The power point was concise and provided specific steps, examples and opportunity for practice. The power point was eye-pleasing and the content was presented in a manner that all students could comprehend. The Faculty used clear speech, proper grammar, academic language and vocabulary. The presentation was broken down into smaller chunks to ensure success among all students. The Faculty effectively incorporated different types of technology in the presentation.The power point was eye-pleasing and easy to read. Visuals were provided both in the power point. There were video clips incorporated into the power point presentation. The visuals and video clip engaged the students and captured their attention.

School shootings in the U.S. are becoming increasingly normalized. Kids sitting in classrooms, scrolling through their social media, will barely blink while reading the tragic news. However, the school shooting at Stoneman Douglas that left 17 dead wreaked havoc everywhere. At 10:00 AM on February 14, my phone buzzed. Lifting it up to check, I gasped as I saw the headline: Florida School Shooting: 17 dead. While opening the story, I felt a growing pit in my stomach, my brain stuttering to process what I was reading. Soon, almost everybody was talking about it, students as well as teachers. It was a terrible tragedy that could have been prevented. It was also a much-needed wake-up call to everyone.

In response to this shooting, students believed they had the power to change gun control laws. Schools scheduled walkouts on the anniversary of the Columbine High School shooting on April 20. Student organizers shared an announcement stating, “Together, we will send a message that we won’t tolerate any more inaction on this issue. And if cowardly politicians fail to act, young people will show them the consequences of letting so many Americans die by voting them out in November.” By using the power of their voices, students are influencing others to not only vote but to pay attention to the news to keep politicians in check. Students believe that “There is power in our community. It is up to us to make the change.” There have been countless times in which people have tried to get their message to the world, but their limited audience made it close to impossible to effect change. However, because these kids were themselves the victims of this shooting, students have been given an elevated platform where they can spread their message. This elevated platform gives students the belief and hope that change is possible.

Direct actions, like the March for Our Lives Rally in which I participated on March 24th in Downtown San Jose, are bringing awareness and encouraging people to create solutions. The student-led march resulted in thousands of people in the streets, holding signs, standing together and saying enough is enough. Witnessing so many people come together, all fighting for the same cause, was overwhelming and powerful. The growing pit in my stomach from the first time I had heard about the shooting, slowly ebbed as the feeling of togetherness washed over me. The students leading the march inspired everybody with their passion. Their bold behavior sent the message that we, the youth, will be heard, starting the brainstorming for solutions by all groups of people. Every day in the US, children going to school face the danger of a shooting, because on average, about two dozen children are shot every day. In 2016, a total of 1637 youths were killed by gunfire. The mortal danger that students face on an everyday basis affects so many thousands of people, but it is not discussed with the urgency that is necessary to bring about change. However, this march helped bring to light these important conversations, and it raised the awareness of this issue to a national level, where it can motivate all people to join this fight.

Kids are the future of this country and, being our future, their health and wellbeing should be a priority. This topic should be at the forefront of many national discussions and should not only arise when there’s a school shooting. During the March of Our Lives, the fear and outrage that resulted from the numerous school shootings found an elevated platform through which it was broadcasted, sparking a national movement to improve gun laws by identifying politicians working with the NRA. Being a part of this movement helped me see that the students of today have voices that need to be heard which inspired me to use this chance to improve the world for the people after me.

too many people dwell on the past. If they let the past overtake them, then they see no point in the future. These people still live, torturing themselves with the past. What they don’t understand is the past makes you who you are today, and you can’t escape yourself. Every man is capable of good and evil. The path is his and his perception of the path is of the utmost importance. Even Hitler thought that he was doing the right thing.

Memories, however, provide a link to the past. Most people think of bad things, when the key of happiness is knowing that it can only get better. In life you can love many people, not just one. For every one person, there are hundreds of people with the potential of love. But there is alwys the one – the one that got away, the one you wished you had…,the one,the only, the one from yesterday. this is the kind of person that, no matter what, you still love her. You can never forget her touch, her kiss, her love.

LIfe is full of mystery, you never know what lies ahead. Man strives fro the future, but mankind dwells on the past. We make choices, simple yet complex. They shape our days, our monthes, our lives. The simplest things may multiply into infinite scenarios. Either follow a trail or follow a star. Let’s try to follow our hearts.

Forgiveness is the best medicine, but Love is the cure.

I just turned fourteen, which is very exciting for several reasons. Firstly, I am able to legally be on someone’s payroll, so they can stop paying me with discreet cash handed to me under a folding-table. Secondly, I am six years away from voting in my first election. I have an elaborate plan, which goes as follows:

The Monday evening beforehand, I will binge-watch every debate. I will then take my specially-ordered white t-shirt, tie-dye it blue, and add on all the stickers of my preferred candidate along with perhaps some artful decorations. I will wake up at 5:30 the next morning and prepare myself pancakes. If I have time, I’ll make one in the shape of the candidate I oppose’s first initial and burn it. If not, I’ll read the paper. At 8:46 I will get in line to vote, after standing with a sign out there for an hour. I will punch my name in the ballot machine and then I’ll go off to school, but not before kissing a staffer. It’s a liberal thing.

The midterms this year were a sad time. They were made up of inevitability and glimmers of surprise, just enough to make you think something was going to happen, but then it didn’t. I watched the DC mayoral election twenty times more closely than anyone I know, and I in fact told at least five adults who to vote for-all of whom, I presume, heeded my advice. Then I wore my Obama t-shirt and watched Anderson Cooper press fancy pants screens and say “Wolf, back to you” so many times it started to crack me up and then the next day whenever I spoke on the phone I would end my comments with “Wolf, back to you.”

Because, no matter how it is construed otherwise, I am a stakeholder in this election and all the ones coming after and before it. I was born smack in the middle of the Bush/Gore debacle. The results of that election have most literally dictated the world as I know it. I have grown up used to seeing countries with a lot of sand on the cover of the newspaper and assuming we’ve screwed something up again. In 2018, when I’ll miss the voting deadline by mere weeks, I’ll be in my first year of college, getting ready to enter the workforce some candidate will create for me. I will pay the taxes which candidates I couldn’t vote for decided on for me and get ready to vote having gone through 19 years of selling cookies at the bake-sale at my elementary school on election day and watching worn-out adults emerge from the polls and tell their friends they voted for the one with the same first name as their brother-in-law (actually happened, in 2012-which makes me wonder if the brother-in-law was named Barack?). The passive participant, but the active victim.

Related to that last sentence, I propose two solutions (as a fourteen year old, I am what is known as a reputable source.) Number one: Let high schoolers vote when they turn 15. Give them their formative years to get involved, before we burn out. Feed the flame with fuel, not water. Don’t tell us we have to wait until we can’t care as much to do something, let us participate in whatever democracy you propose we’re getting. It’s the least you can do having driven all those damn SUVs into the atmosphere. (Also worth mentioning: the voting rights issue is a nonstarter, GOP folks. We’re a democracy, anyone who’s not a slave votes, done deal.) Number two is my crowning achievement. I devised it during health class and snuck my phone out to text my dad. He said it was a good idea but I didn’t tell him I was texting in health class. If we won’t involve young people, we’ll just involve the ones I call “doners.” Their world has already been settled, and their ambitions focus on the generation to come, not their own. Other, less innovative people call them adults. We shall adopt a system of anonymous voting for midterms. Nobody knows the candidates or who they are-just their assigned letter. Each candidate expresses views on no more than 21 major local/national/international issues in two sentences in a local news outlet. If you read it and care, vote. If you would rather live in Russia, do not vote. If you’re an illegal immigrant, assume the identity of the aforementioned Communists and get your lazy asses (joke) to the voting polls.

My generation has already been handed a messed-up planet. And, like all other generations, we will also be handed a messed-up political system. The only people who have true passion and the power to make a long-term change are the ones inheriting the world. That’s me. I’m inheriting the world, and as I do so I’m watching those who have already had their go at it squander away their votes in decisions which more often than not are based less on politics than on who’s going to mess up less. And that’s where the real decision comes through-young people don’t have that mindset. We don’t think in terms of who’s going to mess up less, and whose party has messed up less. We think in terms of who’s going to shape a planet we want to live in. Because we’re entering, not exiting. We haven’t lost the idealism yet. So hand over the baton, doners. Thank you very much, but it’s our turn now, and we like it.

What is the perfect human?This is a question that literary works have attempted to answer for the longest of times.Although these literary works have their own unique take on the question, they all have a certain aspect in common.For some reason, these futuristic societies that are made up perfect humans are cold.I do not see the people in these societies smiling, laughing, or taking on adventures as we do.These people fail to love or be loved as we do.It is for this reason that I believe that these ‘perfect’ societies filled with ‘perfect’ people are not perfect at all.Or perhaps these societies and people are indeed perfect, but in that case, I do not desire to ever be part of that society.

You can go and read or watch books and movies about the ‘perfect’ human, and regardless of how they got to their perfection; these people lost one part of humanity during the process.Despite their ability to have feelings, these people lack in emotion.Characters may like each other or dislike each other, but no one ever displays the emotions of love and hate.Perhaps this is because emotions are flawed.To love is not exactly logical, neither is to hate, or to break and scream in frustration at the world.It appears that the perfect emotional response has to be logical, unlike our current emotional responses.This brings us to a fundamental question of does becoming a perfect human require the removal of all flaws and faults, and if so, does that mean the removal of our faulted and flawed emotion?

Another thing that all these futuristic societies have in common is that you do not see people on the streets.Poverty, starvation, etc. evidently have been eradicated in the process of creating the perfect society.So, in that sense, through their effort to achieve perfect human, humans have perfected their humanity by finally creating equality and justice for the world and all those who live in it.But the lack of emotion that is also displayed by these societies shows a lack of humanity at the same time.Humanity, by many definitions, is showing or having compassion.But compassion is rooted in love and empathy.With the lack of our illogical emotions, love and empathy can no longer exist, resulting in the nonexistence of compassion, evidently leading to the extinction of our very humanity.

However, humanity might not even matter in a perfect society.If everything is without flaw or fault, then why is there even a need to feel emotion to drive you to fix things?Therefore, there isn’t a need for humanity anymore.But with this lack of humanity and emotion, humans stop living; they will simply exist.Without the emotion to drive people, there is no reason for them to want to grow.Without this desire to better the world and better themselves, the only thing to do is to exist.And if all that these perfect humans do is exist, they will become no better than puppets on strings.

But then, one must consider what he or she believes is the perfect human.For I believe that a perfect society would consist of emotion.I believe that there has to be a curiosity to drive us to research and discover stupid little things that lead to a bigger picture.There has to be fear of failure, resulting from imperfection, to drive us to better our technology, our world.There has to be inequality between the skill sets of humans so that might appreciate the talents of others.Not everyone will be able to dance, and not everyone will be able to do high-level calculus.

Consider this; pick a person you know, any person, and think of what you love about them the most.Maybe it’s their dimples, or the stupid bedroom rules they have, or the fact that they can sing like the heavens.Now pick another person you know, and think about what makes them special to you.Keep going and going, pick different people each time until you have a good list of qualities in people that you love.Now think about this, how many of those qualities would still be there if everyone was the perfect human?Ask yourself if you would still appreciate all of those qualities if everyone were the perfect human.I don’t know what your answers to those questions were, but I can tell you that I wouldn’t appreciate the people I selected a quarter as much as I do now.

So, all in all, I have come up with two scenarios for the perfect human.Option one is what you see in literature, emotionless but physically and mentally flawless.Option two is our imperfectly perfect society and us.Despite our fatal flaws that we are improving and are working on, we have all the imperfections that make us perfect.Give the world a few hundred years, and we will have equality, justice, and peace.But we will also have emotion and drive to continue living.And, to me at least, our perfection in living our imperfect lives is far more perfect than any emotionless fictional characters existing in their perfect lives.

I’m so sick and tired of it all. I just want it to stop. I want people to stop observing the blotchy red mountains etched upon my face. I want to stop pointing out my flaws when looking at a mirror. I want to stop brushing my teeth and hair in the dark all because I can’t bear to see my pained expressions. I want to stop feeling ashamed of my physical appearance. I want to stop forcing myself to hide behind foundation and powder, and I want my mother and sister to stop demanding me to apply makeup. I want to stop envy and fury from taking over me. I want to stop feeling insecure when talking to my flawless friends and family. I want to stop fantasizing over an imaginary prince charming who’d compliment me and see past the impurities on my forehead, nose, and under my eyes. I want to stop crying over a dream left unfulfilled. I want to stop plastering a faux smile expressing artificial happiness. I want to stop turning the corner when a handsome boy passes by. I want to stop pulling over my hoodie when a group of teen models strut past me. I want to stop trying to avoid the cautious glances, wary stares, and the guarded eyes. I want to stop living in a world where beauty is a blessing for those bestowed with it, and an intolerable curse to those who lack it.

I just want to wake up feeling beautiful and free of any concerns. I want to feel confident enough to stand at the front of the class and to be introduced to new people. I want to be able to let go of my insecurities. I want to relish the youthful attention of awe and admiration rather than pity and disgust. I want to retire to bed without the burden of another day filled with unease. I want to enjoy looking at myself, noticing how my smile is my best feature. I want to finally believe in the flattery compliments I get rather than simply brushing them aside. I want to walk out the door with my head held high and my chin up. I want to be able to brush my hair with the lights on. I want to throw away all forms of makeup and simply feel content with smooth flawless skin. I just want to live my life in pure gorgeous bliss.

Is that just too much to ask for?

Many children can say I am my own person but if you think about it no one really is. Parents influence their children in numerous ways and are so confident when doing it that the child just picks up their parents beliefs. Kids are like spunges when they are at such young age and whatever omeone tells them or they here they automaticly start believeing it and start preeching it to other children. Parent can say that their child has their own mind and they do but they still follow parent. If a parent has very racial views on diffrent races then the hild is very likely to pick it up. Thats why we all have to think next time before we do something. Next time you are about to make racial sler because you heard a parent say it think “wait should i really be saying this” or”is this person really that diffrent?” If we all obied by this the world will be hopefully a better place for many of todays and tomorrow’s youth.

So every person on this Earth has a best friend. I know we all do. Sometimes we have to stop and realize though, our friends are not going to be there all the time like they say they are, I don’t care who you are, they are going to turn their back on you when you need them the most. Don’t believe me, I pitty your future. LIke the song says,
“You find out friends are some body is gonna drop everything, run out and crank up their car hit the gas never stop to think what’s in this for me, oh, it’s way to far, you just show on up with your big ‘ole heart you find out who your friends are.” You never have people in this world you can trust, not any more that is. Lesson of life, don’t leave a friend when they need you most. Please.

Each year, 100 million animals are killed due to animal testing worldwide. To put this into perspective, a total of 40 million people died in World War I and a total of 5 million Jews were killed during the Holocaust. Torture, deprivation, genetic mutation, decapitation, chemical exposure, and psychological trauma are just a few atrocities inflicted on animals in the name of science. Under the radar, labs around the world perform brutal scientific procedures on creatures without enough payoff or purpose, but it is the American society that is blinded by misleading suggestions and subjected to believe in an unjust and useless cause.Animal experimentation is immoral and inhumane and should not be enforced due to the lack of scientific credibility seen in studies and the outrageous torture and mistreatment of test animals. Americans falsely believe that animal testing is beneficial to human health and scientific development contrary to the numerous statistical studies disproving this fact. American consumers need to reject and strongly deny testing of animals because of the meaningless deaths and lack of scientific advancements it causes.

Many people strongly support animal testing due to the supposed human benefits. Shocking and horrific statistical evidence that is overlooked by American society reveals the numerous adverse effects of animal testing on not only animals, but humans. Extensive research and costly tests have proven that animal DNA and biology is not similar enough to human biology for animal testing to be significantly effective. According to the Humane Society International, “…nine out of every 10 candidate medicines that appear safe and effective in animal studies fail when given to humans.” Since the overwhelming majority of animal tests brutally fail, the overwhelming amount of lives, money, and energy put into these processes result in being wasteful and meaningless. According to Kathy Archibald, Hormone Replacement therapy was prescribed to millions of women due to the success of lowering heart disease and stroke rates in monkeys seen in labs, but the therapy “…caused 20,000 cases of breast cancer over the past decade in Britain, in addition to many thousands of heart attacks and strokes.” The flabbergasting false information derived from these tests clearly indicate all the reason to end lab tests on animals. Not only do they harm animals, but they also subject humans to further strife. For example, according to The Ecologist, “Cigarette smoke, asbestos, arsenic, benzene, alcohol and glass ?bres are all safe to ingest, according to animal studies.” Animal testing is antiquated and should stay in the past. Although it has been used for centuries, modern day technology surpasses the outdated methods used in animal testing that fail to provide important scientific progress to benefit humans. According to the British Medical Journal, “The claim that animal experimentation is essential to medical development is not supported by proper, scientific evidence but by opinion and anecdote.” Animal tests may serve as a crutch in regards to human safety of products, but the countless number of innocent American consumers suffering from the mindless use of animal testing reveals the urgent need to eradicate these outdated techniques.

Animal testing violates many American principles and standards and should not be condoned by our nation’s public. Well known companies in the cosmetic industry such as Avon and Revlon are popular and positively received by the majority of American shoppers, but behind closed doors, atrocities take place without public recognition. According to People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals, labs still barbarically test drugs on animals even though “…U.S. Food and Drug Administration (FDA) admits that 92 percent of all drugs that are shown to be safe and effective in animal tests fail or cause harm in human trials.” Despite the ineffectiveness and available alternatives to these procedures, some of the most successful businesses in America inflict pain on living creatures like having them “…force-fed massive quantities of Merck’s experimental drugs” or “…breathe either diesel engine exhaust or cigarette smoke for six hours a day, seven days a week, for two years…” Most Americans are oblivious to the cruelties happening behind closed doors, and what would normally be considered a federal crime for animal abuse simply becomes overlooked because these tests are seen as economically or financially beneficial. America is not a country of senseless and inhumane scientists, but a nation of conscious consumers who care about what they endorse. It is morally unacceptable for the American people to support local corporations that inflict pain on primates causing them to be “…driven mad by psychological trauma” and “…pull out their own hair, and chew on their own flesh.” America stands for freedom, opportunity, and equality. Support of laboratory testing does not honor these American qualities and contradicts some of the essential beliefs of this country.

American culture has unknowingly been centered upon animal testing in exchange for human enjoyment of different products like makeup and cosmetics. Although it is important to test animals when vital to human medical development, the likelihood of these tests being reliable and applicable to humans is very slim due to the statistics showing significant incongruities between the different DNA and biology between people and animals. The uselessness and ineffectiveness of animal testing makes one wonder why the continued slaughter of hundreds of millions of animals is not being stopped. If scientific breakthroughs were being discovered in exchange for a few tests on rats, then experimentation would be somewhat justifiable and moral, but the sheer absence of facts showing effectiveness of testing truly reveals the illogical nature of these procedures. It is important to spread awareness about the little known effectiveness of animal experimentation and the lack of human benefit from the inhumane processes. Americans should stand up against the animal welfare injustices of this country and hear the loud cries of those without a voice.

Mitt Romney is a very strong contender in the republican presidential race. Over the past week, Romney has been touring Iowa trying to pull more voters for the Iowa caucus on January 3, 2012. Romney has been very successful in his attempts for he has landed the position of leading candidate with 24 per cent of votes in the Iowa poll. Romney has a very good chance of winning in the Iowa caucus. Romney has also gained a great deal of supporters in New Hampshire these past couple of days and has received endorsements from fifteen more New Hampshire State Representatives. This will give Romney a total of seventy-three New Hampshire State Representatives, nine State Senators, four out of five Executive Councilors, and eight out of ten sheriffs. Have this large amount of New Hampshire supporters is essential because if Romney wins or places in the Iowa caucus and continues in the race, his next step will be to prepare for the New Hampshire primary on January 10, 2012. Romney has also gained the support of the North Carolina Senator Richard Burr, Virginian Lieutenant Governor Bill Bolling, delegates Chris Peace and Barbara Comstock, Michigan Congressman Mike Rogers, wealthy Iowa businessmen, and many others. Romney is continuing to promote his An American Century, Smaller Simpler Smarter, and Obamacare Repeal ideas. Romney informs Iowa and other states he has visited that he plans on making America stronger by lessening the government’s control over and presence in Americans’ lives, allowing Americans to create jobs thus strengthening the economy, improving trade in the United States, protecting businesses from being forced to use union labor, and reducing taxes, and government spending. Romney has received a great deal of support for his ideas, especially in Iowa, considering how he has a seventy-four per cent chance of winning the Iowa caucus.
I support Mitt Romney and believe that he is a very strong and capable presidential candidate. Romney is very experienced and well rounded with having a degree in business from Harvard’s School of Business and a degree in law from Harvard’s School of Law. Romney was CEO of Bain Capitol where he dealt with and controlled very difficult issues that would shape skills required to repair America’s economy. Similar to America’s economy, Bain & Company had severe issues with over spending, losing money, and focusing attention on insignificant issues, but Bain & Company also had an issue with lack of leadership. In a short time, Romney was not only able to trim the company’s budget, but he was able to make Bain & Company thrive. Romney helped created large corporate companies such as Domino’s Pizza and The Sports Authorities. Furthermore, Romney took leadership of the 1999 Winter Olympic Games when it was in the midst of great turmoil. With Romney in control of the Winter Olympic Games, it went from great turmoil to the most successful Olympic Games America ever held. In addition to Romney’s vast experience in business, he grew up in a very political household due to the fact that his father was governor of Michigan, so Romney was bred to be involved in politics. In 2002, Romney was elected governor of Massachusetts. Before Romney’s governorship, Massachusetts endured sever issues with budgets, spending, lack of leadership, and taxpayers were required to pay a remarkable amount in taxes. People lost jobs every day for a long period of time, but after Romney’s term ended in 2007; thousands of jobs were being created in Massachusetts. Creating jobs and improving the economy are America’s two main concerns, and the candidate most experienced, well prepared for, and capable of fulfilling these tasks is Mitt Romney.

beauty is in the eye of the beholder. But what about the mind? Now a days people are more into the physical features,almost like people aren’t looking for anything but an empty shell, a trophy just to look at. What good is a trophy if not to collect dust. Is there any other purpose to a trophy if not to look at it. It can’t make you laugh, or connect with you on a level so deep. And although they hold memories, those memories are limited, you can’t really make new memories with it or reminisce and laugh with it about all the stuff you did with it. You can’t tell it your hopes and dreams, your fears or weaknesses. It will never appreciate your faults and love you more for it. It’s plastic, shallow, and just a pretty face. Like beauty, if it has nothing to complement it, it will rust and become a memory you vaguely remember. Beauty will slip away from your fingers but a truly genuine person, a wonderful person is ageless with an immortal beauty of it’s own. Like a chocolate covered cherry, even though the chocolate melted you still have the cherry in the center.

There is a great line in Dr.Suess`s book The Lorax about arrogance and greed that is one of the best words ever written in a work of children’s literature, “Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better it’s not”. A character in the book called the Onceler, who now realizes that if we care too much for ourselves, nothing will get better or change speaks these words, for he too was once a greedy and very arrogant person himself who chopped down thousands of Truffula Trees to make useless objects called Thneeds. Reprimanding him for actions is the book’s title character, the Lorax. Dr.Suess, or Ted Giselle, wrote this book for his new wife Audrey, whom after he died, is still living to this day.

After the death of Ted Giselle, the story of the Lorax has now taken on a new guise. The greedy and arrogant Onceler is now a man named Ron Howard along with some other filmmakers and studios, the Thneeds are now films, musicals, a theme park, and various kinds of merchandise, and unfortunately, the works of Dr.Suess himself take the role of the Truffula Trees. A few years before the live-action version of How the Grinch Stole Christmas was even made, Ron Howard tried to buy off the rights to not one of his books, but all of them; and way before that, a musical was made turning all of his books into the mind screw known as Suessical! Which now leaves Audrey Giselle as the defenseless but determined Lorax, who has reprimanded many studios and filmmakers for decaying the integrity of his works. In fact, she told Universal, after the negative reviews on the live action version of The Cat in the Hat, not to do any live action films with his characters again!

For us true fans of Dr.Suess, this was a major break though for keeping the integrity of his books away from studios like Universal; that have the ownership abilities to exploit his works to the full capacity until they do not show any signs of the work they are based on. However, our tune changed when Blue Sky studios made Horton Hears a Who and where granted permission by Audrey Giselle to do the dirty work of exploiting it, without any of her guidance. It was like the Lorax giving up his duty to protect the Truffula Trees and leaving it all to the Grinch, who does not understand what is going on and will lie about anything terrible that happens. In the end, the film was a terrible example of the originals morality. Horton Hears a Who is supposed to be about injustice caused by arrogance and misunderstanding of the dire situation at hand; the story is an allegory for the inequality and mistreatment placed upon the people of Japan by the American Government. Horton in the book is supposed to represent peace and justice, what the Japanese Americans wanted for Japan; In the movie however, he is clumsy, awkward, and absent minded (and played by Jim Carry of all things). Not the Horton we know from reading the book; but the studio made it that way to attract a younger audience, and not audiences from all backgrounds. I hate to spoil the ending, but it all ends with the characters singing an Aerosmith song! Explain that Blue Sky!

Now here is the big question we have all been waiting for. What is our role as writers in the story of the Lorax? Well… remember the boy, who is given a Truffula seed, the very last one by the Onceler, our role is that boy! We as writers appreciate what Theodore Giselle has given us when he was born into this world; he gave us new perspectives, an opportunity to read, an incredible imagination, and even new words and character archetypes. We know deep in our hearts the messages he taught in his books. If there is a mess, we clean it up like the Cat in the Hat, if someone oppresses us, we must stand up like Mac in Yertle the Turtle, if we see someone in trouble or hurt by another person, we protect them as Horton did the Whos. As writers of fan fiction it is now our job to… plant a new generation of Seuss fans, treat his works with care, create something with a new Suessian flare, and pass on his works not to people with greed, for the true spirit of Dr.Suess is what everyone, everyone needs!

Wings has soared has soared through the charts in terms of being a sitcom.
The background information is about the Hacket brothers who start a small airport on a small island. This sitcom comes on Friday nights at 6:00 on U.S.A.

Wings is well worth your time because the storyline is realistic, the actors and actresses are amazing and act as believably as anyone else is in real life, and that the plot always consists of real-life events that the characters must face and resolve in each episode.

The acting in this sitcom is believable as well as humorous. Each character always has a humorously negative comment of themselves as well as one for a bad event that has taken place in their lives. For instance, Lowell says, “Come on man, I’m not made of glass- although sometimes I wish I were, glass being such a poor conductor of electricity.” He’s an airplane mechanic who in every episode, is electrocuted.
There are also well-known actors in this sitcom such as Thomas Hayden Church a.k.a.: “Spider-Man 3”’s ”Sand Man”.

The setting stays the same on each and almost every episode unless it’s a special episode like going over to parent’s house for Christmas or going to the movie theater. The setting is usually in the airport or at the food court, sitting at the bar-type place talking about thinks over a mug of coffee. The special settings include art galleries, councilor’s office, airplane hangar, or at home.

All in all, Wings is a humorously touching sitcom that is backed up by hilarious cast members who seem to be able to reach in and touch your heart by presenting hilarious, fall on the ground, smack in the face acting, a generalized and remote location, and a beautifully and wonderfully random plot for each episode.

At this very moment my father is playing Christmas music so loud that it can be heard throughout the house. Listening makes me feel nostalgic. You see, I’m the youngest of four kids – by a large margin – and Christmas has always been the biggest holiday at my house. In elementary school I used to wait desperately for the day that my brothers and sister would come home from college because that meant Christmas was really coming. Once they were home, we were one big happy family.

On Christmas morning I would run from bedroom to bedroom waking up my very reluctant siblings at what they thought was the crack of dawn – though I had already been up for hours! We’d gather at the top of the stairs so Dad could delay opening the gifts by making coffee and insisting he take a picture of us. Once he gave the signal, I’d race them all down the stairs. Every year my only real competition was my oldest brother, David. We’d run as fast as we could, pushing and shoving and seeking alternate routes to the room full of presents. I always looked forward to that race.

Once we all got a good look at our presents, my parents made us take turns opening them one at a time. I always made sure I was the first one to wish my brother Kevin a happy birthday. After presents, the six of us always sat down to a big breakfast.

That was then, and this is now. My sister got married four years ago. After that, I only had to wake up four people on Christmas morning. There were no longer six of us in the family picture. A year and a half ago, my brother David got married. Since then, I’ve only had to wake up three people, and there were only four of us in the picture.

Last year was the first time I didn’t have anyone to race with. I miss that. Soon my brother Kevin will be married and our family picture will narrow to three people. I won’t be the first to wish him “Happy Birthday.” Then, I’ll only have to wake up two people.

When I think back to the Christmases when we were all together, I feel sad. The most important people in my life are my five family members. It feels as though I have a hole in my heart when they all aren’t there. I’ll always long for us to be together again as the “original six.” But I still have all those memories and the excitement of Christmases to come. My family – that’s what really matters to me. .

Ever since I was a little girl my mom would call me her tan princess, translated it sounds ridiculous but in Spanish it’s sweet. I always knew I was different compared to other people but I did not pay attention to it. I would be called hispanic or latina because my parents are from central America and due to the fact that I speak Spanish. To me they are positive words, I think of our energy and strong voices.

Unfortunately, not everyone has the same opinion as me. They associate these words with being an immigrant or Mexican. Some people think we are dumb, that we do drugs, that we are poor, or that we are trash. This is pure racism. These people are not compassionate, these people are heartless. We should not be labeled because truly anyone could be dumb, poor, and so on. I do not think I should be judged because of my skin color, because of the way I look. I do not understand why I need put a checkmark on some papers to inform that I am hispanic, why can’t I simply be human? My race does not matter. I am just like everyone else. I thought discrimination did not exist anymore but it clearly does. My mother does not deserve to be treated like trash. She’s worked hard, harder than the average American. My mother is stronger than those racist people.

As we grow older we begin to discover the remarkable and twisted ways our bodies react to the extolled and glorified feeling of love. This force, passion and pull has not only caused half the women in the world to max out their credit cards, but has created great empires to fall, civilizations to rise, and on a more depressing note, lives to burn. This bond that can either place us on cloud nine or send us right threw it follows us throughout the many stages of life.

As you begin to tally up the years, you begin to comprehend the witchcraft of this four-letter word and how it holds much more than two vowels and a pair of continents. Instead of playing hide-and-go-seek, you spend your nights trying to get Barbie and Ken to make out in Barbie’s hot tub and play doctor with the boy who used to dump sand in your pants. We discover a type of emotion that makes us run away as soon as we see that special someone and discover a feeling that shoots anxiety so far up our spines, we explode into a human firework. Like a lion embedded deep in the grass of youth we come to find that there is no stopping this vicious attack of emotion.

If you haven’t noticed already, I personally had a head on collision with love while traveling one hundred miles per hour down a road I should not have been on. What I learned was that love tends to sweep its victims off their feet, leaving them suffocated and arthritic for every moment they and their prince charming breath in the same air, or even worse, exist on the same planet. Every move, every smile and every glance resembles a masterpiece in your mind, which then abandons you with the vocabulary of a two year old and the mobility of a newborn. You literally feel like the last frozen dinner in the supermarket’s freezer, frostbitten, rock solid, and far from appetizing, until the moment comes when he decides to give you a little piece of his time. This is when you, Ms. Lean Cuisine, become over microwaved and transformed into a glob of mush. If you haven’t learned already, it is nearly impossible to have neutral emotions with these types of men. How on Earth is a girl supposed to stay neutral when her prince charming spends the night with her, shows her the time of her life, and then decides to forsake her in the morning?

We must remember, however, that no matter what we do, what we say or how we look, these men will never, in a million years, subdue to our cravings. You honestly could be the next Giselle Buchen and they’ll find some obscure reason to kick you to the curb, just the way they did five hundred times before. These types of men have the most amazing ability to transform women into their own little robots, or better yet, their own personal boomerangs. Time after time, no matter what the situation is, they will always fly back.

Until Suddenly! You have an epiphany and rip off the pajamas you’ve been wearing for weeks now, and throw the Ben and Jerry’s that was once permanently glued to your grip onto the floor as if it were a hand grenade headed right towards the bastard’s head! There is no reason to go back to this bloody, selfless, beast that destroyed your once beautiful life and ripped all the dignity you once had in it. You are finally free! You crank up Whitney Houston’s theme song and you dance around your room in your underwear until you shake your booty just as fast as you shake him from your life. You call up all your girlfriends and scream bloody murder about how over him you are and how it is officially girl’s night out. You go out and you buy a beautiful new dress, get your nails done, and cut off all your hair thinking this will officially transform you into the woman you have longed to be.

You’re on the breakaway in the last ten seconds of over time and you finally have the opportunity to have the crowd cheer for you, rather than being the one-person cheering section for a devilishly good-looking man who cares little, if nothing, about you. The woman who was left to freeze in the nosebleed section now has front row seats to see the world and all the things that have lied undiscovered for what seemed like a million years.

Your chest feels as if it’s going to explode with happiness, and you feel like making the world a better place. You sign up for yoga lessons, take on a different language, loose those ten extra pounds you have always wanted to shed, and even donate a hundred dollars to those depressing infomercials.

You are truly a new woman until the war siren goes off. Like soldiers embedded deep into the ground during a deadly war, you thought you were safe from this unexpected invasion. The piercing ring tone, the buzzing vibration, and the flashing light that convulses every five seconds becomes equivalent to a bomb that is about to explode and sabotage your new life.

Once again, the boomerang you used to be, the stupid robot that you thought was dismantled while jumping up and down to Whitney Houston on your bed, emerges to the surface as you pick up your phone like an idiot.

He immediately stirs up a recipe that feeds your suppressed and hungry heart that has been craving his works of art for weeks now. Your mouth begins to water and your sex drive takes the wheel. Before you know it, you pull a complete one-eighty and leave your girlfriends, who are already ready to celebrate, in the dark, just as he had months before. Unfortunately, if you’re anything like me, your sweet tooth has not only betrayed you in pant sizes, but for the sweet and sensuous taste of sweet talking men.

It is men like these that immediately make women think genuine, long-term potential boyfriends are as endangered as the koala bear. These heart breaking monotonous men uphold a master status for the rest of their kind, making women believe a free drink at the bar is equivalent to their desire to get us horizontal for a night that will just hit a wall in the morning.

If this is the never ending cycle of desperation and devastation that keeps rewinding itself, why do so many women fall for insanely gorgeous men who have absolutely nothing to offer them? Could it be a work of Darwin’s theory? Do women subconsciously go after the tall, strong, beautiful, well off men in order to repopulate the world with more tall, strong, beautiful, well off children, leaving the nice, smart, genuine, caring men at the bottom of the food chain? It is truly a wonder of the world that will never be figured out.

For the past four years I have tried to unravel this unsolved mystery that seems to haunt women throughout their early years, and in worst cases, the rest of their lives. After getting out of a painful on and off relationship for the past few years I had to stop and ask myself why I let it get so bad. I began to realize how easy it was for someone to open their mouth and produce thousands of sentences consisting of fairytales and promises that could never come true. After straightening out the circle I had been running in for the longest time, the dizziness this man created started to fade and I saw straight again. What was the point in acting like a slave that could be sold at any moment, a bug that could be squashed with one swipe, or a snowflake that blew in the direction of the wind? It is so easy for women to be swept away by the men they find truly irresistible, but so hard for them to realize they’re worthless. If you’re anything like me, you need to rip the reins out of this man’s hands and put yourself back on a track that leads far, far away from him. After uncomfortable minutes, hours, weeks and even months without him you will surly bump into someone who’s been dying to see you. This person does not have rock solid abs, bronzed Mediterranean skin, a suave tongue, or a nice car, but rather mediocre abs that could always use some work, a slightly awkward tongue that spits out the wrong words every now and then, and a car that looks as if it survived the T-Rex attack in Jurassic Park. The person who you will bump into is no one but yourself. Once you realize the useless amount of hours you spent sobbing, complaining, and conforming into someone who doesn’t respect you the slightest bit, you’ll be absolutely seduced by the strong and fearless woman you have grown to be. It is time for all women, whoever they may be, to put themselves on a pedestal and to stop succumbing to those who think they have power and control over them. This way, when the next man comes along, he’ll know he has very big, or rather very expensive, shoes to fill.

School and safety are typically two words that go hand in hand. You would expect that a place people send their kids to every day would be a safe place, however in recent years that doesn’t seem to be the case. More than ever, children, staff, and parents have to worry about school shootings. With the availability of semi automatics like the AR-15, it gives an opportunity to hurt many people in these situations. This is terrifying for a lot of people, and for a good reason, but some of the solutions that people offer up are not going to help the situation.

The idea of arming teachers in school is not something that should be up for debate. It is hard to imagine a soft spoken English teacher carrying a gun while teaching Shakespeare. Teachers are paid to teach, nurture and care for students, they are not here to shoot their own students. It is hard to believe any student, or teacher for that matter, would feel more comfortable knowing that their teacher had a gun. Having guns in the classroom could potentially cause students to be more intimidated by the teacher, or even uncomfortable or untrusting. Guns often turn an environment into a hostile and less forgiving place. Does that honestly sound like a good learning environment?

Teachers having guns aren’t going to stop school shootings, it will just leave a teacher replaying the moment they pulled the trigger and killed one of their own students. Teachers, are you ready to take a life? This isn’t something that should have to be on a teachers shoulders.

Instead of trying to arm people who are not ready to be armed, we should try and focus on mental health.
In every school shooting, the kids have been emotionally at risk. Something has caused them to want to hurt people in their school. Counselors and teachers need to pay attention to the signs that may indicate if a child is not okay. Mental health is extremely important, yet in high school, it’s as if mental health doesn’t even exist.
If I sound blunt, it’s because this is the only way my voice is heard. The administration in our nation, being the federal and local government, as well as school boards, don’t seem to listen to people my age. Only recently have we been able to make them stir them up, and we have only been able to do this by screaming as loud as we can, and stating the facts of what needs to happen in our country. We as a generation are scared, but we are fighting through our fear to make sure that we can make a change in our schools and our country.

We don’t need an army of teachers to protect us in school. What we need is to make sure that no students are in the state of mind that would cause them to want to hurt people.

This is not a matter of politics. This is not a matter of liberal versus conservative. This is a matter of our children dying, and being subjected to a tragedy no one should have to face.

I still remember the time that I made a simple request from God; the almighty and merciful, to send me back to the mortal world as a lonely spirit walking the Earth. God looked at me quizzically before he asked in his gentle yet firm voice, ‘and why do you wish for such a thing when you have been resurrected to spend all eternity in paradise?’’I was no fool. God knows everything does him not? It doesn’t matter if your dead or alive does it? He knew why I wanted to go back. I knew he knew. He knew I knew. We all know. Still, God’s eyes lingered on me heavily until I answered,’’ I wish to see the world. What it is like. Have we changed since my time?”The words of a dead man gushed out like a broken dam. I looked up at my creator, shepherd and saviour. In Gods soothing, sweet filled voice he spoke to me the words that I will never forget, “the world has changed dear one. You will be an outsider to a world you were once a part of. You will be a stranger in a land where mankind has chosen a different path…from you and from me.”I could not understand. Had the world changed so drastically over the years that a sense of sorrow, anger and sympathy replaces the lords’ comforting tone? “You may go but one should always remember to be careful of what one wishes for,” said God finally. That was when I immediately began to regret what I had wished for.
I thought that spirits were not supposed to feel anything. I was clearly wrong. I don’t even know where I am. The choking sun is blazing down on me so hard that it makes my eyes sting. When I closed my eyes I imagined being where I was born imagined seeing the trees covered with fruit in open green pastures. I remember the birds singing and the skies a deep friendly blue. The colours that nurtured me were lively, as if a picture book had come to life. All these things are no more. From what I stand before, people would call my birthplace heaven. For me it was simply home. The beauty of my childhood has been invaded by towering grey structures far and wide. It seems that factories have dominated space now and the black fumes released by it cover the blue sky once decorated with white clouds like a blanket, like a blanket choking a sleeping child. Where are the birds in the sky? All I see is the sun hiding behind dark clouds too afraid to show her face. Is she ashamed to shine her fiery light over this dull place? I see a river far ahead. Growing up I loved water. My father and I would go fishing together. I search in vain but there are no fathers and sons fishing together. The fish must have left like the birds I suppose. The only present occupants in the dark, slick river are the dead fish carried by the oily chemicals like flowers on lily pads. What has happened to the place I was born? The fields’ that were filled with greenery and life is now left sickly and polluted. Rubbish lies in heaps emanating an unbearable stench.
I roam around aimlessly trying to shake off what I have just witnessed. Is the whole world like this? Does anyone here care about the unwholesome place that they are trapped in? My thoughts lead me to play ground where the bright red paint is washed away from the slide, bent metal bars stick out awkwardly from the monkey bars and colourful drawings are scribbled on the wall on the wall. I thought writing on public property was vandalism, but seeing these pieces of simple art, I beg to differ. There are a few people sketched on the wall I faintly remember. They met God too. One is a musician with long braided hair and a reggae appeal…some Marley his name was. Another is the King; poor chap was assassinated for fighting for his civil rights. Apparently he had had a dream of some sort. I wonder if it became a reality. I remember the final one more clearly than the rest. He was from the other side of the globe, a simple man he was, armed with methods to win his independence that didn’t resolve to violence. But he did starve himself and engaged himself in long protesting walks to make a point. What odd things pop into the minds of lonely spirits? My thoughts are disrupted when I hear the joyous giggles of two children aged around nine playing with marbles with more concentration those gambling addicts.Laughing children! I thought and smile to myself. But I should have known better. My smile soon fades away when I see the fathers of these two children stand beside a dented car and argue, one being a white and the other an African American. It seems like the yells of the white man is far greater than the hushed down remarks made by the victim. The dark one shakes his head and controls his anger. He calls to his child and makes way towards his car still tightly clutching his son’s hand. Under his breath the dark one hears the white man call out ‘’old black n***** ‘’ with a sense of undying resentment. The young one oblivious to the commotion innocently asks his father, his eyes filled with confusion “what’s a n***** dad?’’. I am shocked and scarred for life. Well the afterlife of course. I thought that people in this era knew better. It seems like a hell of a good time for all individuals to accept one another and work towards the greater good, like taking care of their environment for instance. I wonder if I should tell King that his dream hasn’t still reached its’ highest potential.
Was this what God was talking about? I asked myself. Maybe I should float myself somewhere else. I teleport my self to the city where I spent my school days. My father worked day and night so that my siblings and I could have a good education. The city used to be a big deal for kids growing up in farms or ranches. We used to watch with our mouths open at the rich, waiting to offer help carrying their bags or run errands just to earn a couple of bucks .I am awestruck at its transformation after all these years. A grandly lit city of every hue presents itself before me. Its neon lights flashing away like expensive gems on a necklace. I am mesmerized by its divergence. We certainly have come a long way from my time, I thought. Despite its lavish appearance my attention is diverted towards a young boy in ragged clothes with matted hair and eyes hollow and colourless. He stands out amongst the crowd and seems lost in labyrinth of luxury. Rich feet covered by expensive shoes pass the scrawny outstretched hands with mobile phones held to their ears. I never knew what a mobile phone was until I died and met God. Some clumsily dropping a few coins onto his path while busy discusses some profitable price to pay. I am about to depart this tearing sight when the boy from the corner of my eye, walks over to a garbage can and begin rummaging through the dump. As a reward for his efforts he finds a half eaten bun tossed carelessly aside. The boy dusts it and pops it into his mouth savouring its soggy crust lined with a tinge of measly cream and produces a crooked smile so wide that the stars in the sky lose their light. I want to go over and comfort him. He looks cold, lonely and afraid. No one seems to notice him. He’s shuffling away now, his feet bare. He turns back and looks in my direction. Can he see me? I wonder. His face holds no expression. He continues his way aimlessly as me. I just stay floating there without the energy to move forward. The boys’ sick poverty stricken eyes seem to linger in the air even after he is gone. I look around wondering if anyone else felt what I just felt. People seem to be oblivious to what is happening to the people around them. I see friends’ and families’ laugh joyously over a street artists’ performance or a couple enjoying a well-to-do meal at a cafe. It was as if the little boy was invisible to those around him.
I am beginning to feel my regret deepen with each passing minute. I thought the world would be different. Well it certainly is not the same, no doubt about that. This is what God is talking about. Now I realise the bitter truth. People have taken a different path, a path that forgets God and their own kind. God was right; I am a stranger in this foreign land. I am unfamiliar with what I have just witnessed. I was never perfect, I must admit, but the days’ events have crushed my faith in humanity and have left only regret and grief. My mind has steered me to a community centre of some sort I believe. I hear people talking, good-naturedly. That is a good sign is it not? There is a calming atmosphere. This gladdens my heart and eases away the pain that I had envisioned earlier. The community centre is filled with people from many nationalities amicably chatting and discussing problems that confront them, comforting and consoling each other. Some are fair while others are dark, some are young and others have grey hair. They are speaking different languages which I don’t understand but there is no dispute arising, only warm smiles and twinkles in the eyes’ of the old. They have overcome their differences and have accepted each other whole heartedly. I am a witness to that. They are one, depending on each other.
I have seen enough. God is most merciful. He bestows his mercy even upon a wrongdoer, whose sins are uncountable, only if he sincerely repents. Similarly all the former horrors are eliminated by the latter, an episode of love, compassion and understanding enveloped in unity. My faith in humanity is reignited, but there is a conflict with an underlying layer of regret.I remember a time where children would play on the green whilst flora and fauna would flourish in abundance. I remember where all lived in harmony depending on each other for their existence. My only wish is to go back now.I have no intention to return.Having seen all that I need to see my only hope is that Gods’ greatest creation sees it too. I have faith in the human race; it may waver but I pray that a change may come before it is too late.

Dear Vietnam Veteran,

I took a trip to the different war memorials in Washington D.C. a couple of years ago, and really enjoyed the remembrance that each memorial gives to separate groups of veterans. But, after learning more about the sacrifices that veterans like you have made, the impact of these memorials mean a lot more to me. Each one of the memorials shows the highs and lows of different battles and wars, but only people like you, who were really there can tell if they’re accurate or not. That’s why it’s so important for you and your fellow veterans to visit these memorials and I hope you enjoyed them very much.

I’m a senior in high school, and dropping everything to join the military at my age seems like a very tough decision. I’m not sure I would be able to leave my loved ones behind to fight for our country, so I’d like to thank you for being brave enough to make that tough choice. The life altering decision that you made to join the Armed Forces means the world to me, and to many other Americans. Taking out years of your life to serve our country to defend our country is courageous and noble.

My grandfather fought in World War II and I always looked up to him. But he passed away before I was old enough to give him the proper thanks for fighting for our country. Now that I’m able to grasp the risk that every veteran takes when joining the service, I’d like to humbly thank you for all that you’ve done and welcome home.

Your passion, valor, and honor for this country means everything to me and millions of other Americans.

Thanks,
Highschooler

I remember, or at least I TRY to remember. I don’t know why but it’s a
memory that I feel I should keep a hold of. A memory that didn’t make
sense to me the moment it happened 9 years ago. If this memory I have
is lost, than I lose a part of me, an important part. Because this
memory is all I have of him, it’s the last REAL moments of him that I
have.

Losing a brother and not being able to remember the sound of his
voice, the smile on his face and the feel of his company is losing all
senses of what he use to be. All that is left is my memory. A memory I
vaguely remember. I pull to bring these memories about, I look at
pictures, I hear stories and I don’t remember. Stories from older
relatives who have clear memories, as they speak about the “good old
days” a smile caused by their reminiscing stories presents itself
although their eyes are frowning. I smile along with them but envy
their memories that I can not even attempt to come about.
“He was a good man.” My mother says staring at me with cloudy eyes.
“Always happy and helping the family.” My aunt replies looking down at
the floor. I see their struggle to talk about him without being
overwhelmed with sadness. I chuckle at the complements and nod my
head. I grin and wish of getting to know this amazing man of honesty,
family, and hard work. But I can’t “Why can’t you be more like your
brother?” my mother says with an angry disappointed roar. “He always
did ‘this’ and ‘that’.” I just look away and stay silenced. “I wish he
was here and NOT you.” Words from an older sister filled with so much
hate that she is unaware these words have the ability to mentally
break some one to their knees. (Inhale) I am easily infuriated by
these comments. They crawl under my skin, burn in my chest, like
inhaling a cloud of burning tobacco smoke. It hurts. It kills me. I
clench my fists and nobody to hit, nobody to blame. A devastating blow
to my stomach, I start to feel dizzy and grow an uncontrollable rage
accumulating inside and I have no idea how to control it… (Sigh)
that’s all I could do. Breathe and hope for tranquility, hope for
relief, hope for release of the frustration caused by my lack of
memory. I need to stop. I need to stop blaming myself. I blame the
killer.

This is my time. This is my time to speak out on street violence. This
is my time to vent to my boys and all the other young thugs and gang
affiliated teens my age that think an eye for an eye makes the world
see better or that respect in the streets is more important than
respect in the classroom or those who feel power from the grip of
tec-9 or those who are too shallow minded to realize that you gain
nothing by killing a man except for blood on your hands. It is these
types of people who caused my loss of memory and took away from me
possible future memories of my brother. If it wasn’t because of people
like them I’d know the type of man my brother is, I’d know the sound
of his voice, I’d know the amazing man the family is mourning the
death of. I’d know my lost brother.