I think the previous post works for this one as well, they are all detailed nature writing ideas. This one is about the plant in class:
Your eyes are instantly drawn to the vivid orange blossoms which are filled with bright yellow and patterned with red polka dots. The flowers are not open faced with petals, but look like little bloated tubes adorned with red skirts. They grow in clusters and bend from the stems all in the same direction looking for the sun. Forest green leaves sprout from the base to the top, their undersides are a lighter green. Each leave is split down the middle by a large vein with less visible streaks. The tips of the leaves are curled and brown, a result of water deprivation. Younger buds range in color from light green while the more mature buds turn to burgundy much like the stems. The immature blossoms begin to grow in between the leaves, as time passes they move upwards to bloom. Growing along the rim of the terracotta pot the plant has left the middle empty and tangled with roots. Tiny black poppy seed like points hide within the tubes contrasting against the sunny filled insides.
So far I do not like any of my ideas and need to find something that works.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Monday, October 29, 2007
#9
My first idea is the post below here are my 2nd two:
Weeping Willow – thin, looks young, only a few years old, slim trunk. Couple of branches stemming off with very fine limbs almost like a skeleton. They move like hair swaying in the wind, delicate. The bark is patchy like a giraffe’s neck, some knots in the middle. Small eyes imprinted in the wood stare back at me. The leaves are a light green, some turning yellow due to the season, and some limbs are completely bare and lonely. Her structure is too barren and weak to support animal life. She is placed in the center, surrounded by older and wiser oaks and sturdy sweet gums. The willow looks meek and modest, out of place. The branches lift with the smallest breathes of air. Shaped like a droopy, broken umbrella with stray wires jutting out, I do not know if it will survive the winter.
With this piece I could stem off and compare the willow to how I felt small and not as strong as others around me. With time and growing knowledge I became more assertive and comfortable with myself and being with others.
Maple Tree – Slanted and growing on an angle not fully grown, but on its way. The branches and leaves are clustered at the top, leaving the trunk free of clutter. It looks like a giant lemon lollipop or tufts of yellow cotton candy. The leaves are a mixture of bright yellow with burnt orange and red at the very top, the closest to the sun. A large nest made of brown crumbled leaves is fastened to the outer limbs. When a breeze comes through a medley of gold shakes and flutters to the ground. The maple is placed in front of a giant, thick tree taller than the building behind it. The yellow maple accents the bigger nicely, directing your attention to her bright colors and unique growing pattern. Her slanted trunk is a result of pushing its way towards the sunlight, her need for survival and escape from the shadows cast from the dominant tree.
This piece could be similiar to the willow. This maple tree is striving to shine and be seen, growing infront of a much bigger oak. I could relate by taking my time in finding who I am and being comfortable with my life and choices.
Weeping Willow – thin, looks young, only a few years old, slim trunk. Couple of branches stemming off with very fine limbs almost like a skeleton. They move like hair swaying in the wind, delicate. The bark is patchy like a giraffe’s neck, some knots in the middle. Small eyes imprinted in the wood stare back at me. The leaves are a light green, some turning yellow due to the season, and some limbs are completely bare and lonely. Her structure is too barren and weak to support animal life. She is placed in the center, surrounded by older and wiser oaks and sturdy sweet gums. The willow looks meek and modest, out of place. The branches lift with the smallest breathes of air. Shaped like a droopy, broken umbrella with stray wires jutting out, I do not know if it will survive the winter.
With this piece I could stem off and compare the willow to how I felt small and not as strong as others around me. With time and growing knowledge I became more assertive and comfortable with myself and being with others.
Maple Tree – Slanted and growing on an angle not fully grown, but on its way. The branches and leaves are clustered at the top, leaving the trunk free of clutter. It looks like a giant lemon lollipop or tufts of yellow cotton candy. The leaves are a mixture of bright yellow with burnt orange and red at the very top, the closest to the sun. A large nest made of brown crumbled leaves is fastened to the outer limbs. When a breeze comes through a medley of gold shakes and flutters to the ground. The maple is placed in front of a giant, thick tree taller than the building behind it. The yellow maple accents the bigger nicely, directing your attention to her bright colors and unique growing pattern. Her slanted trunk is a result of pushing its way towards the sunlight, her need for survival and escape from the shadows cast from the dominant tree.
This piece could be similiar to the willow. This maple tree is striving to shine and be seen, growing infront of a much bigger oak. I could relate by taking my time in finding who I am and being comfortable with my life and choices.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
#8 nature writing
I look forward to Sundays every week because I get to take my friend Andy out on adventures. Andy is 15 years old and has low-functioning Autism and his speech is difficult to understand. He has the bluest eyes I have ever seen and an innocence that makes him so beautiful. I'm not one to turn to God often, but I truly believe this boy is one of God's angels and I am a better person just from knowing him.
This past Sunday I went on a hike with Andy in the woods near his house. I had a printed map of the trails and reservation, but half an hour into our walk the map was useless. I put my trust in Andy and he became my tour guide. After walking for some time Andy pointed to an off beaten path filled with sharp rocks and prickly branches, but he seemed confidant in what he was pointing at so I followed him. The rocks jutted out of the ground in a staggered and uneven fashion, Andy and I used each others shoulders for balance. I saw a clearing up ahead and this is where Andy was determined to go. The rocks turned to pebbles and we were able to walk with our heads up now. My jaw literally dropped at the sight of an icredible view, he had led me to the top of a mountain. There was a huge stone platform where we eagerly climbed up and looked across the sky. We could see for miles, the clouds seemed reachable and the air was unseasonably warm. Andy layed down on the platform, places his hands under his head and looked up into the sky. I copied his pose and lay next to him, he urged me to sing twinkle twinkle little star which was completely appropriatechoice although it wasn't nightime, I was impressed. The sun was hot and we were both sweaty, I felt very whole and alive. Andy rose and reached down to take my hands and help me get up. I asked him if he wanted to dance and he happily suggested the hokey pokey. We jumped and sang as loud as we could, he was laughing and I wanted to cry. His complete happiness mixed with the most perfect day was very emotional for me. After a good hour of prancing ontop of this mountain we jumped off the platform together and I followed my guide back into the thick colorful woods.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
#7 Looking for Truth
My memoir is about centering and focusing on what is most important in my life, the elimination of outside people and factors that affect me negatively and inhibit my performance. My story is somewhat unique because the main focus essentially takes place over the course of one hour, a single hour during my summer. All the details I included are true to a ‘T’ and I think I should add even more details just so I can convey the big impact this experience had on me. The details support my focus of finding myself, but I need to elaborate even further.
My story is told sequentially, but I do not mention specific time differences. I begin with my arrival at camp, then skim over a few days, and then end on my experience that took place a week into the session. I believe it is easy to follow, I do mention just enough time frames for my reader to understand. I included minimal dialogue, most of which is between myself and a child who is non-verbal. Working with children who do not communicate through verbal language makes it easier for me to re-call ‘conversations,’ because I can vividly remember what I said to him. A major part of my memoir is when Alex speaks to me through sign language, which a completely valid type of communication and I can re-call exactly what signs he used because it was such a great moment.
I think I need to include more of my experience or compassion for working with kids with autism in the beginning of my story, otherwise my audience doesn’t know how much I truly care. As in all of my writing I want to be honest and tell the complete truth, this is a story about how I was not proud of myself. I let a man get in the way of my life, my work, my thoughts which I am very ashamed of. But I need to be honest about how I let myself down and more importantly how this experience made me pick myself back up.
I hope that I do not come off as the heart broken girl who feels sorry for herself. I want to focus more on Alex and my time spent with him instead of Yogev, the man I was love sick for. In order for my story to be ‘felt’ by others I need to include more imagery and describe the weather, woods, field, exactly how that summer day felt in humid upstate NY. In my head the scenery played a major role in my experience, but I barely touched upon it so far.
My story is told sequentially, but I do not mention specific time differences. I begin with my arrival at camp, then skim over a few days, and then end on my experience that took place a week into the session. I believe it is easy to follow, I do mention just enough time frames for my reader to understand. I included minimal dialogue, most of which is between myself and a child who is non-verbal. Working with children who do not communicate through verbal language makes it easier for me to re-call ‘conversations,’ because I can vividly remember what I said to him. A major part of my memoir is when Alex speaks to me through sign language, which a completely valid type of communication and I can re-call exactly what signs he used because it was such a great moment.
I think I need to include more of my experience or compassion for working with kids with autism in the beginning of my story, otherwise my audience doesn’t know how much I truly care. As in all of my writing I want to be honest and tell the complete truth, this is a story about how I was not proud of myself. I let a man get in the way of my life, my work, my thoughts which I am very ashamed of. But I need to be honest about how I let myself down and more importantly how this experience made me pick myself back up.
I hope that I do not come off as the heart broken girl who feels sorry for herself. I want to focus more on Alex and my time spent with him instead of Yogev, the man I was love sick for. In order for my story to be ‘felt’ by others I need to include more imagery and describe the weather, woods, field, exactly how that summer day felt in humid upstate NY. In my head the scenery played a major role in my experience, but I barely touched upon it so far.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
#6 memoir draft
I wait all year for this day to come and now that its here I am bursting with excitement, but my nerves are making me uneasy. Ramapo for Children has been my summer home since 2005, the most special place in my heart. Inspiring children, Enriching lives is our slogan. Ramapo is a sleepaway camp for children and teens with emotional, behavior, at-risk, and autism spectrum disorders. It is also the most intense and humbling experience I have ever been apart of. Now I’m back, I always enter during training week about 5 days late due to summer school. This makes it somewhat more difficult because I miss out on the initial bonding between the new and old staff members.
Here I am, back again in beautiful upstate New York and I can’t even get out of the car. I have been dreaming of seeing him again, is he really back? Yogev- the most handsome and elusive man I have ever had the privilege to call mine; well he was mine, but briefly. The summer of 2006 was our summer. I walked down the trail looking for my new group of co-workers who would be my family for the next 9 weeks. They were sitting on the benches of bunks 17 and 18, I hate walking into groups expecially when everyone was silent. I climbed the steps and coyly waved hello, once I was noticed huge hugs and hellos were exchanged. My friend Dan and now boss [so weird!] squeezed me tightly and said “Everyone this is Jessie, she is amazing. Please get to know her, its worth your while. I guarantee you will learn the most from this girl right here.”
I smiled brightly and felt a bit more at ease, but where is he?! He wasn’t there; maybe this is good because I do not know what to say to him or even how to look at him. It has been a year since we spoke, Israel and New Jersey is quite a distance. Oh god, that familiar scent- his cologne mixed with cigarettes, that is Yogev’s signature smell. His dark arms spun me around before I could react, he held my face and kissed my cheek. I was shaking, I’ve waited so long for this moment I wanted it to be perfect. I imagined we would run down the trail together laughing and holding hands, the way it used to be. Sadly couldn’t have been more wrong. Barely making eye contact, he quickly walked to the other side of the deck and obviously pretended to be busy. This set the tone for summer 2007 ‘the best summer ever’ AKA the summer I learned to let go.
Our campers arrived on a Monday and I thought that he would have to speak to me, even if it was just work related. I was wrong again. Yogev acted as if I were invisible, he had others send messages to me even simple ones such as “Arts and crafts is being switched with basketball today.” What is his problem? What did I do? I became so self conscious, did I change? I started getting up earlier in the mornings just to make sure my completely unruly hair looked somewhat decent. Which was a lost cause because we live outside! Heat + humidity does not equal good looking hair. Since when did I care about stupid things like this? I became so focused on myself and my appearance that I was slipping away from what is most important to me- my campers. I have worked with children and teens with autism since I was 12 years old, this is where I excel and have always felt one hundred percent confidant in my abilities. Sitting in the dining hall I was so fixated on catching his eye that I didn’t even realize that the camper sitting next to me threw up. I need to snap out of it, I have never let a guy cut into me like this.
It was time for the counselor talent show, the whole camp comes together at the meeting grounds while singing and dancing for an hour. Events like these are often a disaster with my bunk, individuals with autism have a difficult time with loud and chaotic settings. I opted to stay out with my camper Alex. Alex is 14 years old, non-verbal, lanky, and easily frightened- which can lead to aggressive behaviors. He acts like a scared animal, always alert and ready to flee any situation that is unfamiliar to him.
I took Alex’s hand and led him to the playground which is a good distance away from the talent show. He was unsure of what was going on and he immediately kicked off his shoes and ran across the soccer field. I wanted him to trust me so badly, I realized I did not have a relationship with this boy and it was already a week into the session. I am the group leader, I live with these boys day in and day out- how do I not know him at all?! I cannot believe I let Yogev busy my head with worries when I am here with a beautiful and intriguing child. Alex’s twiggy and pale legs were sprinting pretty fast now, I called for him and surprisingly he did turn around. Like him, I kicked off my shoes and ran towards him. He waited for me, I took his hand and tried to have him run with me. He let go and stared at me, “Come on Alex lets run this way!” I try to imitate many of my campers behaviors in order to get a reaction from them and have them see that what they are doing is okay [as long as they are being safe.] He followed my lead and we headed for the swing set, I was smiling as big as I could trying to convey to him ‘happy’ and ‘this is fun.’ He smiled back! I was so excited he even began to giggle, this small break gave me a surge of energy.
He happily sat on a swing, looked at me and in sign language said ‘more.’ I almost fell over, I didn’t know he could sign! He signed to me, this is amazing. I eagerly went behind him and pushed him on the swing, then I ran in front. Each time his legs went up to pump I jumped to tickle his toes. He was now laughing hysterically and signing ‘more’ repeatedly. We were feeding off each others energy, and I finally felt centered. This is why I am here, this is why I love Ramapo so much. I do not come here for personal relationships, how dare I let myself get wrapped up in a man who is clearly no good for me. Alex slowed down on the swing, I was so overjoyed and elated that he helped me find myself again that I grabbed him and hugged him tight while saying ‘thank you.’ He was not interested in my over affection, wriggled out of my grasp and took off running across the field. I chased after him, we laughed and formed an unconventional game of tag. Being under the summer sun we were both dripping with sweat, and I never felt better. I grabbed our shoes and we ran down the trail together- hand in hand.
Here I am, back again in beautiful upstate New York and I can’t even get out of the car. I have been dreaming of seeing him again, is he really back? Yogev- the most handsome and elusive man I have ever had the privilege to call mine; well he was mine, but briefly. The summer of 2006 was our summer. I walked down the trail looking for my new group of co-workers who would be my family for the next 9 weeks. They were sitting on the benches of bunks 17 and 18, I hate walking into groups expecially when everyone was silent. I climbed the steps and coyly waved hello, once I was noticed huge hugs and hellos were exchanged. My friend Dan and now boss [so weird!] squeezed me tightly and said “Everyone this is Jessie, she is amazing. Please get to know her, its worth your while. I guarantee you will learn the most from this girl right here.”
I smiled brightly and felt a bit more at ease, but where is he?! He wasn’t there; maybe this is good because I do not know what to say to him or even how to look at him. It has been a year since we spoke, Israel and New Jersey is quite a distance. Oh god, that familiar scent- his cologne mixed with cigarettes, that is Yogev’s signature smell. His dark arms spun me around before I could react, he held my face and kissed my cheek. I was shaking, I’ve waited so long for this moment I wanted it to be perfect. I imagined we would run down the trail together laughing and holding hands, the way it used to be. Sadly couldn’t have been more wrong. Barely making eye contact, he quickly walked to the other side of the deck and obviously pretended to be busy. This set the tone for summer 2007 ‘the best summer ever’ AKA the summer I learned to let go.
Our campers arrived on a Monday and I thought that he would have to speak to me, even if it was just work related. I was wrong again. Yogev acted as if I were invisible, he had others send messages to me even simple ones such as “Arts and crafts is being switched with basketball today.” What is his problem? What did I do? I became so self conscious, did I change? I started getting up earlier in the mornings just to make sure my completely unruly hair looked somewhat decent. Which was a lost cause because we live outside! Heat + humidity does not equal good looking hair. Since when did I care about stupid things like this? I became so focused on myself and my appearance that I was slipping away from what is most important to me- my campers. I have worked with children and teens with autism since I was 12 years old, this is where I excel and have always felt one hundred percent confidant in my abilities. Sitting in the dining hall I was so fixated on catching his eye that I didn’t even realize that the camper sitting next to me threw up. I need to snap out of it, I have never let a guy cut into me like this.
It was time for the counselor talent show, the whole camp comes together at the meeting grounds while singing and dancing for an hour. Events like these are often a disaster with my bunk, individuals with autism have a difficult time with loud and chaotic settings. I opted to stay out with my camper Alex. Alex is 14 years old, non-verbal, lanky, and easily frightened- which can lead to aggressive behaviors. He acts like a scared animal, always alert and ready to flee any situation that is unfamiliar to him.
I took Alex’s hand and led him to the playground which is a good distance away from the talent show. He was unsure of what was going on and he immediately kicked off his shoes and ran across the soccer field. I wanted him to trust me so badly, I realized I did not have a relationship with this boy and it was already a week into the session. I am the group leader, I live with these boys day in and day out- how do I not know him at all?! I cannot believe I let Yogev busy my head with worries when I am here with a beautiful and intriguing child. Alex’s twiggy and pale legs were sprinting pretty fast now, I called for him and surprisingly he did turn around. Like him, I kicked off my shoes and ran towards him. He waited for me, I took his hand and tried to have him run with me. He let go and stared at me, “Come on Alex lets run this way!” I try to imitate many of my campers behaviors in order to get a reaction from them and have them see that what they are doing is okay [as long as they are being safe.] He followed my lead and we headed for the swing set, I was smiling as big as I could trying to convey to him ‘happy’ and ‘this is fun.’ He smiled back! I was so excited he even began to giggle, this small break gave me a surge of energy.
He happily sat on a swing, looked at me and in sign language said ‘more.’ I almost fell over, I didn’t know he could sign! He signed to me, this is amazing. I eagerly went behind him and pushed him on the swing, then I ran in front. Each time his legs went up to pump I jumped to tickle his toes. He was now laughing hysterically and signing ‘more’ repeatedly. We were feeding off each others energy, and I finally felt centered. This is why I am here, this is why I love Ramapo so much. I do not come here for personal relationships, how dare I let myself get wrapped up in a man who is clearly no good for me. Alex slowed down on the swing, I was so overjoyed and elated that he helped me find myself again that I grabbed him and hugged him tight while saying ‘thank you.’ He was not interested in my over affection, wriggled out of my grasp and took off running across the field. I chased after him, we laughed and formed an unconventional game of tag. Being under the summer sun we were both dripping with sweat, and I never felt better. I grabbed our shoes and we ran down the trail together- hand in hand.
#5 Analysis of personal essay
What is your essay about?
My essay is about the development of a very important relationship in my life. I seem to mention feeling insecure or nervous often which is a natural and raw emotion that most of us cannot help but feel, especially while being around someone we care about.
Who is your audience?
My audience would most likely be readers close to my current age of 22 years old. Many people can enjoy a coming of age love story, but I think it hits closer to the hearts of college aged individuals. My writing will include some flashbacks to high school, so I’m sure younger readers would be able to enjoy and relate. My audience does not have to be limited to those who are or who have been in relationships, but anyone who has found someone special that helps shape who you are.
What is your purpose?
My main purpose is to write for myself, this is my story, my scary and personal story about the love of my life. I have been hesitant in writing about someone I am so close to, because we are not perfect [nobody is of course] but we [Camille and I] are very flawed and not the conventional couple. Are we even a couple? My purpose is to be honest and straightforward. I believe most people will be able to relate to my story, experiencing love and pain, jealousy and anger are typical and natural feelings that accompany a relationship. My writing can be used to relate to the feeling of “I am not alone,” having the comfort that many of us are going through the same thing.
How have you used form to effect your purpose?
I wrote my essay almost like a journal entry, I feel that I flow the best this way. I also use the form of parallelism by alternating the past and present. I am beginning from the present, but sticking in old memories that help give some background and information of my relationship in the years past. I am writing about a relationship that initially started when I was 16 years old, [I am now 22] I have many stories that I would like to tell within the past 6 years.
My essay is about the development of a very important relationship in my life. I seem to mention feeling insecure or nervous often which is a natural and raw emotion that most of us cannot help but feel, especially while being around someone we care about.
Who is your audience?
My audience would most likely be readers close to my current age of 22 years old. Many people can enjoy a coming of age love story, but I think it hits closer to the hearts of college aged individuals. My writing will include some flashbacks to high school, so I’m sure younger readers would be able to enjoy and relate. My audience does not have to be limited to those who are or who have been in relationships, but anyone who has found someone special that helps shape who you are.
What is your purpose?
My main purpose is to write for myself, this is my story, my scary and personal story about the love of my life. I have been hesitant in writing about someone I am so close to, because we are not perfect [nobody is of course] but we [Camille and I] are very flawed and not the conventional couple. Are we even a couple? My purpose is to be honest and straightforward. I believe most people will be able to relate to my story, experiencing love and pain, jealousy and anger are typical and natural feelings that accompany a relationship. My writing can be used to relate to the feeling of “I am not alone,” having the comfort that many of us are going through the same thing.
How have you used form to effect your purpose?
I wrote my essay almost like a journal entry, I feel that I flow the best this way. I also use the form of parallelism by alternating the past and present. I am beginning from the present, but sticking in old memories that help give some background and information of my relationship in the years past. I am writing about a relationship that initially started when I was 16 years old, [I am now 22] I have many stories that I would like to tell within the past 6 years.
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
#3 brainstorming for memoir
My earliest memories are from around 2-3 years old. I remember bits and pieces of time, snapshots of being in my house in Connecticut with my nanny. I feel like she did not watch me that closely because I was always watching her, wondering what she was doing. She watched the movie Dirty Dancing over and over and today I still love the soundtrack. The smell of her cigarettes was soothing to me and to this day when I smell that brand I think of being a little girl. I can still see the tiny yellow car she drove, I used to pick at the peeling paint on the side. I once colored rainbows in chalk on the legs of the dining room chairs. I washed them away with water before she ever noticed.
I was around 5 years old and my parents took me to the eye doctor. There was some concern about the unusual shape of my eye, the inside not exterior. Doctors were concerned that I had childhood glaucoma, which can lead to blindness. They tried to dilate my pupils with eye drops and for some reason this scared me so badly that every time I cried out the medicine, making it impossible for anyone to see my eyes. To this day I cannot jump into a pool or even put my face under the shower without immediately wiping the water away from my eyes. I do not know how to submerge myself in water, pop up, and open my eyes. It is literally impossible and I still cannot put eye drops in, good thing I don’t have allergies.
I have a wonderful and caring family, but a lot of struggles within. I am fortunate to know what I want to do in life, I am going to be a special education teacher. Throughout the years I have worked with some incredible individuals who truly are so important in my life. My best friend and I have worked at a special needs sleep-away camp for the past 3 years, we take care of the teenage boys with autism. Domenic is my other half, my sounding board, my co-worker. We even have matching tattoos to show our love and dedication to each other as well as the teens we have worked with. I have never met a man with his patience and compassion, I truly feel that we were meant to meet and know each other forever. He is me in a different body and I am him.
I am horribly angry with my brother. He was diagnosed with Bipolar disorder when he was 9 years old, which is rare as a child. His anger, rage, and mania throughout the years has pushed my family to their limits. He will be turning 19 in December and for the past two months he has been on a manic roller coaster, taking me and my parents with him. His lack of responsibility or remorse for things he has done wrong makes me sick. His anger and extreme rage is frightening and debilitating, my parents don’t have the energy to fight back anymore. Nobody knows what to do, they come to me for advice and I am at a total loss. Yes I am a special ed major, I have patience, lots of it- but for him I have little to none. He is killing my parents and making them older by the day, I almost feel like I came first they are my parents so stop abusing them. As of right now there is nothing we can do.
Rhinebeck NY, Ramapo for Children aka Ramapo Anchorage Camp is my absolute favorite place in the world. This camp has changed me in every way. With the beautiful scenery, open skies, miles of green, the air feels different. The campers I have worked with are so incredible that I truly believe they are angels sent from above, and I am in no means religious. I pick up on this energy that lifts me up and I am able to pass it along to others. I have met the most amazing people in NY. Anyone who signs up to work at Ramapo is not doing it for money or any type of selfish need, you do if for others. It is a life changing experience when you devote yourself to a greater cause. That may sound so cliché or even pretentious, but it is the only way to truly give in to love. “Live your life with a compassion you can be proud of then let your last breathe fade away with dignity and love.”
My parents love to re-tell how I was such a fearful child. I was scared to walk, my parents knew I could I just refused to. So when I decided to take my first step, I ran, I ran in circles around the room. I was scared of my first tooth falling out, so I let that baby hang out of my mouth until the very last strand broke instead of simply taking it out myself. I was scared to get eye drops in my eyes. I didn’t like anything that could potentially hurt me. I refused to walk on the sand on a beautiful tropical vacation because there were black dots, I thought they were bugs, it was actually seaweed. I was scared to ride a bike, I only decided to learn once I saw my 4 year old brother zooming around the neighborhood on two wheels.
I will be recognized as teacher of the year. I am not one for the spotlight, but I do need my dedication to be recognized. I will have married my high school sweetheart, Camille F. Olivier- making me Mrs. Olivier. I want to work or create my own program for individuals with Autism, most likely in an outside setting. I would want to live in upstate NY or the city, maybe someplace in-between. I want my brother to be stable and my parents to not be old. I want respect and to be confidant in myself. I will never let Domenic be alone, I want him to find his love. I want us to go to Israel together and spend as much time there as we want. I want to make break throughs and work with teenagers, teaching life skills.
I was around 5 years old and my parents took me to the eye doctor. There was some concern about the unusual shape of my eye, the inside not exterior. Doctors were concerned that I had childhood glaucoma, which can lead to blindness. They tried to dilate my pupils with eye drops and for some reason this scared me so badly that every time I cried out the medicine, making it impossible for anyone to see my eyes. To this day I cannot jump into a pool or even put my face under the shower without immediately wiping the water away from my eyes. I do not know how to submerge myself in water, pop up, and open my eyes. It is literally impossible and I still cannot put eye drops in, good thing I don’t have allergies.
I have a wonderful and caring family, but a lot of struggles within. I am fortunate to know what I want to do in life, I am going to be a special education teacher. Throughout the years I have worked with some incredible individuals who truly are so important in my life. My best friend and I have worked at a special needs sleep-away camp for the past 3 years, we take care of the teenage boys with autism. Domenic is my other half, my sounding board, my co-worker. We even have matching tattoos to show our love and dedication to each other as well as the teens we have worked with. I have never met a man with his patience and compassion, I truly feel that we were meant to meet and know each other forever. He is me in a different body and I am him.
I am horribly angry with my brother. He was diagnosed with Bipolar disorder when he was 9 years old, which is rare as a child. His anger, rage, and mania throughout the years has pushed my family to their limits. He will be turning 19 in December and for the past two months he has been on a manic roller coaster, taking me and my parents with him. His lack of responsibility or remorse for things he has done wrong makes me sick. His anger and extreme rage is frightening and debilitating, my parents don’t have the energy to fight back anymore. Nobody knows what to do, they come to me for advice and I am at a total loss. Yes I am a special ed major, I have patience, lots of it- but for him I have little to none. He is killing my parents and making them older by the day, I almost feel like I came first they are my parents so stop abusing them. As of right now there is nothing we can do.
Rhinebeck NY, Ramapo for Children aka Ramapo Anchorage Camp is my absolute favorite place in the world. This camp has changed me in every way. With the beautiful scenery, open skies, miles of green, the air feels different. The campers I have worked with are so incredible that I truly believe they are angels sent from above, and I am in no means religious. I pick up on this energy that lifts me up and I am able to pass it along to others. I have met the most amazing people in NY. Anyone who signs up to work at Ramapo is not doing it for money or any type of selfish need, you do if for others. It is a life changing experience when you devote yourself to a greater cause. That may sound so cliché or even pretentious, but it is the only way to truly give in to love. “Live your life with a compassion you can be proud of then let your last breathe fade away with dignity and love.”
My parents love to re-tell how I was such a fearful child. I was scared to walk, my parents knew I could I just refused to. So when I decided to take my first step, I ran, I ran in circles around the room. I was scared of my first tooth falling out, so I let that baby hang out of my mouth until the very last strand broke instead of simply taking it out myself. I was scared to get eye drops in my eyes. I didn’t like anything that could potentially hurt me. I refused to walk on the sand on a beautiful tropical vacation because there were black dots, I thought they were bugs, it was actually seaweed. I was scared to ride a bike, I only decided to learn once I saw my 4 year old brother zooming around the neighborhood on two wheels.
I will be recognized as teacher of the year. I am not one for the spotlight, but I do need my dedication to be recognized. I will have married my high school sweetheart, Camille F. Olivier- making me Mrs. Olivier. I want to work or create my own program for individuals with Autism, most likely in an outside setting. I would want to live in upstate NY or the city, maybe someplace in-between. I want my brother to be stable and my parents to not be old. I want respect and to be confidant in myself. I will never let Domenic be alone, I want him to find his love. I want us to go to Israel together and spend as much time there as we want. I want to make break throughs and work with teenagers, teaching life skills.
revised draft.
I look prettier with my hair down, but I always wear it up, if I show up with it down it will look like I’m trying too hard. Should I wear the same outfit I wore to school? Attempt to make it appear that I didn’t put too much thought into this date? Is this a date? Oh my god I’m going on my first real date! I can’t lie ever since I got home I’ve been playing dress up with my wardrobe and counting the minutes until it was time to go. My dad drove me to the movie theatre and I crossed my fingers just hoping he would be there before I was. We didn’t have cell phones when we were sixteen so I had to take his word for a meeting time and place. Dad pulled up and I smiled with relief to see Camille standing there waiting for me patiently. We saw the movie “Joyride” I have almost no recollection of what the movie is about or who is in it, I just remember him preparing me for the “scary parts.” The movie was less than thrilling so I found it funny that he was looking for an excuse to hold my hand or lean in close to me.
My memory jumps to nervously standing in the Morristown green and saying our goodbyes. Camille is a grade older than me, is in a band, and has a mohawk…which all put together meant my dream boy. I was shocked that this cool older guy wanted to take me out, I’ve always been on the quieter side- how did he even notice me? With his hands in his pockets he leaned into me and we kissed. We both took a step back and went our separate ways- quickly, both too nervous to say anything more. To my surprise a group of my friends were on the other side of the park, they wanted details, but I’ve always kept details of boys to myself. There was Ryan, sitting on his BMX bike and smiling at me. We’ve had a mutual crush on each other for a couple weeks now. I could still see Camille walking down South Street, I pretended that I couldn’t and I left with Ryan. This was just the beginning of running off with boys who were easy, who were funny, who didn’t challenge me in any way.
The question of the day was “Are you going to see Trophy Scars and The Prime play tonight?” Who did these kids think they were talking to? Of course I was going, I am The Prime’s biggest fan AKA Camille’s biggest fan. My best girlfriends and I adoringly referred to ourselves as the bands best ‘groupies,’ but not the bimbo/attention seeking type. We were so proud that our friends, our best guy friends had made a name for themselves outside of Morristown. They were The Prime from New Jersey; Camille couldn’t go to the mall without being recognized or see teens wearing their logo. Nickie picked me up from my house in her new 2003 two door silver Saturn, it was a big change from her Jeep. For some reason we felt like rockstars in her brand new car, we rolled down the windows and let the summer air pull our hair in every direction. Just graduating high school brought on feelings of maturity mixed with recklessness. Nickie flew down 287 while we both sang along with Saves the Day on the top of our lungs “and please if you’ve got a minute, enjoy this lonely sky with me. It will swallow us whole- if we only let it!”
We pulled up to Bloomfield Ave Café in Montclair and squeezed into the first parking spot we saw, we were already late. It wasn’t Nickie’s fault, I am always late, and especially when I knew I would be seeing Camille. We already had purchase tickets in advance, so we through them on the merch girls table and ran inside. The Prime had already started performing; Camille as usual was sitting behind his drum set furiously pounding away. I pushed my way to the front making it known that was my position. After the first song James the singer talked to the crowd about buying their CD, I took the opportunity to grab Camille’s attention. I pointed my wrist and he nodded, I went to the side of the stage and quickly climbed up. I took of my navy wristband with the red heart and handed it to Camille, he slipped it onto his wrist and resumed drumming. This was our tradition, not sure how it started- but before every performance I
would lend him my wristband. He liked to think of it as a modified ‘wearing your heart on your sleeve’ type concept.
Nickie and I danced around the floor, and rocked out to our favorite band. The last song came to an end and James began to thank the audience for coming, but Camille started hitting his drums some more. The band took his lead and they played one more song, my favorite song “Sweeter Than Sweet.” James was not too fond of this song, but Camille knew I loved it, this silent dedication to me made me feel like a queen. I helped break down his drum set while Trophy Scars took the stage, we rarely had the opportunity to watch bands perform from the floor. We pushed the drums to the side, decided to worry about it later and let ourselves get lost in the crowd. Camille took my hand and looked into my eyes, we both had the dreamy “young and in love” expression across our faces. He told me I was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, and coming from him- I believed it. A month later I left to go to college in CT and he went to school in Philly, I didn’t know what to say to him. He did, he always knows what to say:
August 22, 2003 “Thoughts on the future are, well, the future is easy because it doesn't exist, but the past is hard because it lasts forever."
My brother wasn’t allowed on the plane because his passport expired, even thought the agent my mother spoke to the day before said “It’s no big deal, as long as you get a new one in the next 2 months.” Our family vacation plans changed very quickly, my mom is always on her toes and if things can’t be done her way- well she will find a way. “Jess is there somewhere in the U.S. you have wanted to go?” It didn’t take me long to blurt out California! I had promised Camille that I would go out there and see him, as long as he still considered NJ his home. The thought of CA always made me kind of sick, Los Angeles seems like a horrible place to be. Silicon women, no imperfections, moneymoneymoney. I am very confidant in my character, who I am and what I stand for. But I’m only human, and its tough being a girl and not feel ‘less than’ in the constant and silent competition sometimes. I knew that if I had Camille by my side he would make me feel like the most precious being not just in LA but in the world, he always has.
I arrived in San Diego prepared for ‘family vacation,’ of course I immediately turned my phone on and called Camille. A couple hours later I was [once again] in the car with my dad on my way to the train station. I was so anxious and nervous, having not seen him in months- naturally I was running very late. I had to run into the station, buy my ticket and bolt it to the train. My heart was pounding while I fell into a seat, I barely made it. I took out a box of makeup and began a cycle of painting and then washing my face. I wanted to look perfect, but not too perfect- he says he prefers me with no makeup, but that’s just what boys say. I ended up here I began with my classic look of lined eyes and pouty lips. I sent him a text message asking him to be there to pick me up on time because I’m unfamiliar with LA and honestly scared of that city. I stepped out of the station, took a quick glance at the cars waiting and thank God, there he was, being harassed by a woman telling him that he isn’t allowed to park in a loading zone. I jumped into his car, he took off and the woman scribbled his license plate number on her pad of paper. I bounced in the passenger seat while hugging him, trying not to distract his driving. We were so happy, both with that familiar dreamy look on our faces.
I couldn’t take my eyes off of him, I studied his face, his new tattoos, and the familiar ones. He has a purple lotus flower on his neck, I knew it was his first, but couldn’t remember why he got it. “Why did you get the flower again?” He looked at me, shocked that I didn’t know, he said it was for me. I didn’t understand because the scroll in the middle of it says “The beginning of the end,” a saying that I relate with negativity. Of course I was wrong, he meant that I was his first true love and no matter who came between us, he knew in the end it would be him and I.
My memory jumps to nervously standing in the Morristown green and saying our goodbyes. Camille is a grade older than me, is in a band, and has a mohawk…which all put together meant my dream boy. I was shocked that this cool older guy wanted to take me out, I’ve always been on the quieter side- how did he even notice me? With his hands in his pockets he leaned into me and we kissed. We both took a step back and went our separate ways- quickly, both too nervous to say anything more. To my surprise a group of my friends were on the other side of the park, they wanted details, but I’ve always kept details of boys to myself. There was Ryan, sitting on his BMX bike and smiling at me. We’ve had a mutual crush on each other for a couple weeks now. I could still see Camille walking down South Street, I pretended that I couldn’t and I left with Ryan. This was just the beginning of running off with boys who were easy, who were funny, who didn’t challenge me in any way.
The question of the day was “Are you going to see Trophy Scars and The Prime play tonight?” Who did these kids think they were talking to? Of course I was going, I am The Prime’s biggest fan AKA Camille’s biggest fan. My best girlfriends and I adoringly referred to ourselves as the bands best ‘groupies,’ but not the bimbo/attention seeking type. We were so proud that our friends, our best guy friends had made a name for themselves outside of Morristown. They were The Prime from New Jersey; Camille couldn’t go to the mall without being recognized or see teens wearing their logo. Nickie picked me up from my house in her new 2003 two door silver Saturn, it was a big change from her Jeep. For some reason we felt like rockstars in her brand new car, we rolled down the windows and let the summer air pull our hair in every direction. Just graduating high school brought on feelings of maturity mixed with recklessness. Nickie flew down 287 while we both sang along with Saves the Day on the top of our lungs “and please if you’ve got a minute, enjoy this lonely sky with me. It will swallow us whole- if we only let it!”
We pulled up to Bloomfield Ave Café in Montclair and squeezed into the first parking spot we saw, we were already late. It wasn’t Nickie’s fault, I am always late, and especially when I knew I would be seeing Camille. We already had purchase tickets in advance, so we through them on the merch girls table and ran inside. The Prime had already started performing; Camille as usual was sitting behind his drum set furiously pounding away. I pushed my way to the front making it known that was my position. After the first song James the singer talked to the crowd about buying their CD, I took the opportunity to grab Camille’s attention. I pointed my wrist and he nodded, I went to the side of the stage and quickly climbed up. I took of my navy wristband with the red heart and handed it to Camille, he slipped it onto his wrist and resumed drumming. This was our tradition, not sure how it started- but before every performance I
would lend him my wristband. He liked to think of it as a modified ‘wearing your heart on your sleeve’ type concept.
Nickie and I danced around the floor, and rocked out to our favorite band. The last song came to an end and James began to thank the audience for coming, but Camille started hitting his drums some more. The band took his lead and they played one more song, my favorite song “Sweeter Than Sweet.” James was not too fond of this song, but Camille knew I loved it, this silent dedication to me made me feel like a queen. I helped break down his drum set while Trophy Scars took the stage, we rarely had the opportunity to watch bands perform from the floor. We pushed the drums to the side, decided to worry about it later and let ourselves get lost in the crowd. Camille took my hand and looked into my eyes, we both had the dreamy “young and in love” expression across our faces. He told me I was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, and coming from him- I believed it. A month later I left to go to college in CT and he went to school in Philly, I didn’t know what to say to him. He did, he always knows what to say:
August 22, 2003 “Thoughts on the future are, well, the future is easy because it doesn't exist, but the past is hard because it lasts forever."
My brother wasn’t allowed on the plane because his passport expired, even thought the agent my mother spoke to the day before said “It’s no big deal, as long as you get a new one in the next 2 months.” Our family vacation plans changed very quickly, my mom is always on her toes and if things can’t be done her way- well she will find a way. “Jess is there somewhere in the U.S. you have wanted to go?” It didn’t take me long to blurt out California! I had promised Camille that I would go out there and see him, as long as he still considered NJ his home. The thought of CA always made me kind of sick, Los Angeles seems like a horrible place to be. Silicon women, no imperfections, moneymoneymoney. I am very confidant in my character, who I am and what I stand for. But I’m only human, and its tough being a girl and not feel ‘less than’ in the constant and silent competition sometimes. I knew that if I had Camille by my side he would make me feel like the most precious being not just in LA but in the world, he always has.
I arrived in San Diego prepared for ‘family vacation,’ of course I immediately turned my phone on and called Camille. A couple hours later I was [once again] in the car with my dad on my way to the train station. I was so anxious and nervous, having not seen him in months- naturally I was running very late. I had to run into the station, buy my ticket and bolt it to the train. My heart was pounding while I fell into a seat, I barely made it. I took out a box of makeup and began a cycle of painting and then washing my face. I wanted to look perfect, but not too perfect- he says he prefers me with no makeup, but that’s just what boys say. I ended up here I began with my classic look of lined eyes and pouty lips. I sent him a text message asking him to be there to pick me up on time because I’m unfamiliar with LA and honestly scared of that city. I stepped out of the station, took a quick glance at the cars waiting and thank God, there he was, being harassed by a woman telling him that he isn’t allowed to park in a loading zone. I jumped into his car, he took off and the woman scribbled his license plate number on her pad of paper. I bounced in the passenger seat while hugging him, trying not to distract his driving. We were so happy, both with that familiar dreamy look on our faces.
I couldn’t take my eyes off of him, I studied his face, his new tattoos, and the familiar ones. He has a purple lotus flower on his neck, I knew it was his first, but couldn’t remember why he got it. “Why did you get the flower again?” He looked at me, shocked that I didn’t know, he said it was for me. I didn’t understand because the scroll in the middle of it says “The beginning of the end,” a saying that I relate with negativity. Of course I was wrong, he meant that I was his first true love and no matter who came between us, he knew in the end it would be him and I.
Monday, October 1, 2007
essay not coming along too well.
I'm having a really hard time with this essay. I have tried 3 different openings and settings and they all turn out so boring. I'm not even sure I want to write about him anymore, it is sounding so dull. I guess I will post the 3 anyway, I am nowhere near finished or even started for that matter. I'm thinking of changing my subject because this is not working out how I had planned.
I look prettier with my hair down, but I always wear it up, if I show up with it down it will look like I’m trying too hard. Should I wear the same outfit I wore to school? Attempt to make it appear that I didn’t put too much thought into this date? Is this a date? Oh my god I’m going on my first real date! I can’t lie ever since I got home I’ve been playing dress up with my wardrobe and counting the minutes until it was time to go. My dad drove me to the movie theatre and I crossed my fingers just hoping he would be there before I was. We didn’t have cell phones when we were sixteen so I had to take his word for a meeting time and place. Dad pulled up and I smiled with relief to see Camille standing there waiting for me patiently. We saw the movie “Joyride” I have almost no recollection of what the movie is about or who is in it, I just remember him preparing me for the “scary parts.” The movie was less than thrilling so I found it funny that he was looking for an excuse to hold my hand or lean in close to me. My memory jumps to nervously standing in the Morristown green and saying our goodbyes. Camille is a grade older than me, is in a band, and has a mohawk…which all put together meant my dream boy. I was shocked that this cool older guy wanted to take me out, I’ve always been on the quieter side- how did he even notice me? With his hands in his pockets he leaned into me and we kissed. We both took a step back and went our separate ways- quickly, both too nervous to say anything more. To my surprise a group of my friends were on the other side of the park, they wanted details, but I’ve always kept details of boys to myself. There was Ryan, sitting on his BMX bike and smiling at me. We’ve had a mutual crush on each other for a couple weeks now. I could still see Camille walking down South Street, I pretended that I couldn’t and I left with Ryan.
“Oh my God, was that Jackie’s car? I think it was, I bet she saw me. Jess everyone knows your car, she is going to kill me.” I was missing my best friend Jamie who lives in Albany, NY so I planned a last minute roadtrip to go see him. I asked Camille to come along with me, didn’t think his girlfriend would let him off the leash for a moment. I hate that he has to lie to her in order to see me. Whatever Jackie is not my problem, I sort of hoped that she would catch him- then I could have him all to myself. Once we got on the NY State Throughway he relaxed and we were able to be ourselves, laughing/crying because the a/c in my car spits the air directly into your eyes, no matter where you point the vents.
My brother wasn’t allowed on the plane because his passport expired, even thought the agent my mother spoke to the day before said “It’s no big deal, as long as you get a new one in the next 2 months.” Our family vacation plans changed very quickly, my mom is always on her toes and if things can’t be done her way- well she will find a way. “Jess is there somewhere in the U.S. you have wanted to go?” It didn’t take me long to blurt out California! I had promised Camille that I would go out there and see him, as long as he still considered NJ his home. The thought of CA always made me kind of sick, Los Angeles seems like a horrible place to be. Silicon women, no imperfections, moneymoneymoney. I am very confidant in my character, who I am and what I stand for. But I’m only human, and its tough being a girl and not feel ‘less than’ in the constant and silent competition sometimes. I knew that if I had Camille by my side he would make me feel like the most precious being not just in LA but in the world, he always has.
I look prettier with my hair down, but I always wear it up, if I show up with it down it will look like I’m trying too hard. Should I wear the same outfit I wore to school? Attempt to make it appear that I didn’t put too much thought into this date? Is this a date? Oh my god I’m going on my first real date! I can’t lie ever since I got home I’ve been playing dress up with my wardrobe and counting the minutes until it was time to go. My dad drove me to the movie theatre and I crossed my fingers just hoping he would be there before I was. We didn’t have cell phones when we were sixteen so I had to take his word for a meeting time and place. Dad pulled up and I smiled with relief to see Camille standing there waiting for me patiently. We saw the movie “Joyride” I have almost no recollection of what the movie is about or who is in it, I just remember him preparing me for the “scary parts.” The movie was less than thrilling so I found it funny that he was looking for an excuse to hold my hand or lean in close to me. My memory jumps to nervously standing in the Morristown green and saying our goodbyes. Camille is a grade older than me, is in a band, and has a mohawk…which all put together meant my dream boy. I was shocked that this cool older guy wanted to take me out, I’ve always been on the quieter side- how did he even notice me? With his hands in his pockets he leaned into me and we kissed. We both took a step back and went our separate ways- quickly, both too nervous to say anything more. To my surprise a group of my friends were on the other side of the park, they wanted details, but I’ve always kept details of boys to myself. There was Ryan, sitting on his BMX bike and smiling at me. We’ve had a mutual crush on each other for a couple weeks now. I could still see Camille walking down South Street, I pretended that I couldn’t and I left with Ryan.
“Oh my God, was that Jackie’s car? I think it was, I bet she saw me. Jess everyone knows your car, she is going to kill me.” I was missing my best friend Jamie who lives in Albany, NY so I planned a last minute roadtrip to go see him. I asked Camille to come along with me, didn’t think his girlfriend would let him off the leash for a moment. I hate that he has to lie to her in order to see me. Whatever Jackie is not my problem, I sort of hoped that she would catch him- then I could have him all to myself. Once we got on the NY State Throughway he relaxed and we were able to be ourselves, laughing/crying because the a/c in my car spits the air directly into your eyes, no matter where you point the vents.
My brother wasn’t allowed on the plane because his passport expired, even thought the agent my mother spoke to the day before said “It’s no big deal, as long as you get a new one in the next 2 months.” Our family vacation plans changed very quickly, my mom is always on her toes and if things can’t be done her way- well she will find a way. “Jess is there somewhere in the U.S. you have wanted to go?” It didn’t take me long to blurt out California! I had promised Camille that I would go out there and see him, as long as he still considered NJ his home. The thought of CA always made me kind of sick, Los Angeles seems like a horrible place to be. Silicon women, no imperfections, moneymoneymoney. I am very confidant in my character, who I am and what I stand for. But I’m only human, and its tough being a girl and not feel ‘less than’ in the constant and silent competition sometimes. I knew that if I had Camille by my side he would make me feel like the most precious being not just in LA but in the world, he always has.
#2 My Father Always Said by Mimi Schwartz
1. "But everybody's going. It was the wrong argument to make to a man who fled Hitler's Germany because of everybody." (269)
Schwartz's father wanted to raise his daughters with the option to make their own decisions, stand up for themselves if the crowd seemed to be following the wrong path. He wanted them to do so, but within his moral code. Be the stronger person, don't do something just because everyone else is- the typical battle every family with teenagers goes through. Her father brought her to his home town in hopes to raise awareness of the world and to prove that outside of Queens real-life scary events can happen.
2. The essay is told by Schwartz both as a young teenage girl and as a grown woman. Schwarzwald translates to Black Forest [Germany], which bears a strong resemblance to Forest Hills [Queens]; one that she cannot see just yet. When Schwartz flashes forward to re-visiting her father's hometown it shows that she holds an interest in his past- which in the bigger picture is her past as well. She was too young and nieve to fully appreciate her Germany trip as a teen. It appears that as she grew older, she matured and her interest in her family's past became very important to her.
3. Schwartz's interest is growing, her father's stories and experiences in Germany are becoming more real to her. He gives a brief explanation of Kristallnacht and she urges him to continue the story, she is interested in knowing more. She wants to understand why her mother doesn't want to be seen outside of the Temple or why her father won't even enter the Temple.
4. She is making more connections and parallels between her own life and her father's childhood.
"This was his school, he said, and it looked like mine, but P.S. 3 has a paved playground and good swings. This just had dirt." (273) She is asking more questions out of curiosity, thinking it was strange for school children to be seperated according to religion and not age. She is now seeing that events in her father's childhood were not fair, its hard for her to imagine. She wants to hear more from her mother, hear the happy times that her parents spent together while dating in a small town. While her parents open up and share their stories she is opening herself by genuinely listening.
5. The graveyard scene holds close to her heart, her memory of the weather, light, and feel of the cemetary is vivid. She makes it known that she was taking everything in. More and more connections are made, placing rocks on the graves reveals her growing curiosity and sensitivity. Looking at the children's graves reminded her of a sister that passed away before she was born. The reality of death was unsetteling and it made her uncomfortable.
6. Forty years later she is still interested in her father's past and his home in Germany, as an adult she seeks out the true and disturbing facts. Her father returned from their Rindheim trip, realizing where he came from was not as perfect as he had remembered. He was happy to have his family in America and understood the opportunity his girls had, opportunities that he did not have at their age. He embraced NY as his home and knew his family was lucky to be there.
Schwartz recounts her trip to Germany as a teen and interjects moments from her adulthood. Many teenagers are too self centered to realize the hardships in life or their parents lives. Her trip helps to make her father's stories of Rindheim tangible. She opened herself up and made many valuable connections to her life and her fathers. But it is in her adultlife that she is able to come full circle and relate to her father on a more intimate level. One point of this essay is to never take your opportunities for granted. Schwartz realizes she was lucky to grow up in NY with a family that kept her safe. As a child its hard to imagine your life any differently, as a teen on her Germany trip she sees that life could have been very different for her and as an adult she fits all the pieces together.
Schwartz's father wanted to raise his daughters with the option to make their own decisions, stand up for themselves if the crowd seemed to be following the wrong path. He wanted them to do so, but within his moral code. Be the stronger person, don't do something just because everyone else is- the typical battle every family with teenagers goes through. Her father brought her to his home town in hopes to raise awareness of the world and to prove that outside of Queens real-life scary events can happen.
2. The essay is told by Schwartz both as a young teenage girl and as a grown woman. Schwarzwald translates to Black Forest [Germany], which bears a strong resemblance to Forest Hills [Queens]; one that she cannot see just yet. When Schwartz flashes forward to re-visiting her father's hometown it shows that she holds an interest in his past- which in the bigger picture is her past as well. She was too young and nieve to fully appreciate her Germany trip as a teen. It appears that as she grew older, she matured and her interest in her family's past became very important to her.
3. Schwartz's interest is growing, her father's stories and experiences in Germany are becoming more real to her. He gives a brief explanation of Kristallnacht and she urges him to continue the story, she is interested in knowing more. She wants to understand why her mother doesn't want to be seen outside of the Temple or why her father won't even enter the Temple.
4. She is making more connections and parallels between her own life and her father's childhood.
"This was his school, he said, and it looked like mine, but P.S. 3 has a paved playground and good swings. This just had dirt." (273) She is asking more questions out of curiosity, thinking it was strange for school children to be seperated according to religion and not age. She is now seeing that events in her father's childhood were not fair, its hard for her to imagine. She wants to hear more from her mother, hear the happy times that her parents spent together while dating in a small town. While her parents open up and share their stories she is opening herself by genuinely listening.
5. The graveyard scene holds close to her heart, her memory of the weather, light, and feel of the cemetary is vivid. She makes it known that she was taking everything in. More and more connections are made, placing rocks on the graves reveals her growing curiosity and sensitivity. Looking at the children's graves reminded her of a sister that passed away before she was born. The reality of death was unsetteling and it made her uncomfortable.
6. Forty years later she is still interested in her father's past and his home in Germany, as an adult she seeks out the true and disturbing facts. Her father returned from their Rindheim trip, realizing where he came from was not as perfect as he had remembered. He was happy to have his family in America and understood the opportunity his girls had, opportunities that he did not have at their age. He embraced NY as his home and knew his family was lucky to be there.
Schwartz recounts her trip to Germany as a teen and interjects moments from her adulthood. Many teenagers are too self centered to realize the hardships in life or their parents lives. Her trip helps to make her father's stories of Rindheim tangible. She opened herself up and made many valuable connections to her life and her fathers. But it is in her adultlife that she is able to come full circle and relate to her father on a more intimate level. One point of this essay is to never take your opportunities for granted. Schwartz realizes she was lucky to grow up in NY with a family that kept her safe. As a child its hard to imagine your life any differently, as a teen on her Germany trip she sees that life could have been very different for her and as an adult she fits all the pieces together.
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