometimes that book may be pretty on the outside but it could be broken on the inside like a mirror that was dropped with pieces that could not be put back together. I come from a family where we were once a “Family” but we let differences brake us. At this point in my life I was eleven years old learning to be independent,learning how to handle school on my own, not letting others define me as a person or who i was going to become. Again I was only eleven, a lot of eleven year olds i know today didn't do the things I did as a kid. Now there was a time in my life where i played with barbies and had a favorite blanket that i could not let go of. Every family goes through things there is no such thing as perfect.

It was the final night of the camping trip. My family had come to the woods, and having spent two days toughing it out in a tent, we decided to treat ourselves and stay in a cabin. The day was well spent and included fishing, roasting marshmallows, and playing games with my mom, dad, and little sister, Payton. Understandably, all four of us were exhausted. Things started to go wrong when I entered the cabin bedroom.

Vacations, a time to drink fruity drinks and tan on the beach with the sun on your face. Vacations should be a fun and happy time for everyone. Instead of having the time of my life on my trip, I experienced Titanic 2, in my own way. I got burned, almost died tubing, and got into some illegal trouble with a taxi service. Worst of all, got told something that has changed me forever.