I can contribute some of my skillset to the experiences I’ve had when I was younger. From when I was about 7 years old my dad and I had a tradition in which every weekend he’d take me to hobby shops and purchase what I know now to be, STEM related kits. One day, he bought me the Meccano-Erector SUPER CONSTRUCTION SET with over 600 pieces to build anything I really could’ve imagined. That set was extremely vital in discovering what I loved to do. I built the ability to be tactile with pieces and find it very rewarding to construct elaborate devices now. Then, this summer I had the amazing opportunity to help a 22 year old interpreting service, by the name of The Language Connection, with trouble-shooting and testing their online schedule program.
Jerry wakes up in a dissociative state still hungover from the previous night’s drug binge, nullifying the pain with a fluffy, symmetrical line of Peruvian cocaine and a tightly packed bowl of luminescent green, trichome plastered cannabis nug sourced from California out of his Illadelph bong; naturally, Jerry was quite the aficionado in recreational drug use and progressive dependency. As dopamine floods his prefrontal cortex he’s invigorated with a renewed sense of grandiosity; he looks in the mirror, his eyes are sunken in, the pallor of his complexion is ghostly, an apparition of a once revered public figure. He averts his eyes to his many awards and commendations for a brief moment, before the cannabis takes effect. He brushes
From the moment I was able to tie my shoes and button my jacket, I knew I wanted to be a doctor. While all my classmates at the La Petite Academy made macaroni trees and smiley faces, I drew myself with a stethoscope curing a poor man with the cold. Every year in elementary school, we had career day. Never straying from my love to helping others I wanted to be a surgeon one year, to a dentist the next, and even an obstetrician, I changed my mind quickly once I found out what they did. Looking back on my childhood, I always had a connection with animals and always loved being around them. Early mornings I would open our nearly frozen-shut windows listening to the birds calling. Beside from the squawking of the crows, I heard a soft, pleasant yet curious bird call. It stuck out to me
I was convinced at one point in my life that I wouldn't graduate high school, let alone get a college degree. I grew up in a broken home, where there was physical, emotional, mental, and sexual abuse. This all had a tremendous affect on me as a young girl, well into my teenage years, and early adult hood, and significantly impacted the choices I made for myself at the time. I moved out of my home at the age of 15 after my mother remarried, I went to live with a friend which I thought at that time was a great idea. It wasn't long after that I began smoking marijuana, doing cocaine, drinking and taking rohypno. I was hanging out with all the wrong people, and I stopped going to school for over a month my junior year. One morning after I had drank
Kevin and I stepped into a whole new world in the fall of 2009. We began our degree program at Emmanuel School of Religion, which is now called Emmanuel Christian Seminary. We were working on our Masters of Arts and Religion. I was excited and nervous about going back to college. Our first day was terrifying. Kevin and I attended orientation the week prior to classes starting. There was a definite realization this academic program was going to be a challenge. However, I wanted a challenge. On the first day of class, we started with Greek. Our professor was Dr. Marwede. He opened the class with a test. He came over to my chair first and handed me a paper with a list of Greek words on it. My immediate reaction was shock, which Dr. Marwede realized I was overwhelmed by the look on my face. He told the class we could take it home as homework. Many of the students in the Greek class had previous experience with Greek; however, Kevin and I had no knowledge at all. We were overwhelmed. We were assigned five chapters and told to return the next day for a quiz with our homework.
Growing up, my parents and I always took the time to read stories together. Before bed, before school, while playing with dolls in the bathtub. Fiction and nonfiction stories alike taught me about both the physical, literal world around me, and the world I could create in my own mind when I needed to find comfort. It was through the works of fiction, however, that I learned despite the hardships of life, I could disappear into a world I could mold however I pleased.
Once upon a time, there was an illegal immigrant named Rosa she came from a poor family and her mother left her when she was 4 years old for another man.
Walking the overgrown paths in the expansive woods behind my house, I tried again to escape the claustrophobia of the cul-de-sac and the boredom of a small town. The forest was my sanctuary, and I walked knowing every rock, root, and bush. Then suddenly, it was different. My eyes hit the familiar clearing ahead, and I launched into a sprint through the underbrush, leaping up and over the barbed wire-topped rock wall. Landing with a whoop of delight, I eyed the novelty, a huge, brown steer, staring back at me. Molten joy turned to icy fear, and the steer began to charge. Thirty seconds of terror later, I noticed two things as I heaved against a maple tree: my now dung-covered shoes were ruined, and my curiosity was finally piqued.
The pixies leader looked at the quartz and garnets with interest. He flew closer and picked up a medium size quartz crystal and bit into to to check whether is was real or not. Once he was satisfied he agreed.
All my life, my main goal was (and still is) to move out of Wisconsin, say goodbye to the negative fifty degree winters, and explore the world. Looking for a career that incorporates my love for traveling and my intrest of Business has always sounded like a dream.Going to new, exotic places has always been a significant part in my life. After all, my first trip was when I was eight months old to Turks and Caicos. Throughout time, our family traveled to most of the Caribbean, I was infatuated with everything about these countries. At the age of ten, I started taking online Spanish courses.In the past year, I started to learn my third language, Italian. Learning a language takes a strong memory, from memorizing the spelling to all the forms the word has to be in.
Essentially anyone with influence in the region who had a stake in security was encouraged to attend, and we know of course that the insurgency is included in anyone with influence. Of course, the type of target that presents is monumental, but naturally we would not make it easy for the enemy. It would still be nowhere near easy to target the District Center just by our application of basic techniques; blocking positions, perimeter defenses, access control, observation and vigilance. It would have been easy to feel less than confident going into such a patrol, but we were the opposite. We had left no stone unturned and our Platoon was confident.
As I have grown up, mostly in an age where electronics are a "must have", I have very different opinions on it then most. I believe that, some students do over use the abliites that technology provides. I also believe that in some cases, technology is all that some students connect through.
It is hard to believe it has been two years since I retired after 37 years as an educator. After the initial withdrawal questions that I am sure most retirees experience such as what was I thinking to quit a perfectly good job; what will they do without me; what will I do without the daily interactions with people on the job; how will we pay the bills; and what will I do with all this free time; I finally came to grips with being a “has been” and moved on to being a “whatever I what to be." It took some time, but I came to realize there is more to life than a “perfectly good job” that requires 12 to 14 hour work days; I learned to accept they, the job, will get along just fine if not better without me; I still miss the job specific interactive
Ever since I can remember, I’ve spoken two languages. Russian and English both flow from the tongue effortlessly, without a second thought I can switch into either or. I was fortunate enough to be raised this way, and until I started school, I never knew there was anything different about me.
North, South, East, West. Where I’m from is not just a word or phrase. Where I’m from creates a paragraph, an essay of mysteries I’m still trying to figure out now. My mother was born up Northeast in Washington D.C., and my father was born Southwest in Oklahoma. Some of my family still remains there, but others trekked to other cities such as New York City and San Diego, making vacation decisions difficult. Should I go out West to visit my cousins? Or should I go North to visit my grandparents? Although most of my family comes from everywhere, most of my culture comes from the United States. No, I have never been outside of the country before until this recent Spring Break. “What makes me different than any other American then?”, you may ask. Yes. Both of my parents are predominately black, but that isn’t what makes up who I am.
This weekend was going to be one to remember. I was so excited to go visit a college campus and visit my friend at the same time. My mom was letting me go up on Thursday night and skip school Friday so it would be an extra-long and fun weekend. Who knew that one simple thing could ruin my excitement.