Turner Gantt 9/23/15 Childhood Object Memoir Throughout my childhood, I had a strong obsession with Star Wars. I watched all of the movies, played most of the video games, and bought many action figures and toys affiliated with Star Wars. My neighborhood was filled only with little girls my sister could play with so I was lonely. Because of this, I played with my action figures all the time. My favorite was my General Grievous action figure from the second and third prequel movie. I thought he was the coolest looking character out of every other one in the franchise. I liked him so much that I named my pet lizard after him. I would stay up late playing with the action figure and many others well after when I was supposed to be asleep. …show more content…
Once on a hot summer day, I was playing in my pool with my figures. The water was a little murky and hard to see through. I was in the deep end though when I dropped my Grievous figure where it sunk into the blueish green abyss and disappeared. I panicked knowing I couldn’t swim to the bottom and snatch it up so I instead sobbed for 20 straight minutes until my dad got home and fished it out with a pool net. It was a dark moment in my childhood, a scar I will never forget. I’ve even once got into a fist-fight with a friend because I saw him steal it. He ended up with many scratches and bruises but we made up and I got my Grievous back. After that though, I would hide it as if I was a dog hoarding and stowing away a bone. Like most of my Star Wars action figures, I had multiple versions of General Grievous which I have actually given away most of along with others over the years, but I have cherished one version which I haven’t given away. I given all but one copy to all of my friends who were sad or that I would never see again, as well as other Star Wars crazy kids that were like me. All I wanted to do was share the same feelings I had when I was a little kid. Throughout the future, my box of action figures will grow smaller but the happiness of other children will grow larger. All that will be left will be the General
In a world filled with so much anxiety and distrust either socially or politically it 's so important to take a step back and appreciate where we are and how we got to the places we are now. We are all here for one purpose and that 's to make meaningful connections s with others and help each other along the way. I may not know where I 'll be within the next five years or if I 'll have made it in the industry. But right now I do know that younger me would have just been thankful to experience the waves crashing against
A bitter-sweet story of my childhood was in half day kindergarten we had a meeting with our parents and the teacher at the end of the year and the first two kids to get to her classroom got a fish. I was the first and I got fish and its name was Snowflake. I died about two weeks later so me and my mom went to Walmart and bought a new one.
As lifeless as she looked, her eyes were open. Smothered underwater in a baby pool on the back porch, I ran to her aid thinking she was no longer alive. Fortunately, she was still breathing and I cautiously dragged her out of the water. Tears streamed down my face as I shook her limp body in an attempt to bring her to consciousness. As a fourth grader, this was a horrendous experience, however, several other of my mother’s drunken episodes were just as terrifying.
My six word memoir is very self explanatory and purely honest. When someone close to you dies, I wouldn’t say it gets easier each year. But in fact it takes time to accept it. We can’t continue to have a mindset that repeats phrases like, “ What if?” or “ If only we could’ve done this…” We can’t go back change the natural occurrences of events. But what we can change is the here
My 6 word memoir does not describe myself, but it does describe who I strive to be. Along with many of my classmates, our generation is made up of texting, social media and a lack of social abilities. We can go days without having a meaningful conversation or one at all and that gets to me. Today instead of confronting people about issues we have with each other, we hide behind our phones and ignore people through what we see as a read receipt. Lately my goal has been to shy away from most communication through social media and actually have a conversation with the people I am trying to reach.
My personal Artifact is a baseball my son and I caught at the Giants game. It is white, round, has red stitches, and is smooth when new, but when we caught it it was beat up and the blue writing on it was smeared. A baseball is small and light in size. It can be thrown at speeds up to 100 MPH, or hit at at speeds higher than 100MPH, so when playing the game or watching you should be paying attention at all times. A baseball is made of a rubber or cork center, wrapped in yarn very tight, covered by white leather with red stitching around the out side, making it a very hard ball.
There isn’t much I remember from elementary school, I never thought anything I did before jr high really mattered. However there is one thing I won’t be able to forget about. Not because it was particularly significant to me, but because it was significant to my father who always brings it up. I’m sure if he hadn’t reminded me of it so frequently I would’ve forgot about it a long time ago. You see, in fifth grade I had a really scrawny nerdy friend who’d get picked on quite often for being like so, and one day he told his dad who also worked with my father and told him that I would stand up for him when he was getting bullied.
My artifact is a fox pinch pot. It was handmade by me. Choosing colors, it ended up orange and black. My pinch pot is important because it was something I made. Every pinch made, took valuable time and endless effort.
So, I decided to throw a tantrum in the pool and everyone just stared at me in horror and my grandpa said he would only give my favorite lizard back if I stopped crying. Surprisingly, that was not the only thing that was dreadful about that day. When I finally stopped crying, I decided to poop in the pool. As soon as someone saw that, they immediately swam away. My mom quickly jumped in the pool with a cup to scoop the poop.
but i like the way he protects the goonies and saves them at the end of the movie. Hes looks like a big scary monster but hes a sweet little guy on the inside. My favorite part with him is at the end when he rips of his shirt and its the superman logo, and his brother says ¨well you really messed up now.¨ Sloth isnt much diffrent from you and I.
No one can tell a war story better than a warrior himself. A work of fiction by Tim O’Brien called The Things They Carried conveys a strong message through several experiences displaying that even though the dead are no longer living, their stories will forever live. In his piece, a group of young soldiers serve in the Vietnam war risking their safety while carrying the burden of concrete and abstract objects. O 'Brien 's powerful collection of stories has allowed me to better understand the reality of war, how quickly innocence can be lost, and the true meaning of loyalty.
My Memoir Why are there no lines? Why are there no goals? Why were the benches not moved? Just some of the things that went wrong on 9/12/15. That is the day my soccer team won 8-0 at our first home soccer game. The tensions were high and we were stressed no lines or goals.
The anticipation of the first born is filled with a mixture of excitement, anxiety, and pain. My pregnancy had been normal and healthy. I did not have any problems or concerns during my whole pregnancy. With my due date approaching, I expected the birth of my child would be the happiest time of my life. However, a serious of avoidable and unfortunate events caused by my doctor and nurses lead me to have a horrifying experience.
My neighbor drowned when she was five-years-old. She was swimming at a friends house. When no one was watching she jumped in the deep end. She didn’t know how to swim, so she never was able to come back up after going under. Her parents were busy with her younger siblings, so they didn’t see her jump.
We start our lives by molding our minds with the help of scholars along with childhood authors. Our minds grow through interactions and new experiences helping us with the basics. As in the walking, babbling that fills the first two to three years before the real learning begins. I feel our real development becomes prevalent when our eyes scan the pages of our first image filled book. As we slowly grow to learn new words, and have more experiences through the pages, our minds expand.