The summer rays beating down on the sun dried grass, the faint ring of the tune of an ice cream truck is fading as it gets farther and farther away from our car. Mom and Dad are playing the license plate game in the front seat while I pull my white beaten up earbuds out of my pocket. As I am skipping through my playlist, I hear a quick scream that is soon cut off by a crash then everything fades. That is a day I will never forget, I can still remember every detail, being carried away by the paramedics, covered in glass shards and debris from the crash. A car had spun out of control and and sent us tumbling off the the long backroad into a nearby ditch. The driver of the other car had survived with some broken bones and cuts. Unfortunately I …show more content…
I honestly have no clue how he can keep on a smile because I tear up everytime I hear their names, and I can’t even think about what I’m going to do when I go back to school. When I was little I couldn’t wait to be a “big kid” a strong, confident, senior at Lockland High School in Cincinnati, Ohio.That wasn’t the reality of it at all, I was scared, the judging, the pity, I dreaded going back to that horrid place. Days go by quickly, wake up, eat, counseling, sleep and it …show more content…
I grab the clothes and walk to the small white tiled bathroom. As I’m changing I hear a deep soothing voice speaking to the doctors, my brother knocks on the door and calmly asks if I’m ready to go “home”. Although it’s where I’ll be living I’m not sure that it’s home. I walk outside, a cool breath of air skims across my skin, the yellow and red leaves of Autumn falling from the trees. The half hour ride to the house is fairly silent, the broken radio making the occasional subtle static. I look out the dirt coated window, street signs passing briefly by the car, “Welcome to Cincinnati”. “JUst a few more minutes now.” Logan says, breaking the silence between us. It’s weird to be on my own metaphorically, no nurse button, no lunch at twelve everyday. I had been in the hospital so long I had forgotten what it feels like to be in the “real world” for a change, and do things for myself. We begin to pull into the cracked, washed out concrete driveway. I step out of the car medications in hand and head inside. Most of the house’s interior is painted a sky blue color with pictures lining the wall, family
It was bad enough that the car had to break down, but at night, in the snow, in the middle of God knows wherever he was, it was a fitting end to his bad week. Tub, who had fallen asleep, a rose expecting to be at the hospital to only see the sight of darkness and scary woods. “Where the hell are we?” Tub screamed in fear. “This is not the hospital!”
For many people, the childhood house they grew up in has countless memories, both good and bad. However, the concept of home is not confined to a single house or location-- instead, home is mostly made by the people in it. Although this can sometimes be forgotten, the home matters far more than the house. The experiences someone goes through in their home serve as lessons that over time begin to shape their view of the world and themselves. In Jeannette Walls’
Growing up in a family where my mom was a doctor and my dad was a musician, I was exposed to a lots of things in my life. For example I was able to see Broadway plays and and go on family trips to Disney every year in the winter. A lot of people would say I was very fortunate to be one of the family where I knew both my parents and they did there best to give me a lot of life experiences. But me being an African-American male it seems like I not supposed to how do experiences, I was supposed to not know my father not to be able to go on these trips with my family.
He hands me a pass, and lifts the gate. After a congested freeway, I welcome the lush environment of tall grass and drought resistant plants on both sides of the unoccupied street. My mom’s door is open when I pull up into the driveway and park. Even outside the house, the smell of burnt toast hits my nostrils. Sure enough, after hugs we mosey into the kitchen where I see her discarded breakfast in the sink.
Heaved I ever experience racism? How did it make me feel? Yes, I have experience racism. It was not the best feeling ever it made me feel like crap. It’s funny how people make you feel if you’re a different race.
Jackson’s heart sped as he ran towards his home. He could hear the pumping of his heart and the sound of his feet hitting the concrete. He turned onto his street and immediately slowed down, the door to his house sat wide open. The door let out a creak as his fingers grazed against the dark oak. In the living room, a light haired man sat facing the door.
The clock keeps ticking, and the house continues to move through its normal routines. Each hour that passes is just a painful reminder that the family is gone. They will never enjoy another day in their house. The nursery walls “took shape: yellow giraffes,... [and] lilac panthers” and they made noises (2).
From the time my most recent pair of unworn shoes, usually laying in the depths of the closet, hits the dirt I feel like everything disappears. Everything in the real world is pushed away like leaves in the wind. Its just me and my mind alone for the couple hours of peace and thought up to come. Making my way up the trail I’m surrounded by a countless number of tree’s towering over me like doctors while
Maya Angelou once said, “Your ancestors took the lash, the branding iron, humiliations and oppression because one day they believed you would come along to flesh out the dream.” I am a black woman who isn’t tragically cursed by the color of my skin but privileged to to understand the trials of my ancestors. Within the works of Lorraine Hansberry, Zora Hurston, and Alice Walker, I have learned that as a black woman I must never let my creative mind go to waste because of the great oppression my ancestors have faced. Coming to Spelman has made me go through many challenges and has helped me to think outside of the box. With just reading the works of these creative black women and going in depth of these works has taught me lessons of how to appreciate my ancestry, to continue the dream, and never be afraid to take that jump with the knowledge that I am given.
He let's out a deep exhale of breath and removes his hands. Grabbing his car keys from the ignition he leaves the car and heads to the entrance of the book store. Tyler pulled open the front door, a bell jingling softly making him smile. He stepped inside and the door shut behind him, ringing the bell again. A small smell of cinnamon enveloped him, making him feel more at peace than ever.
We’re all separated, living different lives, but we’re good and stable. Others just know the outcome of how my family is right now while a few know the whole story. My home has so many memories I don’t want to remember, but it has shaped who I am today, especially being separated from my little brother and the events leading up to it. In Joan Didion, “On Going Home”, the author talks about how difficult it is going back home to her family in the Central Valley of California and how uneasy it gets going back.
thesis: 1) proper education can inspire a positive attitude to racism 2) education helps racial students to move from intolerance to acceptance and understanding of cultural difference 3) education provides cognitive skills, which increases people’s captivity people’s capacity to detect prejudice and to reject it. Is Education the Best Inversion Against Racism? The ex Prime minister of Britain Tony Blair has always insisted the importance of education in preventing racism. According to Tony Blair some people are born to be bad, you can’t stop people from being bad (Blair, T. Education backs Lessons Against racism 1999.) proper education can help get rid of prejudice and changes in the national curriculum of the British educative system whereby
“Racism distorts our sense of danger and safety. We are taught to live in fear of people of color. We are exploited economically by the upper class and unable to fight or even see this exploitation because we are taught to scapegoat people of color (Kivel, P).” This quote from the article, The Cost of Racism to White People, barely digs at one of the reasons why racism still occurs in today’s world. There are many motives out there for why racism still occurs.
Racism: Why It Should Be Taught To Children Racism has, and always has had, a great effect on American society. Still to this day, even after the civil war over slavery in the 19th century and the anti-segregation movements of the 20th century, countless peoples still face ridicule over the color of their skin or the shape of their face. If it were to be taught in schools that judging someone based on their appearance is bad, then perhaps there wouldn’t be such an integration of racism in modern American society. Not simply learning ‘don’t be a racist’ in a high school social studies course while half asleep or thinking of what’s for lunch, but the concept of just how much it can affect someone’s life in such a negative way should be taught to children throughout their whole school careers. Without outwardly influence, children are proven to be unbiased.
As I approach the house, I smell the old musty smell of the house. When I step on the front steps of the house, I hear a creak from underneath the floorboards. With every step, it seems like the creaking gets louder. I rap my hands around the dusty door handle and slowly pull open the unlocked door. The inside looks like what you’d expect.