We slowly crept around the corner, finally sneaking a peek at our cabin. As I hopped out of the front seat of the truck, a sharp sense of loneliness came over me. I looked around and saw nothing but the leaves on the trees glittering from the constant blowing wind. Catching myself standing staring around me at all the beautiful trees, I noticed that the trees have not changed at all, but still stand tall and as close as usual. I realized that the trees surrounding the cabin are similar to the being of my family: the feelings of never being parted when were all together staying at our cabin.
And the thing is, their a normal family, just like any other. They went on trips in the summer, and spring, and this time came back to a message on the lawn. I sat there that day watching cars go by their house as if it were haunted or something. I guess it can happen anywhere. But this snow-covered house is still a reflection of America, white on top with a hatred burning underneath.
Like many small towns go you will find nothing but farmland, buildings that are falling down and old tractors left to rust until they eventually crumble on the ground. Miles of trees and nothingness can make one long to be anywhere but here. If a person adds years of torment, heartbreak and fear it becomes a must in order to not become one of the many statics found in a towns local graveyard. This small town city itself was made up of buildings so perfectly aligned that it often made you feel you were on a movie set in Hollywood. Each building was a different color with an old fashioned theme.
I always thought that I would grow up living in the city, go off to college and then move back into the city. Until, I ran into a man that opened my world into a whole new life. A place that you can go and get away from the real world, a place that is so quiet and peaceful you can hear a pin drop. When I stepped onto the land and into the beautiful house that my boyfriend lives in, I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life here. A city girl meets a country boy that shows her that there is more to life than just being able to run down the street to the grocery store or the mall.
I know it because I am living this kind of life. In other words, I do not get along with my neighbors. From the day I moved into my house, I have had to deal with their unfriendly, dirty, and noisy way of living. First of all, my neighbors are very unfriendly people, and that is why they are hated. For example, during the day when I see them, they do not say hello to me.
The role of our schools is to give an education to children and get them ready for lives as adults. As with many other aspects of our society today, our school systems have issues that make this goal hard to accomplish. These issues range from the small, such as the cafeteria food being disgusting, to big problems, like no respect between teachers and students. One problem not completely looked at in depth is fear. Fear is in our lives everyday; from being scared of a little spider, to being scared of having no one to sit with at the lunch table.
(More, 2011) When Moore talks about Utopia he says that the island is formed in a crescent shape. Which makes me think that every county or state is not shaped perfectly, they have their own shape to make them different and to stand out from the rest. It talks about how they don’t have private property which means anyone can come in to their house at any time of the day. We live in a society where you lock your doors every time you can leave the house. I couldn’t imagine a strange just walking in my house while I was watching TV.
Most of my family lives in Connecticut and Massachusetts and I’m the only one who lives on the West Coast. A big difference is that the neighborhood in Connecticut has houses that are more spaced out, have larger lawns, and very many more trees. There are very few apartments there, unlike where I live now where my entire street is almost all apartment buildings. None of the buildings on the street that I live on here in California have very big lawns, which contrasts dramatically with my old neighborhood because back in Connecticut most houses have almost an acre of land per house. There are multiple trees on my moms property and the backyard is basically up against a forest.
No longer would we be returning to the four-story walk up I inhabited for the majority of my young life. Instead of the pavement surrounding my former building, the final turn of our seemingly endless journey revealed the sprawling grass expanse of a baseball field directly across from an unfamiliar driveway sloping in front of the red brick walls that eventually came to be know as home. My childhood was a playground for imagination. Joyous nights were spent surrounded by family at my home in Brooklyn, NY. The constantly shaded red bricks of my family’s unattached town house located on West Street in Gravesend, a mere hop away from the beach and a short walk to the commotion of Brooklyn’s various commercial areas.
The Grape family lives in Endora, Iowa, ghost town, where they farmed, run down, old and rural community. Demographically, the grape family lives in a small town of a population of 2000 people. The community is very much close up together, everyone is familiar with each other within the town, it is also known to be a town of where, displacement do not occur. When individuals moved to the city, they family gets established for a longer period of time. People stayed there and did not leave when they grow up.