What Does It Mean To Be Responsible Essay

Being accountable is something a lot of people typically avoid. In many instances of our lives, and in our country and our society, there are times where people aren't accountable and don't own up to what they're doing. Social and political problems are abound in this country from people not being accountable and responsible for what they do. Our country is full of instances, playing out everywhere, of people who make poor

The world is constantly becoming an increasingly more dangerous place, and in this day and age, everything has a warning label. Whether it’s a hairdryer, a computer keyboard, or even a simple toy, all manufactured products and structures around us have a label stuck on the side to protect us. It seems as if at least one person has managed to hurt themselves with every product and attraction in the world. The poem “We Are Not Responsible” by Harryette Muller uses a familiar format, repetition, and underlying meanings to poke fun at the rules and norms of the society every one of us strive to achieve in.

Personal responsibility to me means taking accountability for your own actions, Making a commitment and sticking to it. In order to be a success in college, you have to apply your life learned lessons to the equation, to balance both school and out of school priorities. Because You are responsible for the choices you make, you are ultimately responsible for your success. Becoming a master organizer and learning how to manage your time efficiently, will help you achieve your goals. Taking responsibility for all that happens while you are in college will help you prevail in areas, where you may have lacked confidence. Critical thinking and a desire to succeed will help you accomplish your goals.

Monday is the worst day of the week. Sunday just ended, and it is time to go back to school. The bad test grade that was forgotten about over the weekend is now laying turned over on top of the desk. A small tear lands on the paper as the teacher checks over the correct answers. It seems like nothing will erase the horrific sight of the grade that stained the paper. Monday’s throw off the rhythm from the past week, and trying to get back into a routine can be rather difficult. The lack of sleep

It was the beginning of what was looking to be a long week. It was supposed to be outrageously cold, I had a full weekend of work to look forward too, and I had a big paper due in my Comp II class. Now, this paper was different because instead of being in our Comp II class all week like we were accustomed too, we would be on our own in the library while we individually went to speak with our teacher about how we were doing. During first semester, I had really liked the week on our own, but this week was going to throw a curve on me that I didn’t expect.

The started off just like it did every monday. I grabbed a coffee and a sausage, egg, and cheese biscuit. I drove my truck into the parking lot and parked in my regular spot. I didn’t see any students, so I thought Mrs. Trinidad had either postponed the school day or she had a surprise assembly and they were all in the Auditorium. Right before I went into the west building I seen Mrs. Trinidad walking frantically to her car. I knew there was something wrong.

Introduction: It was just a standard Monday, little did I know my life would never be the same again. I tied my shoes, applied some makeup, got dressed for the day, and drove my black Mazda to school. I blasted my music on the radio to the point where I could feel the bass run through my body. I watched the rain droplets streak across my windscreen. The trees outside howled in the wind, dark heavy clouds filled the sky.

It was a gloomy Monday morning. The trees swayed back and forward in the dim, murky sky. I walked over to the bus stop alone with my hair getting swooshed into my face. I walk one foot after the other thinking about all homework to come this week.

My Monday had started out like any other normal Monday in high school. I woke up late, rushed around to get ready, and off to class I went. At 11:05 a.m. every day I was released from class at Locust Grove High School and I traveled to Northeast Technology Center in Pryor to attend Pre-Nursing class for the rest of my day. At NTC, as a high school student, we had the opportunity to take classes there tuition free. We had a substitute in class that day, so, of course, we convinced her

The light from the warm sun streamed through the blinds and bounced off my eyelids as my obnoxious alarm yelled to me that it was time for school. I refused to believe that I had to awake from my fantasy dreams and move out of my heavenly bed, so I aggressively snagged my phone to press snooze, for the fifth time of course. Getting up for school has always been a dying task for me. The thought of leaving my toasty hot blankets and actually getting ready to go to a place that looked like a filthy prison, all just to receive a cheap education through our pathetic government was at the bottom of my list of things to do. Of course eventually I got out of bed, but that was not my choice, it was my mom’s. After my mother’s many threats of being grounded, I rolled out of bed uttering several moans and groans. The moment the sheets slipped off my silky soft pajamas, and I stepped onto the icy, cold hardwood floor my body was overwhelmed with sadness. My poor attitude and I stomped down the stairs and grabbed the first decent thing in the pantry to eat for breakfast. This morning it was cheerios without the milk because I was feeling extra lazy. After eating the honey glazed cardboard, I decided that maybe I should actually get ready. I stared into my closet while simultaneously throwing almost every article of clothing I grabbed to the ground because it simply wasn’t going to match my light, ripped denims. With boiling frustration, I ran to my mother’s closet and grabbed one of her

Man was I wrong, school was a disaster. I guess that when you forget about the football game in the next town, which the whole school is attending you will be the only one there that day. THe sign on the locked front doors stated that classes would resume as usual on Monday. Great. My day just went from bad to worse. The bus didn’t even come until 3, if it was still running. Feeling completely alone but not ready to give up just yet, I treated myself to a cheesy, store bought cake, if Molly Ringwald had her own pity cake, so would I. Approaching the grocery store I felt the eerie quiet, as crisp fall leaves blew across the vacant street, a silence seemed to ring through the emptiness of the town.

    The day of school, that was as slow as a turtle, had just ended. I am on my way home on the rambunctious bus. The bus ride where all the rowdy children are letting out all their energy that was bottled up all day. Singing along with the radio, talking, more like yelling, to their friends, or just jumping from seat to seat.I am sitting on the gray leathery seat alone, which are hard as rocks, feeling my butt gradually going numb. Thinking about how this bus ride seems like an eternity. I notice that the bus is nearing the long gravel road it drops me off at, I stand up from my seat and swing my backpack over my shoulder. I start walking down the aisle; as I walk, seeing all the little legs move from the aisle to their seat so I can make my way to the front of the bus. I hear the squeaky doors open and I tell my bus driver thanks. I am outside and the fresh autumn air fills my lungs.

When a company makes a strategic decision it is important to evaluate the impact of the ethical consequences toward the company and the stakeholders. Often a company will make a strategic plan based on profit; however, social responsibility looks outside of profits and determines the effects on all stakeholders including customers, environment, and society. In addition, the strategic decision should also be based on the code of ethics set forth by the organization. Furthermore, when determining the development of a strategic plan, the organization may either use the views of Milton Friedman or Archie Carroll (Wheelen, 2010).

Today was another lousy Monday, just like last week. Everything Samantha did was scheduled. She lived a very busy life in New York City. If it wasn’t on her schedule she wouldn’t make time for it. Except today all of that changed. It started early in the morning. The day was stormy and extremely rainy. The storms got carried away and knocked the power out. That led her to being late for work because her alarm had not gone off. When she finally woke up on her own, she went into a panic! Samantha hasn’t been late to work in over ten years. She rushed around her apartment getting dressed and fixing her hair. On her way out of the apartment she read a text from her boyfriend Michael. The text was explaining that today is Valentine’s Day and he wanted to take her out to dinner. She replied back saying she would go. While she was walking outside from the apartments she thought to herself, “Crap. How could I forget that today was Valentine’s Day? I’m late for work and it’s rainy outside. How could this day get any worse?” She then stood on the sidewalk and hailed a taxi. The taxi took off and she was finally on her way to work. She made it to work and got a huge lecture from her boss. She had never been late before so she couldn’t understand why he was so mad at her. It was a long, slow, and uneventful day at work. Boy was she glad to be getting out of there that evening. Outside the sky was dark but the stars were bright. She stood under a lamp post and hailed a taxi so she could

It started as any other Friday. I had just walked home from school. My brother, Ethan, was already there when I opened the door and walked into my house. He always got out of school early on Friday. My mom came around the corner and said “Hi Alex! How was school?” I told her it was ok. I went through the normal routine of throwing my backpack next to my desk to do any work after I ate. I sat down at the table and my mother gave me some tomato pasta to eat for lunch. After I finished eating I went back to my desk. I found that for once, I had very little, only two pages of math. I thought to myself “What a sight for sore eyes.” I plugged in my headphones and went to work. Around forty-five minutes later I had finished and realized I had all