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descriptive essay writing
descriptive writing essays
descriptive essay writing
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The Interesting Bus Ride Home
When most people think about an eventful or memorable place, they almost certainly would not picture a bus. As we all know, buses are not exactly attractive. The design scheme is the same in almost every bus: rows and rows of brown seats, a thin black aisle down the middle of the bus, hundreds of hazy windows, and the big, lemon-yellow exterior. Not many people, I am sure, would consider buses to be an important part of their lives. However, if a person were to think about it, they would realize that they probably have had at least one memorable experience in their life that took place on a bus.
One of the most memorable bus experiences in my life happened when I was in fifth grade. The final bell at school had rung, so I sprinted out to the bus with a few of my friends to save seats since our bus was always crowded. After we flung our backpacks into the four back seats, we ran back inside the school to buy some Mountain Dew from the pop machine in the cafeteria. After jamming our quarters into the machine and snatching the cans out of the bin, we sprinted back outside to make sure we did not miss the bus. It was still there, in all its yellow glory, so we hurried through the doors and onto the bus.
It had been wet and cloudy since that morning--a typical Oregon day--and as I made my way to the back of the bus, the faint smell of rain mingled with the rubbery-plastic smell of hundreds of little rain boots. When I finally got to my seat, I was rather unnerved to find that not only was someone sitting in my seat, but that that someone was none other than Nathaniel Larson, the most obnoxious kid in the 5th grade. I took a deep breath and said, in the kindest voice I could muster, "Nathan, you...
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...int was chipped on the outside, and on the inside the chairs had holes and writing all over them. Oddly, though, this bus smelled slightly of paint, which was a huge contrast to its shabby condition. But to us, this dingy yellow vessel was beautiful; it was warm, and it would take us home.
This old/new bus continued our route, and we all sat quietly, awaiting our stops. Everyone had a tired, almost forlorn look, as though they had been through much more than just switching buses. I did not have any concept of time as the bus chugged along, stopping occasionally to let people off, and all of a sudden I recognized that it was almost to my stop. I jerked out of the stupor I was in as the bus stopped in front of my apartment complex. As I gathered up my things to leave, I looked at my friends and said, "Well, this will make one interesting story at school tomorrow!"
Every school bus has a hierarchy, a caste system. The cool crowd the kids who smoke, come to class with hickies, and get into enough trouble to be the secret envy of the honor roll students occupies the back rows. The cheerleaders and star athletes take the middle seats. The serious students sit near the front. The nerds and the outcasts never know where they'll end up. If they're lucky, they can find an empty seat directly behind or to the right of the driver. (8)
...ing little room for imagination. It shows the negative effects that people will go through when under the thumb of society, it shows the importance of each, individual person being equal despite their variance. The Short Bus, is an important mark in Human Rights history; it is important because it accounts for people, people who have had very little representation prior and people who can now begin believing that their disability isn’t the end of who they are and can become. In relation to Human Rights, this is just another violation to peoples basic life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness that has guided this country for many years; it is a discrimination that needs to end and a discrimination that almost everyone has participated in at one point in their life.
I stood there thinking for a long time. I saw all the busses come and go. Then in the distance, I saw the bus I had become so familiar with coming back.
The reaction and effectiveness of this poster might have been different in today’s society because Americans take full advantage of carpooling. The creation of Uber and Lyft are methods Americans use to carpool. This poster marked the beginning of a new tradition in American culture. Carpooling since 1945 has been a method to save gas and money. Overall during my analysis, I was able to put myself in the mindset of an American citizen during this time period. In today’s society, this poster would be effective to Americans including myself because we actually take advantage of carpooling in our daily
As I walked to school with my lunch that was in a plastic bag. Once we got into school and got in the building my teacher Mr. Williams took attendance and five minutes later we turned around and got on the bus. It was windy and there were leaves blowing all over the place. Last year my 5th grade at John Stewart elementary school was going to Leroy Oakes in St. Charles for team building. It was a fall day and it was chilly. I had my drawstring on my back with my lunch and had three coats on. We turned onto a road called Dean Street and it was bordered by grass. I saw the Leroy Oaks sign, and my bus went over a speed bump that threw my class off balance. After awhile my class off the bus with a skip and a jump in my step. Then I was super excited that our
For decades organ transplants have saved the lives of countless patients in need. However, over time, the gap between the supply and demand of donated organs has alarmingly widened. The shortage of altruistic donors raises the argument of whether the United States government should legalize commercial transplantation. Ethical discussions exhibit polarized debates of the topic, however, to efficiently save money and lives, the selling of organs should be legal.
The car ride was awkward as all hell. Cheyenne blabbered and yelled in the back, demanding that this was kidnapping and that she was going to call 911.
The air would always be humid and stuffy while riding the bus to school, and the slightest bump in the road would result in tossing up the kids like salad. The backseat would provide carriage for all the popular and tough kids shouting out at pedestrians on the street or flipping off a middle finger to the bus driver that would shout for them to calm down. I despised those kids in the back. They were the same people that made my life a living hell, while growing up and attending an American school.
Clinical depression is very common. Over nine million Americans are diagnosed with clinical depression at some point in their lives. Many more people suffer from clinical depression because they do not seek treatment. They may feel that depression is a personal weakness, or try to cope with their symptoms alone. On the other hand, some people are comfortable with admitting their symptoms and seeking help. Such a discrepancy may account for the differences in reported cases of depression between men and women, which indicate that more than twice the numbers of women than men are clinically depressed. According to the numbers of reported cases of depression, 25% of women and 10% of men will have one or more episodes of clinical depression during their lifetimes.
The sun is making its way up the horizon, but has not yet filled the sky with its cheerful rays. We exit the bus and immediately turned into statues. We stood next the flag pole staring at the school entrance. “This is going to be okay. This is going to be okay” I mumbled to myself. I wanted to enter, nonetheless, gravity glued my feet down to the cold concrete ground. My hands started sweating through my thin-knitted pink sweater and tears were about to roll off my eyes. Shortly after, I saw a shadow of a tall woman approaching us from the school’s front door. My heart beats like a drum as she carefully making her way toward us like you would when you proceed a scared puppy. She stood about four feet away from us making sure she’s not invading our comfort zone. She knelt down and shows us her school staff ID card while holding her buzzing walkie talkie on the other hand. She then ask for our names and walked us one by one to our classrooms. I remember it was so early that I had to sit in front of my class waiting for my teacher to
McGrath, E. C., McGonagle, K.A., Zhao, S., Nelson, C.B., Hughes, M., Eshleman, S., Wittchen, H-U., & Kendler, K.S.(2007).Lifetime and 12-month prevalence of DSM-III-R psychiatric disorders in the United States: Results from the National Comorbidity Survey. Archives of General Psychiatry, 51, 3-14.
Not only did I have to undergo the attention as the “new” kid, but I also had to brave the worst beast of all time...The Bus. Ahhh, The Bus. Created for the purpose of transporting children to and from school, it has evolved over time to become the monstrosity that it is today. This vehicle of crushed dreams was my vessel to the faraway place that would chew me up and spit me out. It pulled into my driveway with an ominous screech, black smoke billowing out which shifted to form the faces of all the poor, unfortunate souls
Moving weekend. These two words have defined my life several times since my pilgrimage to Colorado. My first few years here were chaotic, unknown, and completely spontaneous. For someone who likes control, a concrete plan at least two weeks in advance, and a generous helping of consistent routine, my first days, weeks, years, where I was but a nomadic, semi-"homeless" wanderer were met with the most challenging and illuminating moments I have yet encountered.
The contrasts I see through the windows of the train are disturbing. It is not disturbing in the sense that it is gross or vomit-inducing, simply disturbing to think about. It disturbs and disrupts the impressions you hold of the people living in poor minority communities and predominantly wealthy, white communities when you see them placed beside one another. The buildings change, dilapidated and old to historic and old. The people change, their hair getting lighter, as their skin got lighter. And while I get on the bus with people who look like me, I usually get off the bus with people who look at me. I’ve gotten used to it though. The corollary of it all had become a part of my life and my everyday. My mom hated my school for the reasons
This critical situation is considerable necessary in need to be address to make a difference in people lives around the world. A breakthrough the source of demand is greatly needed to guarantee individuals to save the lives or progress in receiving the benefits of the transplant (Hyde, Wihardjo, & White, 2012). Awareness is a must, it engages people about organ donation and addresses their concerns. The fact of the matter are organs are useless once we passed away, to make an enormous impact on others around us we have to take that step and become organ donors we have nothing to lose but to gain a person life. Therefore, it is necessary to look beyond all myths that is implemented in today’s society, organ donation is very much imperative in today’s community not just know but as well as in the