She is my Hero Stepping out of the clinic into the broad daylight, tears ran down her face. She had actually done it. She had an abortion. She climbed into the back seat of the family station wagon and listened to the silence. What had she done? When most girls write about their mothers they talk about how wonderful of a childhood they had being raised by such a great woman. They talk about her accomplishments and how they want to grow up and be just like her. They talk about the soup sick babble that every "perfect" family has to offer. When I write about my mother, I speak of the pain, the fears, the learning and the salvation. My Mother has been a great inspiration to me. She is my hero. Not because of the wonderful things she has done. Not because of the marvelous childhood I was given and certainly not because of her upbringing. My Mother is my hero because she was led down a path of destruction, but with God's grace and mercy she was pulled from her perils; and blessed. As the youngest of five children she was often overlooked. The pride of the family often overrode the opportunity to receive health care, handouts and a decent chance to become something. My mother spent her childhood in a tiny house with her family and many relatives. She was never given the opportunities to excel in learning and life like my generation has. My grandfather was a carpenter and on that living fed many hungry mouths. But despite this already unfortunate lifestyle my mother maintained good grades and was on a path to overcoming her misfortune. When she was sixteen, my mother met and got pregnant by a boy that she attended school with. Ashamed and spiritually broken she gave into to her parents pleading to have an abortion. As time passed she grew older and wiser. She graduated high school and began working several jobs. Attending college was never a thought in her mind. She married young and moved on with her life. Eventually she became pregnant again, but this time she was ready. By now God had strengthened her life. She believed in him and sought is will. She had been given a second chance. To this day my mother is a strong and charismatic woman, full of God's love and joy for life.
Sweat dripping down my face and butterflies fluttering around my stomach as if it was the Garden of Eden, I took in a deep breathe and asked myself: "Why am I so nervous? After all, it is just the most exciting day of my life." When the judges announced for the Parsippany Hills High School Marching Band to commence its show, my mind blanked out and I was on the verge of losing sanity. Giant's Stadium engulfed me, and as I pointed my instrument up to the judges' stand, I gathered my thoughts and placed my mouth into the ice-cold mouthpiece of the contrabass. "Ready or not," I beamed, "here comes the best show you will ever behold." There is no word to describe the feeling I obtain through music. However, there is no word to describe the pain I suffer through in order to be the best in the band either. When I switched my instrument to tuba from flute in seventh grade, little did I know the difference it would make in the four years of high school I was soon to experience. I joined marching band in ninth grade as my ongoing love for music waxed. When my instructor placed the 30 lb. sousaphone on my shoulder on the first day, I lost my balance and would have fallen had my friends not made the effort to catch me. During practices, I always attempted to ease the discomfort as the sousaphone cut through my collar bone, but eventually my shoulder started to agonize and bleed under the pressure. My endurance and my effort to play the best show without complaining about the weight paid off when I received the award for "Rookie of the Year." For the next three seasons of band practice, the ache and toil continued. Whenever the band had practice, followed by a football game and then a competition, my brain would blur from fatigue and my body would scream in agony. Nevertheless, I pointed my toes high in the air as I marched on, passionate about the activity. As a result, my band instructor saw my drive toward music and I was named Quartermaster for my junior year, being trusted with organizing, distributing, and collecting uniforms for all seventy-five members of the band. The responsibility was tremendous. It took a bulk of my time, but the sentiment of knowing that I was an important part of band made it all worthwhile.
In this paper I will first explain the history of NATO and the United States policy towards it. I will then give three reasonable policy recommendations for the United States towards NATO. This is important because NATO is an organization with a very brief history but it has molded Europe and other countries and has made a safe-haven from war for the past five decades. NATO was spawn out of the Western countries of Europe fearing the expansion of the greedy, hungry Stalin of the Soviet Union which would directly lead to the expansion of communist governments. Also, “in 1949 most of the states of Europe were still enfeebled by wartime devastation, striving for economic recovery, attempting to reestablish shattered political institutions, resettle refugees and recover from the second major upheaval in 30 years.”1 After the second world war Stalin, of the Soviet Union, started to spread his communist government to many Eastern European countries fast. Just a couple years before all of this an alliance was made between many nations called The United Nations. This is where the base idea of NATO came out of. There is a particular article in the United Nation’s charter, article 51, which paved the way. Article 51 read: Nothing in the present charter shall impair the inherent right of individual or collective self-defense if an armed attack occurs against a member of the United Nations, until the security council has taken measures necessary to maintain international peace and security. Measures taken by Members in the exercise of this right of self-defense shall be immediately reported to the Security Council and shall not in any way affect the authority and responsibility of the Security Council under the present Charter to take at any time such action as it deems necessary in order to maintain or restore international peace and security.2 So, armed with this article, ten European countries turned to the United States and Canada to draft a pledge of mutual security and on April 4, 1949, they all met in Washington to sign the North Atlantic Treaty. The fear that created this alliance could not better be seen than in Winston Churchill’s, prime minister of Great Britain, telegram to President Truman saying: “An iron curtain is being drawn down upon their(Soviet Union) front. We do not know what is going on ...
Writing a self-reflective tirade is perhaps one of the most difficult tasks to perform. I have found myself pondering this topic for an unusually long time; no one has ever asked me to write about my culture-- the one thing about myself which I understand the least. This question which is so easy for others to answer often leads me into a series of convoluted explanations, "I was born in the U.S., but lived in Pakistan since I was six. My brothers moved to the US when I was thirteen" I am now nearly twenty, which means I have spent half my life being Pakistani, the other half trying to be American, or is the other way around?
When I wake up to the ear-splitting sound of my alarm clock, and blindly search for the snooze button, a sudden thought dawns: "What am I doing?"
Impeachment starts with the House of Representatives. This House can “impeach, or vote to bring charges of serious crimes against, a president”(Holt McDougal). Once the House of Representative concludes their wishes to impeach the president, they have to inform the House Judiciary Committee. The House Judiciary Committee then decides if the president as actually done something wrong. Next, the impeachment moves to the Full House who votes to launch a formal impeachment inquiry. Then, the House Judiciary Committee investigates the allegations. The evidence that they find are called articles. Once they finish investigating, the Judiciary Committee votes on which articles will be sent to the Full House for review. The articles are then sent to the House of Representatives who vote on which articles will be presented at the trial. Once at least one article is approved, the president is formally and officially impeached. The case then moves to the Senate who appoints members of congress as the prosecutors. (The president can choose any lawyers he wishes). The trial is held in front of the Senate who pose as the jury. The Chief Justice poses as the judge. After the trial is over, the Senate decides whether or not to convict the president. At least two-thirds or 67 of the Senators must vote the president guilty for that to be the final verdict. If the president is found guilty of the charges, then he is removed
The North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) is one of the world’s leading major international organizations. It is both a political and military Alliance of 28 member countries from Europe and North America. The Alliance takes all its decisions by consensus – every member country, regardless of size, has an even say in deliberations and decisions. Each member state is to be dedicated to individual liberty, democracy, human rights and the rule of law. These ideals are at the heart of NATO’s transatlantic bond. Because it is a collective defense with all of NATO’s territories and populations, as set out in the Washington Treaty, an attack on one would be considered to be an attack on all. I propose that the United States remains apart of NATO because of our credibility as a nation to help our allies when they are in need.
I have always grown up around the influence of hard work. My mother and father’s life together began off to a rough start. My mother got pregnant at the age of 20 with my brother. Her family was not very supportive of it; therefore, she was on her own. She used to tell me about how she would sit and cry in a one bedroom apartment that she lived in with my brother wondering what she was going to do. Although she had to grow up faster than she
While many may suspect that the ruthless and tyrannical leader of Germany had a damaging upbringing, the opposite is the truth. Adolf Hitler was a child that was immersed in love and affection and in reality, spoiled by his mother, Klara Polzl who lost all three of her children prior to Adolf’s birth to childhood diseases. Hitler adored his mother and gave his father the uttermost respect. As a child he had a normal upbringing and was actually considered to be a good and intelligent student. However, as a teenager, between the ages of fifteen to nineteen, one of his friends August Kubizek, described him to be a “shy, insecure young man who hid his insecurities behind a façade of self-confidence that bordered on arrogance” (Crowe, 82). August
At this moment when I am sitting down here writing this, I suddenly think of this time last year when I was fresh out of high school, hearing about Berea for the first time. I sent my application to Berea with lots of confidence and hope, and I knew I was not accepted. College to me, as much as to many others, is so important. At the time I heard the news of my being denied, I was disappointed, but soon I realized that my failure was just among the many challenges that anybody has to face during their lifetime. Further more, I happened to know, later on, about the two other Vietnamese who were accepted. Having known that hardly ever more than one student from each country is accepted to Berea, I was so proud to know that the ability of Vietnamese students has been recognized and that, despite of the fact that our country still faces many difficulties, the students have been trying to reach high goals.
In her childhood, my mom grew up in a poor family in the projects located in Hoboken, New Jersey. Her family didn’t have much money and they only relied on my late grandpa to earn money by driving taxis. When my mom was in high school, she got her first job working as a secretary in the Hoboken City Hall, but during that time her older brother, Bobby, passed away from AIDS, and later in 2001 both of her parents, Carol Ann and Robert died from smoking problems. Even though these circumstances were hard on her in her life, she managed to do great things like going to Palmer College
In High School, college seemed to be the scariest thing that I could think of. Whenever I thought about it my stomach would immediately begin to spin in circles. Although I was ready to go off and be by myself and meet new people I was scared to death at the same time. I didn't know much about the "college experience" and what I did know (or thought I knew) scared me. I pictured hard classes that I wouldn't be able to keep up with, people that wouldn't like me, long hikes to get to my classes, and horrible food. I couldn't imagine leaving the security of my own room, my own stuff where I want it, my friends that I've spent practically my whole life with, my family who put up with all my little quirks, and my car!! What was I going to do without my precious car? Some of my friends that had already been to college and had come back to visit seemed so much older and more mature. I felt twelve years old in comparison. I thought that I would never be able to fit in. Everyone else that I talked to didn't however seem to have this problem. They all were thrilled at the thought of being on their own and not having to worry about their parents telling them what to do all the time. And sure, the thought was extremely exciting to me as well, but how would I survive without my family and friends and the things that had taken me eighteen years to get used to. I felt like going to college was pretty much taking everything that I knew and had grown accustomed to and throwing it up in the air. The worst part about it all was that I felt like I was the only one that actually thought about this. I felt so immature and childish for actually being scared to come to college. After I thought I wouldn't be able to take the pressures anymore, I decided to approach my mom about the subject. I told her that I was a little scared and the thought of being on my own made me a little uneasy.
My mother is my hero because she has taught me to treat others with compassion, thoughtfulness, and generosity. She taught me that those values were important in the best way, by living her own life according to them. She didn’t just tell me about values she felt were important, she lived by them. I have always admired my mother and felt so blessed to have her in my life. I know I am a better person for having her for a mother.
Also, she has always been a good friend to me and I will never stop thanking my mother for what she represents in my life. Moreover, I am glad that my mother is my role model because without her in that place I don’t know for sure if the person I would have followed would be as good as she is in fulfilling this task. A good role model is what everyone should have
...mportant person in my life and I know that she will be always there for me with help, her love, and her care. She’s a wonderful person, she admires the beauty of life, and as a result she is always in a good mood. Now, like my mother, I’m a positive thinker, and I am a creative person who believes life is what you create it to be. I also know if I have to make any big decisions in my life, I can always ask my mom for advice because she has the wisdom and experience. I also know that she will tell me the truth even if it is not something that I want to hear, but she will tell me with kindness and without any judgment. My mother is my role model because she does so much for me; she gives me everything she has just to make my life easier. I love my mother and I am so thankful that she is the way she is. My mother is always there for me and I would do anything for her.
My Mother - The Greatest Inspiration in My Life When asked who their hero is, most people respond with the name of an athlete or an actress/actor. When asked who my hero is, I would have to respond with a simple three letter word: mom. My mother has been the greatest inspiration in my life and is the main reason that I am where I am and who I am today. Born and raised in Richmond, Kentucky, I would like to introduce you to my mother, Vicki Grant. Currently the age of 47, Mom is the oldest of three girls.