Preserving illinois wetlands Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 750 words

Preserving illinois wetlands - Essay Example The achievement of the measures will be put in to analysis together with how the goals and objectives of wetlands preservation in Illinois have been effective. Wetlands conservation is of international concern because they are transitional area between the open water and the dry land. They serve many function such recharging the ground and sea water, providing habitats to fish and other aquatic organisms, they also protect floods damage and improves water quality by purifying to reduce on chemicals and other harmful bodies. These benefits increase the need to preserve the wetlands. There has been establishment of Illinois Wetlands Conservation Strategy (IWCS) which is a comprehensive plan to guide the implementation and development the wetlands protection initiatives. The goal of the IWCS is to ensure there are no losses of wetlands or the functional value of wetlands is lost. Their objective is to develop and implement an ecosystem strategy that is directed towards protection, restoration and conservation of wetlands (Dunne & Knapp, 11-26). Agencies such Ducks unlimited introduced a method where it would purchase land from original owners to safe it from destruction. The government funds those agencies that work towards conservation of the wetlands which acts as a motivator to agencies to work towards such a course (Mitsch & Gosselink, 24-36). The measures have been effective in conservation of the wetlands. Ducks unlimited have registered success where it have bought the encroached land from their original owners and uses them as homes for ducks and other birds. IWSC have registered success in its implementation of the various policies which it has formulated to protect and conserve wetlands. The agencies have registered success in restoration of the wetlands where they have been able to buy land and plants trees and other plantations which will act as habitat for animals and birds. The government policy to fund agencies has

Racial Differences in the Corrections System Essay Example for Free

Racial Differences in the Corrections System Essay â€Å"According to Black Star Project Executive Director, Phillip Jackson, in 2007 there were 321 African American men enrolled at Northwestern University (1.7 percent of the student body) but four times that number – 1,207- imprisoned at Western Illinois Correctional Center (60 percent of the prison population)† (Walker, Spohn Delone, 2012). This is only one example of the astounding percentage of young black men currently serving jail time as opposed to pursuing a college education. Something must be vitally wrong with our criminal justice system, since it allows these staggering numbers to hold truth. Overall the total percentage of young African American males is almost five times more than that of their young white or Hispanic male counterparts. I find this statistic very disturbing and chose to research the why and how this is occurring. There are many possible reasons such as limited access to public health clinics, racial profiling, unfair judicial systems, racial differences in judges, lawyers, and law makers, poverty, and parental upbringing; to name a few. How do these young men get sucked into a life of crime, do they have an alternative or a role model to seek counsel form? The numbers do not lie and there must be sound reasons behind them. In this paper I will research and discuss the various reasons why young African American males are grossly over represented in the criminal justice and corrections facilities. While the overall white population is higher than the African American population, 10.4 percent of African American men between the ages of 25-29 can expect to spend time in jail, compared with 2.4 percent of Hispanics and 1.2 percent of white men. Throughout this paper I will discuss not only the staggering numbers but also the reasoning behind them and possible solutions or at the very least a starting point to help fix the problem at hand. â€Å"†¦People of color are disproportionately involved in the criminal justice system, as crime victims, offenders, persons arrested, and persons in prison† (Walker, Spohn Delone, 2012). It Starts at a Young Age There is more than one reason behind the racial imbalance in the criminal justice system. Areas that have been evaluated are parental involvement, peer groups, neighborhoods, the individual, and racial discrimination at all  levels. It appears that the problem is present in the juvenile justice system as well, something is not working right if these children are not receiving the rehabilitation and or help they need to lead a non-criminal life. Redding Arigo, 2005 state this about the number of African American juvenile offenders, â€Å"†¦compromising only 15% of the juvenile population†¦and 57% of the juveniles in state prisons† I decided to discuss juveniles because I found it interesting that they also represented a large number of the criminal offenders in the juvenile justice system in a very similar way that the 25-28 year old African American males do. Several avenues I researched concluded that African American’s have a harder time accessing health facilities such as metal health clinics, where many of the common mental health disorders that criminal offenders suffer from can be treated. â€Å"As many as 70 percent of youth in the system are affected with a mental disorder, and one in five suffer from a mental illness so severe as to impair their ability to function as a young person and grow into a responsible adult† (Hammond, 2007). It seems to me that if we can stop the current process at a young age, why wouldn’t we? Poverty and Single Parent Homes Walker, Spohn Delone state that 9.4 % of white Americans live in poverty compared to a shocking 25.8% of African American’s that live in poverty. There are thousands of studies that link poverty and poor neighborhoods with criminal activity, both victim and criminal. With a quarter of the African American population living at poverty level it is not surprising that they also retain such a large portion of the inmate population. â€Å"Regardless of whether poverty is a cause or an effect, however, the conditions associated with poverty can work against the development of human capital—that is the ability of individuals to remain healthy and develop the skills, abilities, knowledge, and habits necessary to fully participate in the labor force† (Nilsen, 2007). If people are not allowed the opportunity to reach their full potential often times a life of crime if the only way to survive. The United States Government recognizes that there is a link yet the problem still exists. Yes there are federally funded programs such as Medicaid, Food Stamps, and Temporary Assistance for Needy Families, but the poverty level is still alarmingly high. â€Å"The most telling fact about poverty in the  United States is how thoroughly it is ignored† (Royce, 2009). While there is a link between poverty and crime, there is also a link between single parent homes or absentee parent homes and crime as well. The percentage of African American families run by a single parent, usually the mother, is astounding, â€Å"†¦50% of all black households with children under age 18 are headed by black women† (Bush, 2004). Often times the majority of these families live at or below the poverty level, leading to a higher chance of violence and criminal activity. The evidence above begins to show the reasoning behind why African Americans have the highest racial population in prisons. In addition they often are judged harder and serve longer sentences in jail than there non-black counterparts. While racial profiling seems to be a likely source I found various accounts of whether or not it is a direct cause of the higher numbers of African American men in prison, the problem seems to lie further up the judicial system. â€Å"Young African American and Hispanic males, in other words, face greater odds of incarceration than young white males primarily because the commit more serious crimes and have more serious prior criminal records† (Walker, Spohn Delone, 2012). Even though they may commit more serious crimes, when sentenced next to a non-minority for the same crime, their sentences are often longer. Clifford Levy 1996 of the New York Times states,† black and Hispanic people sentenced for minor felonies or misdemeanors in New York were treated more harshly than whites in similar circumstances.† His statements are based on a study released by the Pataki administration. Higher Up the Judicial System Other areas that may lead to the disproportioned numbers in the jails are judges, juries, and lawyers. Next I plan to discuss the differences in race among the judges, juries, lawyers, and law makers. â€Å"The jury is the heart of the criminal justice system† (Cole, 2000). How can racially fair rulings be handed out if the jury consists of mostly non-minorities? Racially biased judgments could be a cause of the difference in numbers in our criminal justice system. â€Å"An analysis of Jefferson Parish, La., by the Louisiana Capital Assistance Center found that from 1999 to 2007, blacks were struck from juries at more than three times the rate of whites† (Dewan, 2010). In  additional differences amongst the jurors, judges and lawyers are mostly white males. â€Å"Combined African American and Hispanic representation among lawyers was 7% in 1998†¦ There are fewer active African American federal appellate judges today than when Jimmy Carter was President† (T he collaboration the, n.d.). The buck does not stop here, the racial inequality continues up the ladder to Congress, the Senate, and the House. The article Do Your Lawmakers Represent all Americans, or is it Time to Change Congress states, â€Å"The U.S. population includes 12 percent African Americans, 9 percent Hispanics, and 3 percent Asian/Pacific Islanders and other groups. Congress, however, is 87 percent white; 85 percent in the House and 96 percent in the Senate.† If fact black members of the three government bodies above are often times questioned about decisions and their backing status far more than their non-minority counterparts. These numbers back the idea that African Americans face a discriminatory criminal justice system that starts at the top. Unfortunately racial biased is still something that is ingrained in most Americans and until the minorities are fairly represented in the government and judicial system, racial inequality within these entities will still exist. Comparison As mentioned previously African American males face longer prison sentences due to the fact that they commit more serious crimes and have longer criminal records, in general, than white Americans. The racial differences also extend to length of time served, higher rate of convictions and prison sentences. â€Å"The national incarceration rate for whites is 412 per 100,000 residents, compared to 2,290 for African Americans and 742 for Hispanics† (Mauer King, 2007). Incarceration rates are directly affected by the sentencing process. As one might expect African Americans and Hispanics face a harsher time during the sentencing process than white Americans. â€Å"Of the estimates of the direct effect of race on sentencing at the state level, 43.2% indicated harsher sentences for blacks, and over a quarter (27.6%) of the estimates on the direct impact of ethnicity registered harsher sentences for Latinos† (Kansal, 2005). Per the U.S. Sentencing Commission’s sourcebook of Federal Sentencing Statistics in 2007 the conviction ratio broken down by race is as follows: whites 28.8%, blacks 24.4%, and Hispanics 43%. Overall the percentage of African American males and Hispanics males that will serve  time in prison compared to white males is significantly higher. Structural Inequality Based on the information above I believe it is apparent that there is severe structural inequality starting at the top with the government down through to the jurors. How can racial unbiased laws be passed if the government writing them is made up the racial majority. It is impossible to truly understand what it is like to be a minority without living it. Some may say they understand and can make unbiased decisions, but the fact remains that without living the lifestyle this is impossible to truly accomplish, which is why African Americans and Hispanics must fight to increase their numbers within the governing bodies. Next the judicial system needs to be addressed; they face the same racial disparities that the government does. White judges and juries are handing out the majority of the convictions and sentences, including those handed out to the minorities. It is evidenced that African Americans face harsher sentences and longer jail times than their white counterparts. â€Å"Efforts should be made to reinstate judicial discretion into the sentencing process to permit judges to craft sentences that accurately reflect the charged conduct and circumstances of the offense and defendant† (Mauer King, 2007). Efforts need to be made to correct the imbalances that the United States criminal justice system currently faces. Conclusion â€Å"To be sure, criminalizing young Black males and warehousing them in jails and prisons will further exacerbate the problems of racial domination and ossify the economic and social inequities structuring their everyday lives† (Hill Lee, 2010). The evidence does not lie; there are sound reasons why African American males between the age of 25-29 have more of their population behind bars. It often times starts at home and works it all the way up to the top. The same problem has been recognized at the juvenile level. African American juvenile offenders represent with a higher number of their population in the criminal justice system. I found some interesting studies that link mental illness to criminal activity. Many families living in poverty have limited access to mental health clinics, thus a possible source of aggression and criminal behavior is going untreated. Poverty levels are still extraordinarily high and it has been proven that living at  or below the poverty level and in rough neighborhoods, leads to criminal activity. As many as 50% of the African American families at or below the poverty level are run by a single parent, leading to even more family strain and stress. Another area that is giving rise to the above mentioned numbers is the fact that the criminal justice system, itself, has very few minority members. The House, Senate, and Congress also are compromised of mostly white. The numbers do not correlated with the overall populations in the United States. White judges, lawmakers, juries, and lawyers comprise over 90% of the judicially system and government bodies. It is easier to understand why minorities are dealt harsher sentences, serve longer jail times, are convicted at a higher rate and hold a larger percentage in the prison system. With the current system in place and the obvious structural inequality within the criminal justice system, I fear that the numbers will not change. Action must be taken to incorporate the minorities into these governing bodies. The issue needs to be addressed at the juvenile level, by helping these troubled teens; their numbers may start to decrease at all age levels. The reasoning behind the numbers has been laid out, is know by most, and yet is still a problem. It is time to make a change, if not 1 in every black male born today will see the inside of a prison cell and this is not acceptable. References Bush, L. (2004). How black mothers participate in the development of manhood and masculinity: What do we know about black mothers and their sons? The Journal of Negro Education, 73(4), 381-391. Retrieved from http://www.jstor.org/discover/10.2307/4129623?uid=3739256uid=2uid=4sid=21101002202873 Cole, D. (1999). No equal justice: Race and class in the american criminal justice system. New York: New. The collaboration the legal profession. (n.d.). Retrieved from http://www.lfoa.org/barnone/barnone_collaboration. Dewan, S. (2010, June 1). Study finds blacks blocked from southern juries. The New York Times. Retrieved from http://www.nytimes.com/2010/06/02/us/02jury.html?_r=1scp=1sq=Blacks Still Being Blocked from Juries in the South, Study Findsst=cse Do your lawmakers represent all americans, or is it time to change congress?. (n.d.).

Childrens Beauty Pageants Essay -- essays research papers fc

  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  It’s 7:OO A.M. on a Saturday, kids everywhere are just waking up ready to watch their favorite line up of Saturday morning cartoons. Marie, a four year old child, is preparing for her long weekend of make-up, hairspray, and gowns. Marie is one of many children who are forced by over-demanding parents who pressure their young and innocent children into many beauty pageants each year, and its wrong.   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Beauty pageants first originated in Atlantic City. It was a marketing tool to make tourists stay in town longer (Banet-Weiser). News struck about this beauty pageant and the local news paper headlined â€Å"The next Miss America†. As beauty pageants grew popular, a Little Miss America was started for parents who wanted their children in the contest.   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  The average beauty pageant costs about $655 which includes the formal wear, sports wear and dance (A&E). The average cost does not include travel, hotel and food, which can be up to an extra two hundred dollars; and in some cases dresses for formal and sports wear can cost up to $12,000 with a minimum of $1500 (A&E). With the vast amount of expenses spent the pressure to win becomes more intense, leaving no room for mistakes. A four year old child should not have to go through the burden of a beauty pageant.   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Preparing for a pageant requires time and patience, hair lasting around an hour and forty-five minutes, make-up around an hour, and different performances that require some participants to practice for about seven hours a week (A&E). All of this is not healthy at a young age. During these pageants children are judged by the following: modeling sportswear and evening wear, how well they dance, and how much talent they have. They are also judged by their looks how well they perform, and how confident they appear.   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Approximately 250,000 children participate in pageants each year (Wolf). Mothers who have children in beauty pageants argue that their children gains a boost of confidence through performing in front of crowds. They are also more socially comfortable around other people, and their children mature at a younger age than â€Å"normal† children do. Isn’t seeing a child â€Å"growing old before my eyes† a bad thing. What parent wants to see their child grow up any... ...m have finished with the first of three long days. She looks at her mom with teary eyes as she walks off stage empty handed. She feels that she has failed her mom and herself. Children at such a young age are very fragile, the do not have the experience to learn that they are still a worthy person even if they lose. Marie sees all of the other children leaving with trophies running towards their parents to give them a hug. As she walks of the stage with nothing and see the disappointment of her parents as they turn away. If that isn’t wrong†¦then what is?   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚   Works Cited A&E. Inside Story: Baby Beauty Queens Banet-Weiser, Sarah. ‘The Most Beautiful Girl in the World: Beauty Pageants and   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  National Identity.† Berkley: University of California Press: 1999. Cawthorne, Andrew. ‘Miss World to emerge from the shadow of deaths,’ (website)   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  http:/http://www.tiscali.co.uk. Date published: 5/12/2002 18:44 Lester, Time. Venzuela Beauty. Foreign Correspondent, (Dated aired) 03/16/2005. Wolf, Naomi. â€Å"The Beauty Myth. London: Vintage: 1990, pg. 288.

Memorable Experience

My Memorable Experience â€Å"I have something to tell you†¦ † There was a pause, her tone was worrying. â€Å"It's your grandfather, he's passed away. † I was stunned: the grandfather who had always been there for me was no longer there. I could feel someone grinding their fist through my stomach; the pain was unbearable. For the first time ever I was lost for words. Tears started to form in my eyes. I could not contain my emotion. All my memories of my grandfather seemed to rush through my head as I sat in my room isolated from the rest of the world.I had been asked to write a speech for the funeral; it seemed a daunting task at first but as my emotions took over, i found I was able to express exactly what I was feeling. The speech read: My grandfather was a man of few words who enjoyed the simple pleasures of life: a bet on the horses and the odd bit of chocolate. I can still taste the Polos that he would give me whenever I came to see him and as I stand here be fore you today, I know that every-time I open a pack of Polos, my grandfather will always be in the back of my mind.As a younger child, he would often take me to work with him, down to the school or Letham's farm where he would teach me about birds' eggs, crops and the types of plants and flowers. Pleasure was found in the simple things that I (and the rest of my brothers and sisters) did with him and his country life. I would often go into the back door at Mitchell Avenue where my granddad worked to a familiar scene and the smell of ‘Old Holborn' lingering in the air. The smell of warm pastry hung in the air as my nana would always be baking and listening to Radio Two and preparing granddad's lunch for when he came in from work.We thought they were infallible and would always be there; now their bungalow stands empty as a shell. The last time I saw my grandfather, he was sitting up in his hospital chair wearing his floral shirt, looking as eccentric as Spike Milligan and with a familiar twinkle in his eye. That's how I'll remember him. The funeral was held Becoming A Dancer? By  Jennifer M. , East Providence, RI Email me when Un. contributes work Standing in front of the mirror one day, I came to the harsh realization that I fell short of the requirements of my dream. The reflection that stared back was of a skinny brown-haired girl who stood a mere five feet tall.My entire life had been about dedication and striving to be the best dancer in my studio. I'd always had elaborate dreams and high aspirations. I never noticed how hard it might be to achieve something that you really want. Most people spend their whole lives searching for their calling or their nitch, but I've known that I was born to be a dancer since the first time I stepped into Thoroughly Modern Dance Studio at one and a half years of age. I've devoted sixteen years of my life to helping my dream come true, and also taken time out of my personal life to be a dance teacher at my studio.L ast summer I attended what is called an audition class in Boston taught by a highly respected Broadway dancer. At this seminar he explained the procedures for getting into a dance company or production. While I was listening and taking notes, I was thinking that I certainly had the experience, but there was one area in which I didn't quite measure up. He informed us that at most auditions all dancers under 5 feet 6 inches are automatically eliminated or simply overlooked. He said that most casting directors are looking for the stereotyped dancer with long legs, a long neck and a size one waist.Standing half a foot under this height, I felt my heart drop to the floor. It really is hard to listen to someone basically tell you: â€Å"Sorry, but you've been working really hard for sixteen years for nothing, so find a new dream. † Unfortunately, it just doesn't work that way. Dancing isn't just some hobby for me; it's more like an addiction. My complete heart and soul are exhibite d in every step. Through dance I find a sense of pride and satisfaction that I don't think anyone could understand or appreciate. To have all that I've ever wanted instantly shot down created a sick feeling in my stomach.Furthermore, I knew that at that moment I could do one of two things. I could settle for a second choice, or I could commit myself to the tedious uphill battle to come. Well, I've never been known as a person who gives up easily, so I've been working even harder to make up for in skill what I lack in inches! Nevertheless, it really doesn't matter how high the odds are against me, for I will rise above them. It's time for me to â€Å"put my nose to the grindstone† because, despite what anyone sees, the only direction my life is going is up.Whether I end up becoming a professional Broadway dancer or open a local dance studio is irrelevant, because I will do one or the other by choice, not because I wasn't qualified. I'm comforted in knowing I'm not alone in thi s battle. My mentor, Lorie Bernier, who stands at 5 feet 1 inch and has taught me everything I know, always inspiring me by saying: â€Å"You have to believe you can reach the stars before you can actually touch one of them. † – Failing Successfully By  Candace M. ,  Berea,  KY More by this author Email me when Candace M. contributes work Image Credit: Hailey J. , Lake Oswego, ORMy day in the sun had arrived – my magnum opus would be revealed. I had just delivered a memorized speech that I had labored over for weeks, and I was about to learn how the panel judged my performance. The polite but sparse audience leaned forward in their folding chairs. A hush fell across the room. The drum rolled (in my mind, anyway). The contest organizer announced the third-place winner. Alas, the name was not mine. Then he read the second-place winner, and once again it was not me. At last, the moment of truth came. Either I was about to bask in the warmth of victory or rue the last several months spent preparing.While neither of these came to pass, my heart felt closer to the latter. Losing is a part of life, and I have dealt with the emotional baggage that travels shotgun with it on more than one occasion. However, it was an indescribably underwhelming feeling to drive 200 miles round trip, get up obscenely early on a freezing Saturday morning, and yet still finish fourth out of four contestants. After Lincoln lost the 1858 Illinois Senate race, he reportedly said, â€Å"I felt like the 12-year-old boy who stubbed his toe. I was too big to cry and it hurt too bad to laugh. Oh yeah, I could relate. I had spent many hours in front of a computer and in libraries doing research for the Lincoln Bicentennial Speech Contest. As I pored over several biographies, one notion stood out: Lincoln was handed many sound defeats, but he never allowed them to (permanently) hinder his spirit or ambition. While I believe many history lessons can be applied to modern l ife, I hadn’t considered â€Å"the agony of defeat† as a historically valuable learning experience. I never dreamed I could relate to Lincoln! A president no less, and the greatest at that.I thought â€Å"failing successfully† was a very appropriate topic, given the many letdowns Lincoln experienced, and so this became the title of my speech. After not placing in the first year of the speech contest, I really wanted to compete again. Lincoln had been the epitome of persistence, so I was not going to give up on a contest about a historic individual who did not give up! I reworked my speech for the following year, and while I did not come in last, again I did not place. Some days you’re the dog, and some days you’re the hydrant, and this was definitely a hydrant day that brought me down for a while.I couldn’t accept the fact that I had failed twice in something that I had worked so hard on, until I contemplated the individual whom I’d s pent so much time learning about. Never mind the lost prize money (ouch, major) and praise (ouch, minor) – I had learned, really learned, about a great man who had experienced failure and disappointment, and had many chances to give up. We remember Lincoln because he didn’t take this route; he didn’t throw lavish pity-parties, and he persevered to become, according to many, the greatest American president.While I did not earn monetary awards as a result of this contest, I did gain a new perspective. Through learning about Lincoln, I discovered that I can fail successfully, and that it is possible to glean applicable wisdom from the lives of those who have come before us. Now, whenever I’m faced with a setback, I remember what Lincoln said after his unsuccessful 1854 Senate race: â€Å"The path was worn and slippery. My foot slipped from under me, knocking the other out of the way, but I recovered and said to myself, ‘It’s a slip and not a fa ll. ’† Not Just Any Thunderstorm Unknown Email me when Un. ontributes work Image Credit: Heather H. , LaHarpe, IL Discuss the greatestchallenge that you have faced or expect to face †¦ As the sun melted intothe distant horizon, I saw the thickening of the ominous clouds overhead. Therain began to pelt the roof of my old house, but nestled in my canopy bed underall my covers, I felt safe. Flashes of lightning and rumbles of thunder shook thehouse and tears began to roll down my cheeks. This was not just any thunderstorm,it was a moment in my life when I struggled to keep my faith and hope. Ispotted my mother's face, eyes ringed with smudged mascara.I peered up at herand knew something was very wrong. â€Å"It's Dad and me,† she began. â€Å"We have decided to separate for a while until we can work thingsout. † â€Å"But you're not getting a divorce, are you? † Iquickly asked. She shook her head, but I knew things would never be thesame. Soon aft er, my dad and I packed our bags and moved in with mygrandparents. He tried so hard to be strong, but I could see that he was feelinga lot of pain. He read me books to try to help me fall asleep at night. Iremember one was about a single dad and how things around the house weredifferent without a mom.He even tried, unsuccessfully, to put my hair up in anon-bumpy ponytail. My dad helped me to develop my faith, and without it, I donot think I could have made it through this difficult time in my life. He taughtme the Lord's Prayer and we recited it together every night. But as much as hetried, he was not my mother. My life before the separation was socarefree, and I was content. The memories of the three of us vacationing inFlorida – smiling, laughing, and spending time as a family – are painful, andwill last a lifetime. How could my life change so fast?I felt like I was on aroller coaster, and as much as my parents tried to comfort me, I felt alone. Theonly hope I had wa s my faith in God. I do not remember how long it wasuntil my parents announced they were getting a divorce. This did not come as acomplete shock because I suspected when they separated it would be forever. Ittook many months of arguing in court for my parents to settle that they wouldshare parenting. I believe God blessed me because I have had an opportunity toknow both parents. I often wonder how my life would have been if myparents had worked things out, but I know I would not be the same strong person Iam today.Struggling through this rough time, I learned to put my faith in Godand never to lose hope. I thank my parents for allowing me to learn from theirmistakes, and hope that I will not make the same ones. Ultimately, I had to makea choice: to move on with my life, or dwell on my past. I thank God for all thewonderful gifts he has bestowed upon me. My parents have both remarriedand are happy. I have two new parents, whom I hold as dear as my own. I am trulyglad to see both my p arents happy. Although I still wonder what my life mighthave been like, I never wish to change where I amtoday. *  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  *  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  *Asthe sun rose, sunlight peered into my bedroom and I could hear birds singing. Isat up in bed, relieved that the thunderstorm was finally over. I felt changed. Slowly, I opened my window, noticing the beautiful tulips blooming and the softspring breeze blowing against the trees. Suddenly I thought, I survived thestorm! I am ready to face the next one! After all, today is another day. One Typical Day Unknown Email me when Un. contributes work Image Credit: Amanda S. , Phoenix, AZ Dragging my tired self to my locker one Tuesdayafternoon, I picked up my books and shoved them into my bag.I pulled out mysports bag, dreading cross-country practice and thinking of all I had to do thatnight: write an English paper, do a practice math SAT and study for chemistry. That's when a cheery voice broke in, â€Å"Hey, Katie, don't forget about ourSPAC performance tonight at the hospital. See you at seven! † Thevoice belonged to Adam, the president of Students in the Performing Arts for theCommunity. He and a few of our school's symphonic band members (including me)started the club because we wanted to put some of our time and talents back intothe community by performing at hospitals and nursing homes.At that moment,however, I saw the performance as just one more thing to add to my list. Iarrived at the hospital with my flute in one hand and my chemistry book in theother, hoping to sneak in a little studying. I walked through the sliding doorsinto a cream-colored hall and saw an audience of older people in wheelchairs. Some were sleeping, others sat with blank stares, but a few looked joyful. Thosewere the faces, rosy with excitement, that made me smile. In their midst Ispotted a thin, pale girl who was no more than 13. Thick black braces engulfedher tiny legs, and I wondered wh y someone so young was stuck in thisplace.Toward the end of the hour, after Bach and show tunes, my friendSarah asked if anyone had any requests. The girl raised her arm and asked if shecould sing â€Å"My Heart Will Go On. † Sarah happily invited her to sharethe microphone and the girl hobbled past the sea of wheelchairs. When she andSarah began to sing, I noticed the girl's cheeks became pinker and her eyesshined. At that moment, I forgot my homework and remembered the true meaning ofSPAC: improving the quality of life for others. After the performance weall talked with the girl and discovered she wants to be a singer.She told usthat singing with Sarah had helped her remember her goal. As she spoke, shelooked down, self-consciously, at her thin legs. Then, she asked if we could allget together for a picture so she could remember this night and never give up onher dream. I stayed longer than I'd planned. I was amazed by what one hourof my time could do – help someone go from feeling like a prisoner in a hospitalto feeling like Celine Dion performing at a concert. That night, I lingered atthe dinner table with my family. I also called a friend I had not talked to in awhile.I did not do too well on the chemistry test the next day, but it was justone test, and I knew I could take it again. There could be no retake for myexperience that night at the hospital, except the one I'll always replay in myheart. Success Unknown Email me when Un. contributes work Image Credit: Michael G. , Glocester, RI â€Å"Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you none otherthan the one and only Nick A.! † screamed the announcer into themicrophone, in a vain attempt to be heard over the eruption of cheers from theoverflowing auditorium. As I stood, brimming with pride, the noise grew to adeafening level.I walked slowly toward the podium, my grin growing with eachstep. The announcer shook my hand, the principal slapped me on the back, and as Istepped up to the podium, I look ed up at a gigantic banner blazing forth mysuccess. It read: â€Å"Nice Guy Builds Ramp! † Well, it probablywould never happen that way. â€Å"Nice Guy Builds Ramp! † is not exactly acommon honor at an awards ceremony. The fact is I am, for the most part, a niceguy, and I did, in fact, build a ramp. And here is another fact: the truereward did not come from any ceremony but rather because I built it for someone Idid not even know, and it made a world of difference to her.She was an olderwoman, perhaps in her 70s. I never found out what was wrong with her, but she hada gigantic oxygen tank in her simply furnished living room, and she waswheelchair-bound. The whole business began when I participated in a summerprogram where teens from all over come together to do projects for people who aretoo old or poor to get them done. With other kids, I was assigned to build a rampfor this lady who had not been out of her house in seven years. At first Icould not believe I had been talked into going to a work camp, but I soon found Ihad never felt so good or had so much fun.My crew and I really bonded, with thiscommon goal of helping a woman who was only seeing the world from her window. Instantly, our group seemed to know each other. Lindsey was tall andathletic with really stretchy skin she could use to launch pencils from her knee,a talent she often demonstrated at lunch. Matt was a year younger and muchshorter, his crew cut not helping him much in the height department. We came tocall him the Handy Man because he was never without super-cargo pants that heldmore tools than seemed humanly possible. Michelle had great,super-precisely braided hair that looked as if it had taken hours to do.I wasreally impressed until one of the braids fell out. â€Å"Oh, shoot,† shesaid, and tied it back in. My whole world came crashing down when I realized thebraids were synthetic and that lots of girls wear them. As our workprogressed, we were so involved that we bec ame impervious to the attacks ofpassersby who stopped to ask what we were doing and could not believe we wereworking for free. The big payoff came when â€Å"our† lady rolleddown the ramp for the first time. I will never forget her tears. For the firsttime in seven years she collected her mail herself. We all gave her a gigantichug.Still in a state of amazement, she invited us to visit anytime, claiming shehad plenty of soda. And as she thanked us over and over again, I'll admit it – Iteared up. Building a ramp is not the only thing I was ever praised for. Iwon a bronze medal in the Rockland Final Fencing Tournament junior year, so Iknow what it is like to have people clapping when my name is called. But I alsoknow that building a ramp was a much greater success than any medal I could everwin. All the Things I'm Not Unknown Email me when Un. contributes work Image Credit: Samantha P. , Rochdale, MATo look at me, I'm just a â€Å"pretty boy,† puton Earth for the amusement of bullies who are jealous of my appearance, andcoveted as a boyfriend. Now, if that's true, I must also be conceited(that goes without saying) and pig-headed, too! I must think I'm God's gift towomen. I'm really just a pretty face, I don't have much else going for me. Godswitched brains for dimples, I guess. I bounce from woman to woman; I'm ashameless heartbreaker. Yet, I have been in a monogamous relationship for about ayear now. My GPA's a solid B+, higher when I apply myself. I'm creative – Iwrite, I read, I play Dungeons & Dragons.Maybe I'm a nerd. I read atleast 75 comics a month, usually more. I have a favorite writer, I've read morethan the required reading for English, and more than five books without pictures. I play role-playing games. I know what HP and THAC0 stand for, and while I'venever personally lost touch with reality, I've played with people who have. I'myour resident fanboy, and own six different Spider-Man T-shirts. I know whokilled Jason Todd (I own the actual issues and the trade paperback), and I'malways ready to argue over which was the best comic series ever,†Watchmen† or â€Å"The Dark Knight Returns. I play with actionfigures. In fact, I've built an entire city in my room, and when no one's around,I pretend the figures talk (I do a great Christopher Reeve impression). I dohomework. My I. Q. is more than the change in my pocket. I didn't need acalculator for the SATs and I never took a prep course. That said, I'mprobably antisocial. I shy away from sports and physical confrontation. I'veprobably never had a date, and I probably spend all day online (maybe nights,too). I'm probably on the newspaper staff, maybe even class president. Well, Ihave a girlfriend, I'm really vocal and I only go online for research.Plus, Ican bench 200 pounds and squat twice that much and I do play sports. Maybe I'm ajock. I play a sport for every season, three for the sole purpose ofbecoming better at the main one. Yes, the wo rld is shaped like a football, andorbit is made possible by the powerful arm of Testaverdi. AC/DC's the best bandto get you pumped, and six straight losses is the best way to bring you down. Oneof my favorite movies is â€Å"Braveheart,† and although†Gladiator† was good, it doesn't even come close. I want to be likeRudy, and I never want anything that happened in â€Å"The Program† tohappen to me.I've seen things men could never show their girlfriends; I can findthe locker room by smell alone and I know for a fact that mold can grow oncotton. I've heard â€Å"Welcome to the Jungle† 986 times this year (andit's only April). I must run out of socks and underwear before I wash them, andeven then I go commando for a week. Knowing this, you might think I pickon smaller kids or hang out in large groups. You might think I have a very bigbody with a little head. You'd assume that I use the words â€Å"dude† and†cool† constantly out of cont ext (which I do). But that can't be right. I mean, I can spell football and I only fight if necessary.Heck, sometimes Ieven use metaphors. Maybe I'm one of those artistic guys. I have writtenat least one piece of any type of writing you can think of, and I enjoyed it all(except straight news articles, I really hate writing those). I'm going on myeleventh art credit. I took a fashion class and am not ashamed to admit it. Ihave a sensitive side – I cry during â€Å"Bambi. † I can appreciate theamount of time it takes to hand draw a couple hundred flowers. I know the fourkinds of self-portraits: one without looking in a mirror, one looking in amirror, one drawing from a picture and one of your hand. I know green'scomplement, and exactly what ROY G.BIV stands for. I understand Shakespeare, butnot a word of The Scarlet Letter. When essay assignments are announced, I'm theonly one who smiles, and whether you like it or not, I think this essay ishilarious. So, you would figur e I'd be pretty quiet. You know, I can't speakwell, so my writing will be my voice and such. Nope, I'm very loud. I talk andargue and sing. Maybe I'm one of those choir boys. I was the only freshmanin my school ever to get a solo, I was in the elite Florida Singing Sons, I'veperformed at nine Sea Worlds, I know all eight versions of the â€Å"HallelujahChorus† and I have two medals for excellence from NYSSMA.But that's notall; I'm also the lead singer of my very own punk rock band. It's been one yearand we've had 447 different names. I know why Kurt Cobain shot himself, and Ihope I die before I grow old. I own at least ten Misfits T-shirts, and pants thatsay â€Å"Hey, Ho! Let's Go! † on the crotch. I own leather pants and astudded bracelet. I'm currently waiting for McFarlane to wise up and make aDexter Holland figure, and I don't care what your definition of punk is, GreenDay is good enough for me.By now I'm sure you're not assuming anything, and I'msure you suspect that I also do many things to contradict this cliche, like I ownan Eminem record and Rod Stewart's greatest hits. And while I do have a few bodypiercings, none of them is life-threatening. Well, pigs can fly. Hell hasfrozen over. The world is coming to an end. Because the good-looking, faithful,singing, drawing and writing, jock fanboy is roaming the earth. They said itcould never happen, but I guess â€Å"they† were wrong. I make no excusesfor myself and pay no mind to your complaints or opinions. I'm everything thatI'm not, and I love it.A Memory Unknown Email me when Un. contributes work Image Credit: Elizabeth B. , Norwich, CT Builtof gray stone and situated on a small plateau in the middle of rolling hills ismy grandmother's three-story farmhouse. Sunken into the land, it fits like aperfect piece in the puzzle of the checkered landscape. This housefostered comfort and happiness. I trusted that it would always be there, and feltsafe in knowing I could always go back and r evel in its character and uniqueness. It was my mother's home. It was my grandmother's house. We drove up thegravel driveway and parked under the overhang.For weeks, my mom had been tryingto get me to go. The settlement was at the end of the week, and I finally gavein. Only five stepping stones away from the road was the door. Massivepine trees, only half as tall when I was born and even smaller when my mother wasyoung, shaded the front of the house and blocked the wrap-around porch on thesecond level. My mom unlocked the door with the key she'd had for years. Adraft of the scent inside hit me like a slap in the face. I let it resonate in mybrain as the smell triggered memories. Boxes belonging to strangershad invaded the living room.In the kitchen the refrigerator had been ripped out,the furniture removed. All I could see were the images of Christmas Day duringthe past 17 years. I stepped onto the porch. From the left, the streetslithered through the hills to the front door and con tinued on to the right. Withone breath I inhaled the sweet pine scent from the trees and looked at thesetting sun. Up the road was my cousin's house. Between the two homes wehad dwelled in days of simple play. In the halcyon times of summer, our bathingsuits became second skins, our bikes second sets of legs. We spent comfortablehours in the pastoral landscape, knowing the day was ours.I took one last lookat the view. I didn't want to leave. I didn't want it to be just amemory. My grandfather walked into the house carrying a camera. Muscles oflabor, skin of leather; years of hard work were in this once six-foot-tall oldman. His height had shrunk while his belly had swelled. My mom anxiouslysnapped a picture of her old bedroom. The house was retained in its splendor forthat frozen moment. My grandfather put his strong hand, a hand worthy of farming,on my shoulder. Flash. For one last time I was part of these walls. I putthe place to rest in my mind, trying to swallow the lump in my t hroat.As I saidgood-bye to an era of my life – the chapter of my childhood – my eyes welled withtears. Closing the white metal door for the last time, I carried with me a senseof security as strong as those old stone walls. Success at Last Unknown Email me when Un. contributes work Image Credit: Jason B. , Philadelphia, PA It always looked so easy when my dad did it. He cutsmoothly, his shoulder leaning so close to the water that his body lookedparallel to the cool glass. I had been itching to be free of my yellow trainingskis and ski on my own. I wanted to learn to fly over the water just like my dad,but water skiing isn't as easy as it looks.I had been trying for almost a month. First I tried two skis, but my seven-year-old stick legs weren't strong enough tocontrol them, so Dad suggested simplifying things by using one ski. Simplify? Slalom ski? My first attempts at slalom skiing were disasters, but Irefused to give up. When we took a family trip to a lake, I couldn 't wait to tryagain. After eating a big lunch on the deck overlooking the water, we went outfor a ski. I was the last to go. I reluctantly slipped into the foreboding water;this lake was a lot bigger and rougher than the one back home. The frothy waterswirled around me and I was terrified.How can I get up in this mess of whitecapswhen I can't even get up in my calm little lake? I wondered. I crouched in thewater, pulled my legs to my chest and waited. After four attempts Iaccepted defeat – but only for that outing. I was determined not to giveup. The next morning my dad's friend suggested another way of getting meup, and I said, â€Å"Sure! † I would try anything to get the chance to ski. He had me sit on the lower portion of the dock, skis in the water and rope inhand as he pulled the boat away. As I sat, I thought about falling like an anchorinto the dark water and getting splinters in my butt. Ready? † he asked. â€Å"Yeah! † I replied, shakily. Iheard the boat roar and my teeth clenched. I felt the rope gently tug my arms andsuddenly the cool air was tingling my legs and the water was splitting to let methrough. I was doing it! Success at last! I couldn't wait to get home and showoff my new skill to my friends. It took seemingly endless gallons of waterup my nose and aching, heavy arms, but now I can fly across the water almost aswell as my dad. I gained this confidence through persistence and courage -qualities I plan to apply to my life once I reach the big lake of college andeven the ocean of real life.

In the 21st Century, How Important Is to Be Able to Read, Write and Speak English in Thailand?

At the present time, English is used widely around the world and also the most spoken official language. Being able to read, write and speak English becomes important for Thai people because of various reasons. English is used in education and in doing business. Firstly, it is important for Thai children because English is used in education. There are many sources of knowledge written in English such as textbooks or information on the internet. If Thai children can read and write English fluently, they will understand the content which is written in English. They can also express their point of view by writing down.Therefore, children will be able to access to more sources of knowledge. Nowadays, some Thai students go to study overseas. Living in a foreign country, English is very necessary since it is a language which used worldwide. Students must be able to speak English because they have to communicate with foreigners such as their classmates or their teachers. They are also requi red to read and write English in order to understand the information in textbooks and be able to finish their homework. Moreover, business opportunities for Thai people can be expanded by being able to read, write and speak English.Currently, many foreign companies are established in Thailand. They want the employees who can use English fluently. In foreign companies, they use English as an Interlingua. Companies’ employees have to interact with people in English. They have to read papers and write down everything in English as well. Thus, it is advantageous to Thai people who are able to read write and speak English. For Thai employers, if they are able to speak English, they will have an easier communication with their business counterparts without hiring employ translators.This will cut down the companies’ expenses. Employers can directly negotiate with their counterparts. They can clearly understand each other business deal. In conclusion, it can be seen that Engli sh is very essential in Thailand. English is used for educational purposes and expanding business opportunities. Therefore, Thai people should realize that the importance of being able to read, write and speak English in Thailand is very necessary. We should try harder and harder in practices these skills.