Hearing Both Sides of the Story
In a political climate today that is defined by hyper-partisanship, a confluence of factors have led my political leanings to lean left of center but center around a moderate outlook. As I grew up in a family with a Democratic mother and a Republican father, I often understand the logic of both sides. While many times political parties attempt to claim a moral ideological superiority, I believe that all people have their own experiences and opinions that justify their leanings. For me, a person’s political ideology is not a factor that defines one’s personality or character. Among my friends, I am often hesitant to initiate political discussion unless I have known the person for a long period of time. While politics
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Her father is one of the most outspoken members of my family, and he is a staunch conservative. My grandpa frequently listens to Rush Limbaugh and is a card-carrying member of the National Rifle Association. I have heard him openly discuss his opposition towards Barack Obama’s presidency and policies. While I disagree with most of my grandpa’s political inclinations, I deeply admire him and strive to live like he has. He is funny, hard-working, and caring. My mother admires her father as much as I do, but she also differs greatly in her political beliefs. After teaching Middle School history and government at Minnetonka for a few years, she decided to become a Youth Group teacher. She teaches at our Methodist Church in Sartell, and her classes include religious teachings that emphasize equality, tolerance, and acceptance. In the class, we also study other religions and have the opportunity to converse with other religions such as Muslims and Hindus. She is politically involved but is mostly concerned about social programs and policies in the United States. During the debate of the proposed amendment to define marriage as between man and woman, my mother was adamantly against the program and bought a yard sign and bumper sticker. I agree with my mother on all social issues, but I am more deeply interested in economic developments than she is. In 2012, my father was an adamant supporter of pro-business Mitt Romney while my mother supported Barack Obama, and they debated the candidates as they didn’t want to cancel one another’s vote. In the end, their political inclinations remained in
Growing up with a father in the military, you move around a lot more than you would like to. I was born just east of St. Louis in a city called Shiloh in Illinois. When I was two years old my dad got the assignment to move to Hawaii. We spent seven great years in Hawaii, we had one of the greatest churches I have ever been to name New Hope. New Hope was a lot like Olivet's atmosphere, the people were always friendly and there always something to keep someone busy. I used to dance at church, I did hip-hop and interpretive dance, but you could never tell that from the way I look now.
Over my years of school, one big influence on me has always been sports. Ever since a young age, I have always enjoyed playing and watching sports. In my four years in high school, I have fell in love with the sport of lacrosse.
I woke up and took one bite out of my pop tart but that one bite was all I could eat. My legs were shaking, and my heart was pounding. My dad told me, “It is a true honor to even make it this far so go out there and have some fun.” Once I heard this statement, I knew I was ready to go. I arrived at school and boarded the bus. The car ride was an hour and fifteen minutes of hearing the squeaking of the wheel on the bus. My teammates were getting their heads ready for the big game.
Her father’s words echoed through her head as one might hear a reverberation throughout the Taj Mahal. Continuous. Chilling. Having no control to distill the wavelengths until they mellowed out on their own accord. She tried to anatomize the depth of his phrase, more than dutifully needed but Davina needed to know why. Why did she need to keep an open mind and more importantly, who the hell was about to come bursting through that door. But then again, did it really matter in the first place. When she thought about it, the brunette could have laughed at the idea. That an unattributed, faceless figure had her panties in a bunch. Surely Dominic wouldn’t think to waste her time with venial diversions,
Hi iam Edgardo Flores i was born in casa grande, az not that far away from our state capital,Phoenix, Az.theres nothing better to do in a hot summer than going out with the friends to a lake and have a blast riding jet skis boats and my favorite, swimming!My activites of the day are shooting,riding horses,and my favorite one is quad riding.Thats right! ive been doing these fun exciting hobbies since i was 9 years old.pretty young huh?
I quickly swallowed my homemade authentic Indian food leftovers and gulped down my chocolate milk. Looking down at my watch that read 11:28am, I knew that I only had two minutes until my most favorite part of the day: recess. This particular day in 5th grade, I had run a lap around the playground before getting the rest of recess to myself. As I started walking for my warmup, another student ran up and said, “My parents said that your people caused 9/11.” Completely caught off guard, I held back the tears in my eyes and tried to shake off his comment. I had never encountered something like this.
When my mother asked me to read a book a few months ago, I was hesitant to agree. A stressful school year was approaching, and seeing my friends on a Saturday night seemed much more appealing. When I was younger, curling up with a good book was a typical pastime. Then came high school, and reading was replaced with countless hours of studying, cheer practice, and trying to figure out when I could catch up on some much needed rest.
I didn’t learn how to read until 2ed grade.Beacuse parents divorced my dad would take me to school some days and my mom would take me others. Little did I know my mom would drink and get high after I went to bed at night. In the morning she would sleep in with a hangover so I got dressed and ready on my own. She would not wake till 11:00 so I would play dolls and watch cartoons all morning. Because of this, I missed about 30% of grades K-3. In 3ed grade me and my dad and stepmom learned of my moms addiction. I stopped seeing my mom for a long time. During that time I discovered the joy of reading. I started later than the others so I ended up at a low reading level but once I learned to read, well, I never stopped.Stories are
Have you ever been so desperate for something that you modify your motive in its entirety? Throughout my life I’ve found myself placed in this frightening situation multiple times; the most confusing of which would be what I’ve endured this year. People in their 20s have it rough. We’re old enough to feel like we’re supposed to know what we’re doing, yet young enough to roll in the tide aimlessly and clueless and it still be acceptable. Then there’s those of us who believe we’ve got it all figured out only to be proven tremendously wrong. I have learned, however, that being tremendously wrong can lead you right where you need to be.
My initial perceptions about the students of St. Angela were very stereotypical. Honestly, I expected those students to come from single parent backgrounds and come from a low income household. I expected to deal with students who live life in a survival type of manner. What I mean by survival type of manner is for one to be on defense seeing the type of the children are from the Austin area. Walking in to St. Angela I expected to deal with kids that didn’t listen and know respect for authority. I expected this due to my upbringing in the same neighborhood.
Home is the beginning of one’s book. It is where your story begins, forms its characters, shows its purpose, and reveals its ora. This is how mine is written. Home is on the buzzing highway down a bumpy gravel road. It’s Brandon, Mississippi. It is the only home I’ve ever known. Home is the smell of homemade biscuits and tomato gravy on Saturday mornings. It is “Bless Your Heart” and “Yes Mam” and “No Sir”. The little bedroom in the back of a grey double-wide where Carrie Underwood songs played and where I learned to curl my hair and put on mascara. My cousins and I running around with mason jars, chasing the lightning bugs. Bar-B-q on the back porch and never meeting a stranger. It is the morals learned and the identity
Thanks for the conversations! I really like what we have here. Well, I'm sure you know my writing style at this point and if its at least before 1 AM, don't be afraid to message me if you need to reach out to someone. I definitely would be here for you, if you let me. Try and keep an open mind, I've learned that talking to someone helps gradually. In the moment, eveyrhting they say can seem as if they're playing devils advocate as well as being unsensical and rude. It's up to you to listen and comprehend, just as it is up to you who you talk to. I hope you find the help or a someone that can provide the support you need in those times of need. Housing at SJSU is going through a transition as a new building opens here is another coming to a
How many of you have something at work that you don’t like to do? Something that you knowingly avoid until you have to force yourself to complete it? I know that I have a couple things that I didn’t enjoy doing, or things that I wasn’t very good at. When I first started working here at Clickstop I was in MFG doing the packaging portion of things. I always tried to push myself to be the fastest at everything that I packed. Everything except for Old Dominion.
Willow acted calm like it was no big deal we might go in a submarine but I could tell she was excited and eager. Willow’s dad finally finished talking to the lab workers. He walked over to us with a stern look on his face. He sighed like he was sad, and my heart dropped. Did they say no. He sighed again, “Well, they said,” then he smiled, “We can!” All three of us jumped for joy! We were going in a submarine! “You scared me for a second!” Willow told her dad. “Yeah, well we have to go now or we won’t be allowed. So, right this way!” He guided us through the mass of submarines to a bright orange one with black lineing. “Woah,” I whispered. “Cool, right?”Scarlett nudged me. “Yeah,” I said softy. Willow’s dad went around the left side of the
Surely in life, you have experienced rejection. Suddenly substituting a significant lost before allowing ourselves mend from that hurtful reality. Maybe pursued counseling for a failing marriage yet the ending results were divorcing. Perhaps trying to overcome the pain of betrayal by a friend or family member. Is it possible had an interview didn't meet the qualifications for the job and feel like a failure?