The Stamp Act-Personal Narrative

Losing a parent is presumably an unthinkable concept for those lucky to have them alive, but sometimes the title of “parent” dies long before a body is placed in the ground. Toi Derricotte author of “Beginning Dialogues” unfortunately had to experience both the death of her mother’s title of “parent”, as well as her literal death. Derricotte’s parents had divorced when she was eighteen, and her father did not seem to play much of a role in her life; she was left to be raised by her mentally abusive mother. Her mother also had a tough road to walk growing up, having to face and deal with brutal issues like racism and bulling. Persevering through those tough times may be the underlining reason behind Derricotte’s mother’s negativity and abuse towards her daughter. Perhaps she just grew a thick skin at a very young age and had never learned how to feel, accept, or administer love. Derricotte’s had said: “She told me all my life she loved me, as if she completely forgot the hundred slights, humiliations, threats, and insinuations. Of course she loved me;

     The passing of the Stamp Act by Parliament in 1765 caused a rush of angry protests by the colonists in British America that perhaps "aroused and unified Americans as no previous political event ever had." It levied a tax on legal documents, almanacs, newspapers, and nearly every other form of paper used in the colonies. Adding to this hardship was the need for the tax to be paid in British sterling, not in colonial paper money. Although this duty had been in effect in England for over half a century and was already in effect in several colonies in the 1750?s, it called into question the authority of Parliament over the overseas colonies that had no representation therein.

The Stamp Act, known for creating many types of resistances between the colonists and the British Parliament, required all American colonists to pay a tax on all printed pieces of paper the colonists used. The British parliament created this act to increase prosperity, have a more organized government and colony, and to abuse the colonists’ wealth and freedom. Many people opposed the Stamp Act, thinking that it was completely unfair and uncivilized. There were three resistances against the Stamp Act; all which made an end to the taxation of the Stamp Act. The three resistances that made an impact on the Stamp Act include legislative resistance by the elites, economical resistance, and protests.

Greetings, madness is taking over the colonies. Men are screaming and women and children are crying. England has just issued the Stamp Act. The Stamp Act was passed by the British Parliament on March 22, 1765. The new tax was imposed on all American colonists and required them to pay a tax on every piece of printed paper they used. (history.org) My family supports the Patriots, so we have known how unfair England can be. My family is very upset about what has happened. Speaking of my family, we are the Evans from the Massachusetts Bay Colony. My father Walter, and my mother, Sarah, work very hard to make our family successful. My brother Adam is eighteen and he works on my father’s shipyard. I am sixteen and I help my mother with anything she needs, but I also do my chores on my own as well. As I said before, we are Patriots and we are trying to get our representation in England. All we want currently is a spot in Parliament to represent the colonies. The Stamp Act has just made us fight harder. My family is helping the rebels, and trying to earn a spot in Parliament because we believe that our colonies are suffering due to their actions, such as the horrible Stamp Act.

The American Revolution was not the consequence of any single event or any single legislation. It was a result of some combined factors playing against the wellbeing of the colonists and imposed upon the colonists by the British government. But a series of laws related to taxation which were passed between 1763 and 1775 can be considered as one of the most important factors which instigated the American Revolution. It was in respect of responding to such legislations that debate began on what should be the appropriate nature of such response. For opined that the response to such impractical and overburdening legislations must be vent through proper ways of discussions and deliberations while some others

“Mom!” Hugging her finally, after months, Veronica realized why she hadn’t been able to come up with anything to say; she hadn’t been looking for her mom to say anything to her, she’d just wanted to hug her, just wanted to see her. “We’ve been looking for you, Mom, you haveta come home. I need you - Dad needs you, things are better now, things are okay,” Pressing her face into her mom’s shoulder, Veronica could smell the stink of her mother’s alcoholism and knew things were far from

“Welcome home Father! We have missed you so much,” I cried. “Thank you, Mary I’ve missed you as well,” he said with a quick smile quickly turning back into a frown. “What is the matter; did I do something wrong,” I say getting frightened. “Oh no sweetheart, it is definitely not you it’s just that... never mind. Where is your mother?” “She went outdoors to hang the laundry,” I replied, biting my lip knowing that it’s my job to do the laundry.”Thank you,” he yells, already out the door. As I make my way outside, I see my father worriedly talking to my mother as a look of

While the two women search the attic, a quilt starts up Naomi’s curiosity. This quilt compelled her to seek an answer to a mature question that would define her life forever; Why did my mother not return? She pleaded with Obasan for an answer; Obasan would not budge. I would have rejection and a parent’s rejection can fuel a child’s life, whether positive or negative. In my life I never had to worry about the love of my mother, it was my father’s that made me wonder. After the age of six, I grew up with my mother, sister and my grandfather, loved by all, except my father. At first I thought, I just needed to work harder so he would be proud when he, one day sees me on TV. Grade seven came and my father died so I was left with curiosity. I did not know why he left, I did not know what a father was, I just did not know. “Please tell me about” ( Joy K, Obasan, 31) my father, I would say, hoping to hear he was a hero or something that would make me believe he was capable of loving me just circumstances made it impossible. Like Naomi I got hugs and all the wrong kinds of comfort. “Where is she now? My arms are suffused with urge to hold, but a hug would startle

He walked sluggish up the stairs to go to bed, I ran towards mom to see if she was okay, I saw her face filled with fear and it looks like she wasn’t in this world anymore, like she was off, lost in her conscience. I felt suddenly like I wasn’t home, like I just walked into a different world with parents I didn’t even recognize. I left my mom in her mess of thoughts and ran upstairs a little wary that my dad would pop out. I shut my door silently and just sat on my bed, wondering what happened to Clover and hoping she’ll come back home soon, no wait this is not my home anymore.

“I never thought of doing that. Plus we will get in trouble, go to jail, or worse, die!” said My dad.

I couldn’t bare the idea of losing her. I tiptoed downstairs as silently as possible while frantically scanning the house. I spotted light coming from under the kitchen door which had been left ajar. Hearing hushed screams, I made my way towards it. It sounded like my mother so I peaked inside only to see my father menacingly towering over the kitchen counter and my mother on the other side. I was frozen and just kept looking at them. I shouldn’t have because when I looked closer I saw the hatred in each other’s eyes and something I thought I would never see in my mother’s reddened eyes … tears. My dad’s fists were tightened to the point where his knuckles where white and his face was hard while he spat every single word with venom. I don’t know how my mother managed, but she met his glare and kept her stance while looking equally mad. I couldn’t hear what they where saying at that time because I was so surprised. This scene, I can never unsee. I can’t tell how much time I stayed there watching them, but I deduced that what seemed to be like forever was maybe a few minutes. Thankfully they were so engrossed in their conversation, that they didn’t notice

Within the hour the phone rings and I hear Grandmother softly crying. As she calls other family, I slowly piece together an account of the day from her side of the conversation. Mom’s being transported by ambulance to a nearby emergency room for attempted suicide. Sadness grips my chest sucking air from my lungs. Somewhere within my trusting innocence, I expect Dad or Mom to walk through the door; I yearn for reassurance.

“Mom? dad? anyone home?” I walked into the kitchen and laid my bags on the table. “May ?” I hear my mom’s calm voice echo through the empty house. My palms started to slide off the table where I had placed my hands to lean on. I tried to build up the courage to go find my mom, but I didn’t have to I heard the loud echoes from her heels get louder and louder as she got closer to me. Before I saw her face I asked “could I go to the movies with Tom, Jenny, and friends?”

I woke up that morning around ten o’clock. I was in a very good mood, my eyes were a bright green and my smile was blooming for the first time in a while. I went into the kitchen and was about to get waffles out of the freezer when my mom came out of her room. “Rachel,” she had said with a sorrowful look on her face, that I hadn't yet noticed, “sit down. I need to talk to you.”My mood had faded instantly, “What did I do,” I had asked. The words she had spoken next were not what I had expected. “ You did not do anything,” she said with a small smile, which had quickly faded. “ It's about your Daddy,” and in an instant I knew that he was gone. I felt as if my chest was going to explode. I put a hand over my stomach and another over my mouth trying to keep from crying, but I had failed. “He shot himself this morning, around one o’clock.” The pain of the words that she had said was unbearable. I would never get to make things right with Daddy, it was because Elaine had finally pushed him too far. He had lost everything because of her, including his life. Immediately I started blaming myself, especially at the memorium. I kept telling myself that maybe if I would have kept going over to his house, he would have seen that he had something to live

At that moment, my heart shattered into a thousand little pieces. The words my mom spoke were too cumbersome to handle. Running until I made it into my room, I dropped to the ground, crying quietly. My dad knocked on my bedroom door. I had no intentions of speaking to anyone, but he came in regardless. “Gabby? Are you alright?” “No, I’m not! I won’t leave, what about all of my friends and family?” I aggressively shouted, starting to tear up. “I’m not leaving everyone I love, not now, I can’t.” He came into my room with a concerned look washed over his face.