Practice was miserable, I grabbed my water bottle and phone and sprinted out of the gym as fast as my tired legs could move. I cried to my mom the whole drive home, begging her to take me off of the team. She told me to not get frustrated, she said if I hated it after a month she would take me out. I solemnly agreed and pushed myself into another month’s worth of what I thought was going to be hell. I went in with a negative attitude, but I remember walking out of that gym after every practice having accomplished something new.
She takes her anger out on the youngest daughter, Rose. Usually Camille would redirect Cookie’s rage, but Camille hasn’t been home for months. So, Regina intervenes, and Cookie responds by beating her to the edge of consciousness. A teacher suspects abuse and reports the family to a social worker. One day, Regina comes home to find a social worker waiting to speak to her.
Just like that, we began the outstretched journey to Brownsville, Texas. The van didn’t work, and it was cramped. Short to say, the ride there wasn’t the most enjoyable ride. Alyssa, my close friend of three years, my mom, my sister and her close friend were the ones that were coming with us to Texas. We had been so excited for months for this trip.
The Odyssey and Speak both have many common archetypes. The characters suffer, and they go through rebirth and they also go through a sense of loss. In Speak Melinda was raped by one of her classmates and was keeping it a secret her entire freshman year, in the Odyssey, Odysseus was trapped on Calypso’s island for years and was forced to lay with Calypso. The characters’ rebirth in The Odyssey and Speak are both very similar; Melinda finally realizes it is okay to tell someone if something like that happens to her, and Odysseus finally makes it home and is able to feel clean again, and to be with his love Penelope. In both readings, the main characters go through a sense of loss, Odysseus is physically lost at sea, and is trying to make it back home, and Melinda has lost sense of who she is and doesn’t feel herself anymore.
Overworked. That’s the closest word that I could use to describe this week. I feel like this journal is going to be about me just bickering, yet there is some stuff you might want to read about. First of all, I have been sleeping three hours this week because of upcoming midterms, quizzes, and assignments due. I am sleep deprived and mentally drained and as my second year in college I have never had my life drained out of my body like a passing shadow.
The paper processing about me and my mom immigrating here took so many years, almost ten years to be exact. With those years, my mom did not even tell me that I will be coming here to Hawaii with her and that made me mad. She only told me when we had to do our interviews and medical process. The feeling of leaving my hometown, relatives, friends, classmates, my siblings and my dad hit me so hard. I was miserable for quite a while.
I was living in a rather small cabin with eight, ten-year-old girls and my best friend was not there to keep me from going crazy. It was in my hands to ensure they created lifelong memories that summer. I struggled a lot during these four weeks, maybe from exhaustion or from all of the arguments I had to resolve within the cabin. But one night, after my campers were asleep, I was sitting in my bed when another counselor, Ana, came up to the screen and demanded that I follow. She and another fellow counselor
She stood there for 5 seconds breathing heavily and stomping upstairs. Other such instances occurred throughout the day and into the next I later found out that my brother did something very… irregular at school. Unfortunately I cannot go into details, because my mother forced me to erase the section in which the situation was clearly stated for reasons unknown to me. Finally my mother is very meticulous. This is clearly shown to me whenever she cooks.
I remember my grandma coming home and I had my door locked, my little sister was so scared she went and got my grandma. My grandma told me to get dressed and get in the car, as I was getting to the car my grandma got a phone call. My great great grandma had passed just then. That whole week I didn’t talk, and I cried all the time. My great great grandma Knott was a amazing person, she was my inspiration.
We got back to the house and that’s when I saw a sign that said sold, and this time I started crying on the inside and the outside. My mom, asked “What’s wrong?” “told her I never wanted to move!” and ran into my room crying in anger and sadness. Just about a week later I asked some of my friends if they would help me pack up some boxes and say our