David Dale
Professor Rogers
English 1A
9/11/12
Surviving a Road trip
I could never decide whether T-shirts and shorts should go into my duffel bag first, or boxers. It’s one of those odd thoughts I get every time I have to take these family trips, I pack my clothes the night before and say my goodbyes to the comfortable bed I’m surely going to miss. A kind of depression sets in that only those of my generation and the even younger crowd would know, that begins with the question “What am I going to do with no computer, no friends, and no internet for the next three days?” I awoke to an alarm that morning, and remained in bed until the sound was strangling my sanity. I thought to myself, “damn it” and flung my arm out to my right to try to hit the correct button and turn off that damn alarm. Unfortunately life isn’t fair, and a few seconds later, I rose up out of bed and decided to spend a few calories of energy to turn it off correctly. After staring at the wall for some small length of time I slowly rose to my feet and decided to wash up. After quick shave, shower, and a double check of all my belongings I packed into my blue duffel bag the night before, I threw my baggage into the back of the truck that was parked outside the house. I stood outside admiring the dark blue sky, how the sun lights up the horizon just a bit so it casts a blue hue upon everything you look at. Everything is so fresh, crisp, and cold, I entered that half-awake, half-asleep mindset for a moment, but all good things end, and so the next moment was the jolting feeling from my father putting a handful of ice cubes down my shirt, jumping back and laughing “Wake up! You’re still asleep!”. After emptying my shirt of ice, and feeling that I was melting like one of the Nazis from the end of the Indiana Jones movie “Raiders of the Lost Ark”, I shrugged off the annoyance and sat in the cold truck. If there’s one virtue I have when it comes to road trips, its that I have no problem sleeping, even if my face is smooched against a cold glass window, amusing passing drivers. We left town, and I awoke with neck pain about twenty minutes from Red Bluff, looking outside to fields of yellow, and recognizing that smell of manure from all the farms you get around that area. With all of the boring scenery that accompanied the moment, I couldn’t help but to fall back into a slumber. My sleep didn’t last long, we reached Redding and there was no returning to sleep, I watched the hills of grass become pine trees just before we arrived, it was no surprise, I pass by every year. To my attention however, came the realization that Redding had become quite a cozy, it was large enough to enjoy, but not be a hassle to maneuver. I thought to myself “maybe this wouldn’t be a bad place to live”. It was not as old and boring as I remembered, usually we pass through and continue to trinity lake, however this time we drove around a bit and were going to a different destination. There was quite a bit of new development, and an olive garden, which my father decided was where our lunch would be taken. There is nothing special about an olive garden restaurant, however I was pleased that we sat next to another family that was apparently Italian. I spent most of the time listening to the language of the Italians rather than paying attention to my family’s conversations about work. We left satisfied, and continued on the highway towards Oregon, which was lined with farmland, but unlike the valley farmland, was green and was surrounded by mountains. Green grass, mountains, and cooler weather was a godsend since I can’t tolerate hot summers. Driving through the countryside, it became the late evening, and the scenery became dark orange, then eventually black. We came across a Motel 6 during the night, and I was reminded why I thought motels were absolutely boring. I walked to my room and swiped my card, and set the air conditioner to the coldest setting. I figured that since they are going to charge an arm and a leg for a room I might as well make it worthwhile. I walked over to adjust the knob only to find that it doesn’t work, my only option was going to be a cold shower, followed by a series of boring TV channels that were enough to force me to get some sleep for the next day. Wake up calls actually work, the phone rang, I answered, and I was awake at eight in the morning, with no coffee to be found. I walked like a zombie to the shower and prepared for another day. I walked out to the truck to meet my family. We signed out after talking to each other about how well we slept that night, and threw our bags in the back of the truck. Finally, the purpose of the entire trip was only a couple of hours away. Crater lake was somewhere off in the distance through more of the thick forest. The trip continued until we hit Oregon, we slowly began driving into a thick forest with green foliage everywhere, quite different from the forests I’ve been to in California, that are somewhat sparse and have lots of exposed soil. Here, the forest floor was covered with lush greenery. Surrounded by trees and entertained by music I brought with me, I absorbed the mood and lost some of the cynicism I had at the beginning of the trip. We stopped at a building with crater lake information, the kind that wants you to buy items like crater lake info books and toys for children. We left a few minutes later and headed up the side of a mountain to the lake. It was a winding road that slowly climbed the side of a mountain. I caught a glimpse of a nice log building with a copper colored roof, and then a loud parking lot swarming with people. After a short time we managed to find a parking spot and walked over to the lodge, seen a sign directing us to a place to view the lake and followed it. The lake was located in the center of a ring of mountains, and was a deep blue that impressed me more than Lake Tahoe. Towards the edge of the lake’s shore closest to our location, the water slowly became a light blue ring that could be seen almost entirely around the edge of the lake. The circle of mountains that contained the lake was huge, it was an amazing sight, and coupled with the sound of a smooth, cool breeze, it was a memorable moment. We admired the view and walked along a trail full of loud tourists. A family caught my attention, speaking German, with a small boy guessing at how deep the lake could be, as his father directed him towards the information building we were walking to. The information center was small, crowded and very noisy, but had a nice cozy feeling to it. What I found interesting, was that absolutely nothing is allowed in the lake except for scientific research, and very few boat tours, in an attempt to keep the lake pure. We looked at everything we could, took plenty of pictures, then left to go back home. We took a different route from before, and turned west to drive down the coast with the plan to spend a day in the city Eureka, to enjoy some cool weather and the beach. By this time, I was sick of listening to my music, and joined the rest of my family’s conversations. Surprisingly time went by fast, and we reached Eureka on a nice cool overcast day in the evening. After stopping at yet another motel and checking in, we left to go eat at a Marie Calendar’s restaurant. As we parked I noticed a large rock fountain outside the restaurant, made of a few boulders somehow stuck together to make a waterfall. Inside we managed to sit next to a window right next to it. It was here that I experienced the worst server in my whole life, an hour of waiting just to get something to drink, losing my fathers order, and a long wait to get the check that in the end, which was brought by another server after we asked to retrieve it. Luckily, I had a common grievance with my family that supplied a good conversation, and a couple of birds to watch taking a bath at the top of the large rock fountain. After the restaurant experience, we retired to the motel until the next morning. I awoke and got ready for the long drive back home, but before leaving on the long uneventful drive back to woodland, we stopped by a small beach south of eureka. Nobody was on the beach, except for a few sea lions playing right off of the coarse pebble beach we were standing on. We watched them swim around, and dive for whatever food they were searching for, carefree about the world around them. I took a few photos of some brown and blue starfish stuck to the side of some big boulders, with my feet freezing from the cold water, I rushed back on shore in triumph. We all relaxed and watched the waves splash against giant rocks, and the birds that were trying to avoid getting wet from them. I walked over to a cliff to watch a small stream of water that made its way down the beach and into the ocean, admiring it closely, I was pushed into it from behind. Again, my father mischievous behavior resulted in amusement for the family, only this time I didn’t mind it being at my expense, and laughed with everyone. We soon left the beach and continued home, getting back to the house just before dark. Everyone was tired, but sat down for a family dinner and talked about our experiences and what we should do for our next trip.
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Rojas
English 1A
September 24, 2012
Never Count On Anyone
Many Mexican women depend on the provider and they are stay at home moms. The provider is the man of the house that gets to do anything they please. My mother always told me stories about our past life in Mexico. Never did she waste her time telling me a story without a meaning to my life.
Grabbing my hot chocolate and my chocolate chip cookies at the table my mom stared to say, “Never count on a man.” I was pregnant with my last child. She went on saying she was going to be a girl the last child from the family. She picked out her name Paola Yunuen. Seven months pregnant she had many things to do at the house and out.
Waking up at five in the morning was no first thing. She would walk a mile where she went to get fresh made corn tortillas and graved a bag of beans. She would carry them back home so she could make breakfast for papa. Papa would leave to work and my mom would stay home and wash our dippers by hand due that they were made of leather.
She would take us to her parent’s house; there her sister would help my mom take care of me and my other sisters. We couldn’t stay much time there because my mom had to go back home to make dinner for dad. My dad would come back home a certain time and the food had to be ready.
Whenever he got home he would bring us the food we needed or utilities my mom had asked for. After he finished eating he would walk around the corner where my grandparents lived. There he would meet some friends and his bothers to drink beer. It was an everyday thing, every time my mom needed something she knew where dad was.
He would bring home whatever my mom had asked for but the only problem was that he would take his time. My mom always had to argue with my dad about him always taking his time.
It was a dark night where the only thing you could see was a candle from the living room that brighten a small portion of the room. Contractions started to kick in one hour apart, than it went down to 30 minutes. The dog started to bark, the rooster started to sing, and the bird that always stayed up on the tree to sing to us every night wasn’t there. It was time to go to the hospital and my mom waited for my dad to come soon. His parent’s house was next door so there was no way he would take long.
The time was ticking and there were no shadow of my dad. My oldest sister ran to tell my dad to hurry up and come home. Of course he was drinking beer with his friends. After a while he got home and took us to my grandparent’s house and then took mom to the hospital.
The hospital was ten minutes away so that was a long drive for my mom and her pain. They got to the hospital and my mom was ready to push. She pushed and the baby was born.
Paola Yunuen was born and my mom finally felt that relief. She got to sleep that night at the hospital. Next morning she opened her eyes and saw no baby in the room. She started to panic and was asking “where was Paola?” “The doctors had token her away to run some test to the baby” my dad told my mom.
After minutes the doctors came back and my mom got to carry the baby. She carried the baby with such delicate such a docile little girl. She had big black eyes, paper thin hands, and nice red shape lips. She was beautiful and the million dollar smile she had was unforgettable.
Because everything look good my mom was release the second day from the hospital. She got home and everyone receive her at the house. Everyone got to see the baby and spend the day at the house. Next morning was a mission.
Paola started to throw up and had none stop diarrhea. Without thinking my parents rush to the hospital. There they took her in as soon as they arrive. My mom couldn’t be in with the baby but the doctors said they would really take care of her really good. The clock was ticking and the doctors wouldn’t have any news for my parents. The minutes pass like hours and it seem like a day had pass. My dad was eating his finger nails and my mom was getting dizzy from walking back and forth, finally there was news. The doctor said they couldn’t figure out what was going on with Paola, which it was going take more time.
For some reason the doctors in Mexico call the priest when they know something bad is about to happen. The priest walked in the hospital and my mom stared at him with a look of hope. She was hoping the priest wouldn’t be dealing with Paola. Finally they let my parents in the room where Paola was. She was hooked up with lots of machines that were keeping her alive. She would open those black eyes and would smile. Such an innocent child didn’t know what was going on. She kept smiling and wouldn’t stop smiling but her eyes were close. The machines started to work harder the sound was going louder. My mom crying hysterically knew what was coming. The doctors rushed to see the baby pause and looked at my dad than hugged that hysterical mom.
She was gone, Paola Yunuen had passed away with such a smile that my mom still can’t forget. The priest came in and gave her a last good bye.
The doctors finally got to conclusions why she was so sick. My mom took a long time to get to the hospital the day she was having Paola. The baby had eaten something from my mom’s stomach.
Vacation
Maribel Castro
English 1A
September 25, 2012
Professor Rogers
My Vacations
Many years ago, when I was about to turn
eighteen years old, my family and I decided to make a trip to the beautiful
city of Guanajuato in Mexico. The plan was to spend a good summer vacation while
we visited our relatives. At that time, my two little sisters Carina and Teresa
were about to turn fifteen years old. In our Mexican culture turning fifteen is
a big deal therefore, we have a tradition were we celebrate what is believed to
be the transition or step that a girl takes to become a woman. For example, it
is similar to when a girl here in America turns sixteen years old and has what
we call a “sweet sixteen" but instead we celebrate it a year earlier and
instead we call it a "Quinceanera". Knowing that my sister's
birthdays were approaching, my parents decided to celebrate their fifteenth
birthday party together. We wanted to take advantage of the trip and do as much
as we could to have a good time, so we decided to have the big party there.
When we planned our trip to Mexico we had in mind celebrating Christmas and New
Year there as well as to have the party in between those holidays. We were all excited
about our plans, especially because our tradition and the celebration we have
when a girl turns fifteen and that as Latinos we share. My parents said that
this tradition is unique and very special in a young lady's life. It only
happens once in our life and we have to enjoy it to the fullest. Time went by
and the date was only getting closer. Finally, the day arrived; it was in
December of two thousand and eight when we flew to Mexico. The date for the fifteen
birthday party celebration was finally here and we were working hard to make
sure that everything came out perfect. However, nobody expected what would have
happened and how everything would end up in the party.
On December of
two-thousand and eight, my two younger sisters were ready for one of the most
important days of their lives. It was the day when my family and I decided to
have a really big fifteenth birthday party for my sisters in the beautiful town
called San Juan de la Puerta in the city of Guanajuato, Mexico. We worked hard
to make this celebration possible. We were expecting the best from this memorable
day for my sisters and family. Having in mind that a fifteen celebration is
like I mentioned earlier, an old Latino ritual that represents the change of a
girl into becoming a lady. It was something that made my parents proud of their
daughters. Furthermore, this celebration, in the Latino culture expresses the
maturity and the beginning of a new stage of the girl‘s lives. On the other
hand, I was sad to see that my sisters were not those little girls that I used
to play with anymore. They were about to become two beautiful ladies and once
again the proud of my family. My sisters and I are the only children therefore,
my dad very protective of us. During this celebration not only my sisters took
a step but I felt like I did as well. I felt that I was becoming like my dad in
the way that I cared about my sisters’ futures and the relationships that they
will be engaged in later in their lives. A couple of days before the celebration,
I was supervising, helping and making sure that everything was ready for the
"big day". We celebrated Christmas and two days later we were ready
for the big day. The date was already here, and we couldn’t have been more
ready and excited.
I remember that
day I woke up early in the morning; I was feeling great and I was in a very good
mood. I was aware that it was going to be an unforgettable day not only for my
sisters but for all my family and friends as well. I remember going to the
reservation hall to check if they needed any last minute help with the
decoration. At that moment, I was really surprised to see all the people that
were there helping out with the celebration arrangements. I was busy all morning
blowing up balloons, setting up tables and chairs. Similarly, my dad was
setting up the mariachi, which is the band/music that cannot be missed in a
"Quinceanera" celebration. The mariachi is a very traditional Mexican
folk music, made up by a small group of musicians, dressed in elegant and
peculiar costumes, which shows the essence of Mexico and its people. It is
something cultural, spiritual and traditional for every Latino, and also an
experience not to be missed for special moments like a "Quinceanera" All
the arrangements were done and ready when I left home to get ready for the
mass. At that moment I remember seeing my sisters crying because their hair
stylist was running late. They were nervous and exciting at the same time. I
tried to help them out while the stylist came. An hour later the stylist finally
arrived and my sisters were running late already. We were obviously really
short on time and my mother and I were not ready for the ceremony. Time passed,
and everybody was ready, when I saw my sisters with their beautiful dresses and
make-up on, I felt very special to have such a beautiful family. They looked
like princesses, the most beautiful princesses out there in the world. I was
surprised to finally see how they were not those little girls that I used to play
with when we were kids. They were now two beautiful and intelligent ladies that
were about to start a new stage of their lives. In addition, I felt very happy
because the most important part was finally done. We all were dress up and
ready for the ceremony. I still can remember the mariachi playing, my family and
friends singing behind us when we were walking towards the church's altar. During
the ceremony my sisters received the blessing of God and I was very proud of
that. At the end of the ceremony, we were doing the typical in a party, taking
pictures with relatives, friends and family.
After the ceremony, everyone was starving and
ready to eat from delicious banquet that was waiting for our guests at the reception
were the party was going to be held on. It was fascinating to see the entire
group of people talking, laughing and enjoying the party, especially to see my
sisters being part of it. After the banquet, the dance started and the first
show was the Quinceanera Val with their chamberlains. Chamberlains are the Quinceanera’s
male friends who escort my sisters to dance during the Vals. They have to be
formally dressed up and be with the Quinceanera all day. The chamberlains also
looked fantastic and they made the Vals a success and the best of the party.
During the Vals my sisters received the crown and I was the chosen one to do
it. When I was walking in the middle of the track, I felt very proud to be the
oldest sister and wanted it to cry of happiness, but I resisted and I kept walking
until I put the crown on their heads. They looked very pretty and we all
continued with the party. However, at
the end of the party nobody imagined what would end up happening. When the Vals
ended, my sisters and everyone started dancing with the band. I was dancing and
playing around with my cousins. Suddenly, I saw my dad and people running and
screaming. At that moment, a lot of things went through my head; my legs
started shaking and my blood froze. I started running behind my dad to find out
what was happening. It was my uncle Jaime, my mom’s little brother. Someone had
shot him with a gun; he was bathed in blood and totally unconscious. My other
uncle Carlos immediately took him to the hospital. My grandmother was almost about
to faint, and no one could believe what was happening. I was not sure of what
exactly was going on. Everything seemed as if i was in a nightmare. I felt
horrible when I saw my sisters crying and they couldn't believe what was
happening either. The music stoped and the party was cancelled, it was over. Some
people left while others ignored and were unaware of what had just happened. I
couldn't believe how a very special moment like my sister’s
"Quinceaneras" could have ended just like that. No one in my family was involved in any
problems and I was sure that most of the people that were in the celebration were
close family meaning that they weren't involved either.
That night turn into one of the worst days of
my life. The whole family got reunited
in my grandparent’s house; no one could sleep that night because we were waiting
for news of my uncles Jaime's health. We all were praying and hoping for
everything to be okay. My sisters were confused and at the same time they felt
sad, I told them that the best part was that we all were okay and that no one
else got hurt. The next day we finally got the good news, my uncle was no longer
in danger and he was going to be okay. We all went to the hospital. I remember
he apologized to the family because he had ruined the party. Everybody laugh
about it, and my sisters told him that the most important thing was that he was
alive. They understood that the party was not the most important event in their
lives. We all understood that my uncle’s health was way more important than a birthday
party. I was totally confused, trying to fool myself into imagening that
everything that happened was just a bad dream, but everything was real with a
not so happy ending. It was understood that my parents and I were sad because
the "Quinceanera" party was not what we had expected. However, we all
were pleased with the outcome of the party. Knowing that my family was healthy was
a much better and happier celebration.
Bad Choices and Fast Cars
A sharp wind belying the gentle
nature of summer screamed past me as I walked down the deserted curvy road. My
arm was covered in blood and my sock had turned red from the constant flow of
blood streaming from the cuts below my knee. As I walked past the Deschutes River
I considered washing myself off to lessen the amount of red that someone would
see on me when they rode their bikes by. A couple people stopped and asked if I
needed a ride to the hospital or if I needed help, but in my state of confusion
and shock I paid them no heed, just kept walking down the road. I started to
think how this happened, why I hadn’t just stayed home, who should be blamed,
where I was headed, and what the fuck happened, but that would have to be
explained from the beginning.
It was a normal summer day in
Bend, Oregon, 80 degrees sliced upon occasion by a slight wind chill from the
North. The sun was out and crystal blue skies were clear and cloudless—it couldn’t
be more beautiful of a day. Little did I know what was going to be in store for
me on a day like today. It started with my parents telling me they had to take
my sister overnight to one of her soccer games in Portland, about 2 ½ hours
away from Bend. I immediately made plans to have 5 of my good friends, Tyler,
Lucas, Justin, Clayton, and Leo, join me for festivities to begin right after
my workshift at Subway.
So I started off to work at about
1:30 with my Subway gear on (hat and apron), riding my bike to work about 2
miles away. I got to work about 1:50 and started my usual routine with an AMP
energy drink and a sandwich. At about 6:00 that day I asked my co-worker who
was leaving to buy me some beer for the next 2 days and I would buy her some
liquor from the Ray’s next door. She was hesitant at first but eventually
accepted my deal for a bottle of Jager and some super dank for 72 Pabst’s and a
case of Mickey’s grenades, all of which I stored in the back cooler of Subway while
I finished work.
Once 10:30 approached I called my friends who
were leaving the Safeway a couple blocks away. They had just grabbed a couple
24 packs of Natural Ice, Miller High Life, and Coors Light, literally. With the
shopping cart full of beer and a bunch of food they had taken from the shelves
and from the frozen food section, I saw them running down the street from the
scene of the crime.
I finished work at about 10:45
and pulled my beer out of the cooler and put it with the rest of the collection.
Justin, the only one who was 16 at the
time and therefore could drive, loaded his car full of beer and food while I
activated the alarm and locked up the store. Once that work was done, the night
was still young and we looked forward to commencing the binge drinking which
was about to take place, I still had to bike home with Leo while the other 3
drove back to my house. We met them there a little while after they had been
there and it was no surprise to see that they had not unloaded the beer at all
but were taking them one by one, drinking them on my back porch. I yelled at
the lazy fuck heads for not taking initiative and began to process of unloading
the car and stacking the beer boxes one on top of the other. Leo helped me
while the other three sat there talking a bunch of bull shit until I opened the
doors and loaded everything inside the fridge. “Don’t work too hard over there”
we told them, and they didn’t. Now it was time to get it started, we loaded the
table full of cups and started the process of preparing the beer pong table.
Once the first game was completed,
I started getting blown up by people who heard we were having a little shindig,
and wanted to come eat the food and drink the beer but I wasn’t having any of
that. A group of girls that Justin had invited came over in one car and rang
the bell. Tyler walked over and let them in and things started to get crazy,
blasting music and pounding beers. About 12:30 the girls had to leave because
one of their moms busted the whole story for staying at another one’s house.
None of them could drive so Tyler drove Katie’s car while Justin drove behind
them to pick him up. Lucas, Clayton, Leo
and I decided we should just keep drinking even if these suckas had to go home.
And we did.
At about 1:30 am the others got back to find us slowing down a
bit and gave us shit for not putting more of a dent into the second 24 pack of
Pabst we had in the front fridge. The pyramid we were building with the empty
cans kept getting bigger and bigger until there was a stack of red, white and
blue cans out on my back porch the size of a small child. At about 2:00 in the
morning Clayton and Lucas were ready to pass out while the rest of us were
sitting around talking shit to one another. Justin was the first to decide to go to sleep,
while the rest broke out cigars and the super dank I had from earlier.
Tyler wanted to be the one to
roll it up and took over the duty until he broke 2 wraps and we were forced to
find other means. There was nothing else that was available to be used except
for a brown paper lunch bag and this idea made Lucas and Clayton pass on the
idea of smoking and just went to go pass out. Leo, Tyler and I were the ironmen
who wouldn’t succumb to the major feeling we all shared at this
point--sleepiness.
Using a brown lunch bag, we rolled up a small spliff and smoked it about ¾ of
the way before Leo decided this was it for him and he went to go find a place
to fall asleep. Tyler and I were not going to be a bitch like the rest of them,
so we stayed up despite the feeling of laziness in the eyes and constant yawning.
At about 6:30 am, we decided to make a trip to
7/11 to get some munchies and energy drinks to stay awake and prepare for the
next day of drinking. Tyler insisted that we drive there and wanted to do the
driving himself so we took my parents Ford Expedition down to the 7/11 about 3
miles away and picked up some taquitos and buku energy drinks. About 7:00 we
headed back to the house but he decided to stop at the gas station and have the
attendant put $20 of gas in so we could drive a bit more; I had no idea was in
store for me at this point.
After worrying that the attendant might figure
out we were both 14 years old and that fact we both stuck like a bar the
morning after, we jammed out of there. Tyler thought we should drive out to
Shevlin Park, a long road that featured a killer S curved with some straight
away stretches designed perfectly so we could “see what this car can do.” I had no objection in my tired and buzzed
state. Tyler started burning out in the gravel and dirt doing doughnuts and
spinning around with 180 turns. I took over for a bit and slammed on the brakes
to start power sliding and even hit a jump out in the cuts.
After we mobbed around for a bit
we saw a biker start to pull out his cell phone and scream at us so we took off
down the road, Tyler took over after a bit and headed for a long straight away
and cranked the car up to 90 while we rocked some Andre Nikatina. He started to
get closer to the bend and wasn’t really braking until we got about 100 feet
away from the bend. Suddenly starting to panic, Tyler began to brake hard but
in his haste he sent the car into the gravel in the side of the road and was
forced to crank the wheel hard to turn. Blackness filled the next few minutes
or hours or days-- I had no idea how long it had been. As the fog cleared my
head, I realized we were suspended upside down, hanging mid-air secured by our
seatbelts we had somehow remembered to put on in spite of our tired and
half-drunk still state.
Tyler got out first and started
yelling at me from the other side of the window,”Matt” making sure I was still
alive and trying to get me out. He kicked the window and I elbowed the window
until it shattered. Probably not the best plan but then again, in my confused
state the best plan had already been long abandoned…to stay at home. We both
stood outside as I scanned my body for any injuries but only found a deep cut
on my leg and a few pieces of glass in my hands and small cuts, we starred at
the car which lay upside down on the opposite side of the road and looked in
horror as we began to realize what had just happened. Tyler immediately said “I
got to get out of here” and I told him to leave and while I called my parents
and walked down the road. A man who was working on pipe underground was running
to help us from down the road, I couldn’t muster up anything to say because it
seemed so surreal but Tyler had his bullshit story of leaving his phone so we
had to go back to the house. As we walked down the road I called my parents and
told them what had happened and they were horrified with what I had to tell
them, my mom said “you stay right there I am calling the neighbors to come get
you.” But the way this all seemed I couldn’t just sit still; no this had my
heart racing even though I was totally calm. Tyler made sure that I was okay
and if I would tell everyone he wasn’t even with me when this happened and I
just gave him a wave of the hand as if he was a butler and I wanted him gone
from my sight. As I walked down the deserted curvy road with the wind whistling
at my back all I could think about was getting into a nice warm bed and just
forgetting all of this had happened but right about then I saw our neighbor
Bill pulling up in his Honda and immediately checking me to see if I was okay,
then driving me straight to the hospital. Once we arrived I was placed into the
emergency room and as I laid there feeling like I was exposing myself to
everyone who walked by and saw me laying in a gown that almost covered me to my
knee, I couldn’t help but feel better to close my eyes and drift off to
somewhere else. But then I heard footsteps coming my way, “Good morning
Matthew” and I woke up to find the doctor standing above me while a deputy from
the sheriff’s office stood right behind him.
Driving Test
Ammara
Qudsia
English
1A
Essay
#1
09/18/12
Fear
and Struggle with Driving Test
After I graduated from high school, my mom told me that I
needed to get my driver’s license right away because it was hard for her to
drop and pick me up from college. I spent a long time studying for the driving
permit and I got it on my first attempt. After getting my permit, I was as
excited as a child would be during Christmas time. As my mom and I walked to
the Woodland DMV, my mother told me, “You need to focus more on your driving.”
She was worried about my driving since she had taught me how to drive in just
two months. At the beginning, I made so many mistakes on every single step but
my mom would always correct me nicely. She always pushed me to do much better
and I always tried my best to fix my mistakes because this wasn’t just about my
life anymore but also others around me.
Two months later, I went to the DMV to take the driving
test. When I entered the DMV I saw a big line in front of me with other people
who came for the test and some looked nervous. One guy next to me was biting
his nails and was rubbing his hands which made me think that he was probably
stressed. A woman was standing up and looking nervously at her permit papers
and drinking coffee. Not only her but two young girls were sitting on the chair
next to the door and talking to each other about what the instructor had asked
them to do when they had first come to take the test. This made me extremely
nervous thinking about how hard the test might have been that they failed on
their first attempt. It was all because I was nervous and I imagined there
would be a strict instructor who would ask me tough questions or
would make the test harder for me. I was sitting in the waiting room and I was
praying to pass my driving test in my first attempt. Suddenly, I heard someone
was calling my name. For a moment, I felt like my heart beat was much faster
and I was going to pass out. When it was my turn, I went to the front of the
line and I felt like my hands were frozen. My legs were shaking so much that
for a moment I felt like I couldn’t even walk to the parking lot for my test. As
I walked to the door the instructor nicely asked questions for the pre-test.
The picture that I drew in my mind about the instructor was the total opposite.
The instructor was very nice and he was trying to make me feel comfortable
because he could tell from my facial expressions that I was very scared. I
answered all his questions and then he asked me to start the car. First, he
asked me to make a right turn from the first signal so I made a right turn.
Then he asked me to change the lanes. Few minutes later, he told me to pull the
car to the curb and reverse. I pulled my car next to curb, but when he asked me
reverse I didn't reverse it correctly. He told me he'll give me another chance
and if I reverse it straight then I'll pass the exam but if I don't I’ll fail.
In my second chance when I reversed it, I still did it wrong. Then he told me
to drive back to the DMV and on my way back I could not stop thinking about the
reverse part of my test. I was just praying to God in my mind hoping that this
small mistake doesn’t fail me. When we arrived to the DMV the instructor told
me "These are the minor mistakes that you have made during the test but
for having one major mistake you can't pass you’re driving exam. You stopped at
some places which were unnecessary and you need to check traffic at all times
in mirrors." When we entered the hall way my face was red and I was trying
to hide my face in the palms of my hands because I already knew what was coming
ahead. When my mom saw me, she asked me "Honey! Did you pass the exam”?
Before my reply the instructor told her what mistake I made which made me fail.
We made another appointment for the following month and went home.
My mom held my hand and she told me, "It’s not a big
deal. You still did a good job but now you have to work really hard". She
made me feel better and also helped me realize it's not the end of the world.
To make me feel better, my mom told me the story about when she got her license
and how she passed the third time but this never made her feel hopeless. She
said, "It happens with everyone, you’re not the only one who failed an exam”. She told me, “Instead of getting
stressed out, I needed to try to cover my mistakes that I had made on my
driving. After that, I practiced even more but sometimes my older brother would
tease me that I can't get my license because I'm not as smart as him. He would
make me feel even more hopeless and I felt like I can never drive as perfectly
as my brother. One day he took me with him so I can practice my driving and
learn how he drives. Sometimes having someone as an experienced driver and
someone who you are comfortable with can make learning things easier. When he
asked to change the lines I checked all my mirrors but I forgot to turn around
over the shoulder to see if there’s any vehicle coming behind where it could be
hidden in my blind spots. I made that same mistake twice that day with my
brother and he made sure he pointed it out twice so I can know for sure what I
need to do. There was no rush on the road at that time, but when I kept
repeating the same mistake then my brother started shouting at me. He made me
feel even more hopeless and I felt like I can never drive as perfect as my
brother. When we came home I started crying and my mother hugged me and said,
“You need to compose yourself because you still have two chances left so just
keep trying and I’m sure you’ll get it this time because you have been working
really hard.” she helped to get rid of my negative thoughts. One day my mother
asked me some questions about driving and my frustrated reply to every question
was "I don't know." May be that was a sign that I was going to fail
again. Now, I was not actually failing the driving test perhaps failing to go
on the correct day. After failing the first time I practiced more on my weak
points especially parking against the curb and reversing the car.
One month later, I went to the DMV again and I was scared
I might have a strict instructor this time or I might get nervous. The fear of
failure kept popping in my head and I couldn't get rid of it. Then, I asked to
myself, "yeah, I can do this as like I get my permit so I can get my
driving license too". When I saw the instructor it was the same instructor
I had in my first test. I felt relief but when I started the car my hands were
shaking. When the instructor saw that he said, "Don’t get stressed. Just
follow the right directions, which you study in the book and listen carefully
at what I ask you about test and you'll be fine at the end". I tried to
make myself comfortable while during the test. After I was done with the
pre-test, he took me out for the road test. First, when I came to the first
stop, I stopped there completely because my mom told me to make a complete stop
because a lot of people fail there test by making these minor mistakes. Then,
he asked me to make a right turn and when I saw a car in front of me, I felt
safe because I just had to follow the car ahead of me. I paid really good
attention on the stops and I checked for traffic at all times during the test.
I was trying to cover my minor mistakes as well which i made in past. I saw the
instructor was writing something on his blank paper. Every time he would write
something on his paper, it would make me nervous as if he was writing my
mistakes.
Later he told me to park my car at next to the curve and
reverse. I reversed my car and I did well in the first attempt. Therefore, he
asked me to turn my car back to DMV. When, we entered in the hallway, I saw
that piece of paper was covered with many written things and instructor showed
me wherever I made mistakes. I thought I didn’t pass again but he told me to go
to the next window for your picture and I thought it would be a picture of
shame that I failed again in my test. But, when he printed my picture, he told
me, "congratulations you've passed and there's your driving license and to
drive carefully". He said I did really well this time compared to the last
time. Also, I didn't make any minor or major mistakes this time. I was
surprised that all my fears didn't come true this time and I had finally gotten
my license. I just felt like I had a new life and my body got its energy back
.My mother told me that she is so proud of the entire struggle hard I had done
and at last I achieved my goal. I told my brother I had passed the driving test
than he said to me that he is so proud that my effort and struggles are
rewarded. He said he is sorry about his bad and rude behavior towards me when
he was teaching me. After one week of getting my license, my mother bought me a
new car Honda Accord and I was happy like a child is on Christmas after
receiving his favorite toy. Today, I’m such a good driver and someone who has
never gotten any traffic tickets and I have also taught one of my cousins last
year on how to drive. If she made a mistake, I would never tease her as my
brother teased me. Actually I appreciated her on every single step like my
mother had appreciated me. I believe if we make mistakes than we can learn more
new things instead of those who never make mistakes. I taught my cousin how to
drive in one month and she passed her test in her first attempt, which made me
so proud.
I Would Have Never Imagined
Sheila Melara
English 1A
September 9, 2012
I Would have Never Imagined
"You don't choose your family. They are God's gift to you, as you are to them" (Desmond Tutu). This quote is very truthful for me because from the day that God gave me someone I could protect and care for, I have realized how two people can go from being strangers to friends even though they are both very different.
As a child, I was never still. I always had the urge to be moving around no matter where I was. My mother had a very hard time with teaching me basic childrens' rules; whether it was how to pick up after my toys, eat still, use the potty trainer, etc. Over time, my parents realized maybe I needed someone to play with. I remember my mother asking me if I wanted a baby sister. At the time, as I was used to being an only child and with the fact that I wasn't forced to share my toys with anyone else, I of course had no desire for a baby sister. Although my parents focused on me 99 percent of the time, they felt the need to conceive another child and they kept telling me: "Very soon you will have someone to take care of, babygirl". The only thoughts rushing through my head everytime they said that, were sharing my toys with someone else. Not a chance. I could see how their smiles were unquestionable and their eyes spoke happiness all over. But as a child, I could only think of myself and I was almost scared with the fact that I would soon be living with someone like me. When my mother's little bump turned to a huge one, I liked to think that she ate a gigantic watermelon which was stuck in her belly and everytime it moved, it would problably fade as fast as when a balloon is popped. By the time she was 7 months, her belly was so big that she couldn't walk or play with me like she used to. I was a little eager for her belly to disappear and desperate for my sister to come out. Throughout those several months I eventually changed my negative thoughts and with my parents telling me how fun it was going to be, I was a bit convinced that it would be something new and good. Once we started decorating the baby's room, my parents chose to paint it with blue and yellow. They weren't sure of the baby's gender therefore all they bought had some neutral colors. I remember buying the first teddy bear(which we still have). I couldn't decide whether to buy a pink one or a blue. Since I wanted a baby sister I did not want to buy the blue, and I made a little scene in the shop. This, I am not proud of because it is mentioned till this day! I ended up buying the pink because I was sure that it would be a girl. I was four years old when the big day came. All I could recall from that day was my mother's fearful scream. I had never seen her in such situation and after seeing her endless cascade tears, I immediately hated whatever it was that was making my mother cringe in such way. I was left with my aunt and her two big eyed children who all they did was to crash yellow titanic wheel trucks against the wall and when they grew tired they played outside on their brown wet field just to get dirty. (I considered them dangerous). I could never play with them even if they were told to play with me. I was told by my aunt that my mother was in the emergency room, giving brith to my baby brother. "What!", I thought. Right in that moment I wanted to cry. When the word "boys" were mentioned, I immediately thought of them as threatful, hazard strangers from another planet. I became scared knowing I would have a brother just like my cousins who I disliked at the time. I was very glad to come home after a week of torture with my two cousins. My mother, I knew was a strong woman although the night I went to visit her at the hospital with my dad was something I will never forget. Till this day I remember her fragile and colorless face. Her lips cracked in the middle by a long vertical line and below her eyes were light black circles. This was a bit shocking for me because I was used to seeing her with make-up on, her hair slightly combed and to see this type of change in her appearance made me wonder what in the world happened to her. Her watermelon was half way gone, that was releaving for me. But also, I knew that my "little brother" was out from my mother's belly. I was curious to see what he looked like; if he was bigger, stronger than me, and whether he was scary looking. My dad had to pick me up to see Sergio, in his little glass type of crib. I remember seing my dad's eyes get watery when he saw his little boy. Sergio was red. That was the first thing that stood out to me. "Why is he red"? I asked. "Is he sick, he looks weird momma". I started asking millions of questions that were rushing through my small head and all I got from my parents was that it was normal for him to look like that. I had never seen such thing. It was not until Sergio, my baby brother was brought home that I started to care for him. He looked like a little peanut inside a gigantic white crib, which was the same crib I used until I was two years old. His toes smelled like fresh peaches picked right from a tree. His cry was so loud, I had to cover both my ears with my hands. He sounded like if he was in pain. Right away, I wanted him to talk to me. Impossible. I was a bit disappointed of his size, because compared to how tiny he was, I was a giant. I was a little jealous of the attention that was given to him but I found myself facinated with this little guy. Over time, I became close to him partly because I was the one that helped my mom with bathing him, feeding him etc. ( At least I'd like to think so). She used to call me her "little assistant". What got me very unpatient was waiting for him to grow because I could not play as much. I always had to be careful, I wanted to run around with him but all he did was sleep.
Having a baby brother brought many changes to my childhood. I now ask myself how different it would have been without him. Although I could not imagine myself as an only child, I am thankful towards God because he brought blessings to my family and I, and because I know for a fact that I always need his support. We are very close, and even though we are completely different we always find a way to get along. I would have never imagined having a sibbling would make me who I am today.
English 1A
September 9, 2012
I Would have Never Imagined
"You don't choose your family. They are God's gift to you, as you are to them" (Desmond Tutu). This quote is very truthful for me because from the day that God gave me someone I could protect and care for, I have realized how two people can go from being strangers to friends even though they are both very different.
As a child, I was never still. I always had the urge to be moving around no matter where I was. My mother had a very hard time with teaching me basic childrens' rules; whether it was how to pick up after my toys, eat still, use the potty trainer, etc. Over time, my parents realized maybe I needed someone to play with. I remember my mother asking me if I wanted a baby sister. At the time, as I was used to being an only child and with the fact that I wasn't forced to share my toys with anyone else, I of course had no desire for a baby sister. Although my parents focused on me 99 percent of the time, they felt the need to conceive another child and they kept telling me: "Very soon you will have someone to take care of, babygirl". The only thoughts rushing through my head everytime they said that, were sharing my toys with someone else. Not a chance. I could see how their smiles were unquestionable and their eyes spoke happiness all over. But as a child, I could only think of myself and I was almost scared with the fact that I would soon be living with someone like me. When my mother's little bump turned to a huge one, I liked to think that she ate a gigantic watermelon which was stuck in her belly and everytime it moved, it would problably fade as fast as when a balloon is popped. By the time she was 7 months, her belly was so big that she couldn't walk or play with me like she used to. I was a little eager for her belly to disappear and desperate for my sister to come out. Throughout those several months I eventually changed my negative thoughts and with my parents telling me how fun it was going to be, I was a bit convinced that it would be something new and good. Once we started decorating the baby's room, my parents chose to paint it with blue and yellow. They weren't sure of the baby's gender therefore all they bought had some neutral colors. I remember buying the first teddy bear(which we still have). I couldn't decide whether to buy a pink one or a blue. Since I wanted a baby sister I did not want to buy the blue, and I made a little scene in the shop. This, I am not proud of because it is mentioned till this day! I ended up buying the pink because I was sure that it would be a girl. I was four years old when the big day came. All I could recall from that day was my mother's fearful scream. I had never seen her in such situation and after seeing her endless cascade tears, I immediately hated whatever it was that was making my mother cringe in such way. I was left with my aunt and her two big eyed children who all they did was to crash yellow titanic wheel trucks against the wall and when they grew tired they played outside on their brown wet field just to get dirty. (I considered them dangerous). I could never play with them even if they were told to play with me. I was told by my aunt that my mother was in the emergency room, giving brith to my baby brother. "What!", I thought. Right in that moment I wanted to cry. When the word "boys" were mentioned, I immediately thought of them as threatful, hazard strangers from another planet. I became scared knowing I would have a brother just like my cousins who I disliked at the time. I was very glad to come home after a week of torture with my two cousins. My mother, I knew was a strong woman although the night I went to visit her at the hospital with my dad was something I will never forget. Till this day I remember her fragile and colorless face. Her lips cracked in the middle by a long vertical line and below her eyes were light black circles. This was a bit shocking for me because I was used to seeing her with make-up on, her hair slightly combed and to see this type of change in her appearance made me wonder what in the world happened to her. Her watermelon was half way gone, that was releaving for me. But also, I knew that my "little brother" was out from my mother's belly. I was curious to see what he looked like; if he was bigger, stronger than me, and whether he was scary looking. My dad had to pick me up to see Sergio, in his little glass type of crib. I remember seing my dad's eyes get watery when he saw his little boy. Sergio was red. That was the first thing that stood out to me. "Why is he red"? I asked. "Is he sick, he looks weird momma". I started asking millions of questions that were rushing through my small head and all I got from my parents was that it was normal for him to look like that. I had never seen such thing. It was not until Sergio, my baby brother was brought home that I started to care for him. He looked like a little peanut inside a gigantic white crib, which was the same crib I used until I was two years old. His toes smelled like fresh peaches picked right from a tree. His cry was so loud, I had to cover both my ears with my hands. He sounded like if he was in pain. Right away, I wanted him to talk to me. Impossible. I was a bit disappointed of his size, because compared to how tiny he was, I was a giant. I was a little jealous of the attention that was given to him but I found myself facinated with this little guy. Over time, I became close to him partly because I was the one that helped my mom with bathing him, feeding him etc. ( At least I'd like to think so). She used to call me her "little assistant". What got me very unpatient was waiting for him to grow because I could not play as much. I always had to be careful, I wanted to run around with him but all he did was sleep.
Having a baby brother brought many changes to my childhood. I now ask myself how different it would have been without him. Although I could not imagine myself as an only child, I am thankful towards God because he brought blessings to my family and I, and because I know for a fact that I always need his support. We are very close, and even though we are completely different we always find a way to get along. I would have never imagined having a sibbling would make me who I am today.
Wrong Wedding
Yasmin Garcia
English 1A
09/25/12
Essay #1
Wrong Wedding
I was sixteen when I was married and yes I mean I was married, not by choice. Everything was great growing up I was the second oldest child of eight wild kids. I worked hard around the house took care of my brothers and sisters and I went to school. I was a straight A student never missed a day always did my homework even with all the chores and responsibilities I had at home. When financial problems came into our home it was life changing for me.
I was never a big dater I always kept away from that because I always said I would finish school before thinking about love and boys those kinds of things and my father would kill me if he saw me with a boy at my age. It was the summer before high school and I could not wait for it to began I was going to be a freshmen. My father in the other hand was not so excited for me to go to high school he said that maybe I should get home schooled so I could help out around the house more and that it wasn’t that interesting anyways he said I would get the same experience at home. My brother and mother finally convinced him to let me go under the condition that I would keep up my good grades and I would come home straight after school not a minute late unless I had something extremely important to do because I had to finish all the chores around the house
The fist day of school came and I was up extra early in my best clothes looking the best for first day impressions. I walked into school and I see all these teenagers I did not recognize they were all complete strangers to me. I was taller than most freshmen and I was shaped different than all the other girls my age. I had curves, a butt, boobs and other things that the other girls my age did not have yet, I changed a lot faster than most of the girls in my class. All the boys looked at me in a different way like they couldn’t believe I was a freshman I was certain I was not going to fall for any of these senior boy tricks I was there only to learn and graduate nothing else especially not fall for no stupid boy. Only one new person talked to me all day Anthony a senior He didn’t seem like all the other boys because he didn’t stare like the others did, he was quite nice and very attractive. He was different and I liked that.
It was the second month of the school year and I was doing great in school I had made new friends I was getting good grades and I was doing everything I told my father I would do. I was happy to be in school I loved all my teachers my new friend and I especially loved hanging out with Anthony. Yes I admit I was feeling something for a senior boy but he wasn’t like all the other boys. We would sit together at lunch and talk about everything that came to mind at that time he always made me laugh and I just felt so comfortable with him. He was my partner in all my classes and we always did our homework together at school because my father could not find out I was talking to a boy he would kill me and him. Anthony always asked me if he could walk me home but of course I had to say no because if my dad saw me I would never go back to school and I would never get to graduate.
On December third I was all sad in the morning because Anthony did not come to school that day. During lunch I decided to go sit at the stairs were no one ever sat at, when I was on my way to the stairs this boy named James stopped me and told me that Anthony was waiting for me at our usual spot that he was looking for me. Right away my frown turned into a great big smile and I went running to our spot there Anthony sat by himself with his back to me as I called his name he turned around and had this beautiful yellow flower, it looked like he had hand made it and smelled like a room full of roses, it was beautiful the most beautiful flower I had ever seen. He held the rose out to me and said I’ve been waiting for you to tell you something. He hands me the rose and gives me a kiss on my cheek something he had never done, I turned bright red and as I looked away of embarrassment he asked me to be his girlfriend. In my heart I was yelling yes, yes, but then I thought about it and all I could picture was my dad choking him to death so rite then and there I told him, No! Then Yes! I didn’t know what to say. He then held me in his arms and said, “I know why your acting this way don’t worry about your dad we will deal with him later just say Yes.” Those words made me feel so much better so I said yes.
The days the weeks and then the months passed by and I was the happiest girl in the world everything was going great. I was doing great in school I was getting everything done at home and most important of all I had the best boyfriend in the world. My parents were always fighting because they didn’t know what to do about the financial problems, my mother wanted to work but my dad did not approve of that and he wanted me to finish my school. The days went by and our family problems became worse and worse we had absolutely nothing to eat some days and we were going to get evicted from our home because we could not make the payments.
My dad woke up one day really early and said he was leaving that when he came home that day all of our problems would get solved. He seemed so sure of this. I came home that day with some food that Anthony had gave me to give to my family, he told me that we should get married and that he would help my family out because he came from a wealthy family. I told him no that we were going to figure it out that everything would be fine. When I came home that day my father, mother and fathers boss were sitting in the living room, as I opened the door they became quiet. My father asked me to come into the room because he had something important to tell me, as I walked into the room my mom looked away with tears in her eyes she got up and marched out of the room. I wanted to ask her what was wrong but before I could I was interrupted by my father telling me to sit down. He looked at me with a sad face and tells me we have solved out family problems. I smile and say well that is great and how did this happen? He looks at me and then looks down and back at me and says well my boss here is willing to marry you in exchange for a big chunk of money to get this family up again. I stared at him in shock of what I had just herd; I got up out of my seat and said no, I will not marry this man I am in love with Anthony. As I try to walk out of the room my father grabs me by the arm and says well I’m sorry but you will be married tomorrow and that is final. I began to cry and beg him to tell me he was lying that this was all just a horrible dream and I would make up and everything would be back to normal. How I wished that was true. I then get up and run out the front door running and running until I am in front of Anthony’s house. Lucky enough I see him and he comes running out and says, “What are you doing here if your father finds out he is going to kill you.” I jump into his arms and cry and tell him everything that happened. He takes me into his house and sits me down trying to calm me down telling me that he will not let my father do such a thing.
I sit there staring at Anthony for an hour not knowing if this would be the last time I see him or if it would be the last time I held him in my arms. I told him I loved him for the last time and he said it back. I was not willing to loose the love of my life for anything in the world. That day I did something I would never forget I gave Anthony the most valuable thing I had something I could never get back. I had never felt the feeling I felt that day with him. I was the happiest women in the world for those last couple of hours I spent with him. My father then later found out were I was at and dragged me out of Anthony’s side only letting me yell to Anthony that I would always love him and I would come back to him one day.
The next morning which was a Saturday morning I was woken up bright and early by my mom. She came into my room with this white expensive dress you could see how silky and smooth it looked filled with beautiful pearls on the neck part she also brought a bag wit shoes and other wedding things. She comes in and tells me to get ready for my big day that she loved me and that she knew that I would have a good life with this man that I did not know. I did not say anything back and I changed and got ready for this day that I would never forget for the rest of my life. It was twelve o’clock I still remember and my dad grabbed my arm and says lets go you don’t want to keep your groom waiting do u? As I walked out of my room to our back yard I get a glimpse of what I am wearing I looked at myself and I felt disgusted by the feeling of marrying this man I did not know. I looked at my dad and told him please dad don’t do this and he tells me, “Everything will be fine your doing the rite thing for the family.” He takes me by the arm to the table were this man stands dressed in this expensive suite waiting for me. The man holds his hand out to me and says come here honey. I go to his side and the pastor begins the ceremony. As he begins to ask me if I take this man in marriage a tear falls down my face I look back at my dad and say yes I do. I feel like my life was over that I had no escape I was stuck with this man for the rest of my life. I was married to a complete stranger and I didn’t know what to do. As I get in the car with this man and we drive away into what seems to me the worst and longest drive of my life. We get off and see my new home for the rest of my life. I think back my dreams of graduating over, Anthony over; there was nothing left for me in this life. I had lost the love of my life and I could not do anything about it. I was Mrs. Davis and I was going to stay Mrs. Davis for the rest of my life.
The Last Day
Efren
Eng. 1A
Professor Rogers
09/25/2012
The Last Day
June 4, 2010. Although this was a normal day for many people around
the world, for me it was the most exciting, nerve racking and anticipated day
of my life. It was my last day as a high school student at Pioneer High and perhaps
the first day of a new beginning in my life.
The Friday morning of June 4, was full of finals for freshmen, sophomores
and juniors but for senior students like me it was the most exciting morning of
our life. We were graduating from high school and we were outside on the
football field practicing for the ceremony. I was learning how to walk, in
which direction to walk, and how to stand up from a chair for the big moment
later that day in my graduation ceremony. As we were practicing and taking
pictures with our friends, the weather was horrible. The sky was gray; there
was no sun at all; it was cold; the wind was blowing, and last but not least, a
few drops of water were falling. It was a total disaster. For us, as graduates,
it was like Hurricane Katrina was about to hit the football stadium in the most
important day of our life. Meanwhile, our class teacher was giving us two
tickets for the event that would take place in the gymnasium in case it would
rain later that day. As we were receiving the tickets, we all started to freak
out because we did not want to have such an important event inside in a small gymnasium
where only a few hundred people could fit. The only thing that we could do was
to wait until the afternoon hoping that the weather would get better.
After practicing for about three hours my friends and I were ready to
go home and get ready for the big event. As soon as I got home I started to get
ready, I took a shower and while I was in the shower all those things that I
was practicing during the morning were going through my head. I was thinking to
myself, "What if I do something wrong or what if I fall on the middle of
the field. Everyone is going to laugh at me." I was totally freaked out.
At the same time, I was super nervous. The very idea that I had to walk around the
football field while hundreds of people were looking and staring at me made me
even more nervous. My head and my mind were like a tornado mood, spinning with all types
of ideas and worst case scenarios that could happen to me during the graduation
ceremony. After I got out of the shower, I started to get ready. I put on my
black dress pants, my gold formal shirt, my tie (which was difficult to put on),
my black vest and lastly my dress shoes. Then, it was time to do my hair. As I
looked at myself in the mirror I was thinking, "This is it, I look good
and I'm ready to have a date with the entire school, now it is time to go and
show the world that I'm ready for the challenges."
On my way to school, the sun was coming out slowly. The horrible, gray
and ugly clouds that were blocking the sun during the morning were a snail, moving
slowly away from the city and suddenly disappearing from sky. After I was in
the parking lot, I quickly walked into the theater where all seniors were meeting
for the last time inside the school. As I entered the theater, everyone was finishing
getting ready. At that moment I felt like I was in a dressing room, everyone
was talking so loudly. Some girls were sitting on the chairs finishing their makeup,
while some boys were standing up trying to get their ties done and others were
just sitting moving their legs impatiently and waiting for the moment to come.
As I looked around I could see and feel the happiness and the excitement we were
all experiencing during those moments of tension.
Then our class teacher gave us the signal-- it was time to put our
caps and gowns. The girls wore shiny white and the guys were dressed in a shiny
black caps and gowns. Then we started to form a line in order to make our way
out from the theater and into the football field. As we walked into the field,
all of us were screaming and clapping. I personally, was shaking and feeling
more nervous than ever, since I was several meters away from the football field.
On the other side were the benches of the stadium field, and I was able to see
and hear the hundreds of people who were waiting for us. The class of 2010.
As we entered into the stadium a song started playing and suddenly the
crowd was screaming, clapping and going crazy and all those nerves and concerns
that I had disappeared from my mind. As I walked into the field I was trying to
look for my family and friends, but it was impossible to find them between
those hundreds of people. The only thing that I was able to see were signs,
flashes of cameras around the stadium and a lot of balloons flying over the sky.
It was an amazing sensation. For those moments that I walked around the field I
felt like a rockstar, or like a famous person from Hollywood, making an
appearance on the red carpet. Otherwise, I was not able to see my family in the
crowd. I felt very special because out of those hundreds of people that were in
the audience screaming, only a couple of dozens of people (my family and
friends) were there to scream my name and support me in one of the biggest and most
important event of my life.
Finally, after I walked through the football field for the last time, it
was time to sit on the chairs, in the middle of the stadium. Then the principal
told us to stand up and join in singing the national anthem of the United
States of America. As I stood up, I started to look around me. In front of me,
the flags of the state of California and the United States were weaving with
the help of the wind. As I looked to my right and left there were those people
with whom I laughed, cried and I argued. Those people were and are my friends with
whom I spent, shared and lived good and bad times during my high school years. As
I continued to look around, I was not only able to see the blue and beautiful sky
but also hundreds of people setting in the benches of the stadium. Then I thought
to myself, “Who knew that this day would come, on the morning it was raining,
no people were here, the benches were empty and wet, the wind was blowing, it
was lonely. I felt like I was in a in the middle of the commentary and now look;
it is a party, a celebration of the end of a new beginning.” Towards the end of
the anthem when people started to scream I got the chills and I started to
realize that it was the end of my senior year.
When we finished singing the anthem, we took
our seats. Then a few students, who spoke another language other than English,
(Spanish, Punjabi, Korean, Portuguese, Mandarin) welcomed the audience with a "Hello, and welcome to the celebration
of graduation of the class of 2010.” As every student spoke
in their native language the audience started to scream. It was a special
moment for those in the audience for whom English is not our first language. Then
the principal, the class president, and the class teacher gave their speeches,
which I do not remember at all because I was distracted by all the balls and
corn/flour tortillas that were flying over our gowns. They were like boomerangs;
flying from one side to another. Some teachers that were sitting next to us
were running into the balls trying to catch them, but it was impossible because
the students were hitting the balls from one side to another so the teachers
weren’t able to catch them. Even though it was disrespectful from us (the
graduates), not only was it funny to see our professors running after the balls,
it fun to hit the balls and saved them from the teachers. It was an amazing
time, even though it lasted for only a few minutes. The public was laughing and
at the end of the day it was funnies part of the ceremony.
Then
it was the time to receive my diploma, as the high school counselors called out
the names of every single student in front of me, the audience was screaming
for them. I was nervous because in my head there were those thoughts of, “What
if no one screams when the counselors mention my name, or what happen if the
crowd screams louder for the guy/girl that is in front of me and no one can
hear my name.” I was really nervous but above all I was excited because it was
the moment that I was waiting for every day and since the beginning of my
freshman year.
Suddenly it was my
turn, I stepped into the ramp, my left hand was holding tightly to the rail and
with my right hand I gave the card that had my full name to the counselor so he
could read it out loud on the microphone. As I was receiving my diploma, out of
nowhere I heard my name and also the crowd screaming, yelling and clapping for
me. My friends and family did a good job. I was impressed by how loudly they
screamed.
Finally,
when all the students received their diploma, it was time for the “Tassel
Ceremony." This symbolizes the transition from a high school student to a
graduate student. In order to complete the standard
protocol, students, must move
their tassel from the right side of the gown to the left side. As the high
school principal said, “Please move your tassel to the left side of your gown”
and we were moving our tassel, the principal said, “Please give a round of
applause to the Class of 2010.” The audience started to scream and clap while
the song “The Climb” by Miley Cyrus started to play. At that moment, some
students started to cry, to hug each
other, and others to throw theirs gowns into the air, as a way to celebrate
that end of our last day as Senior
students at Pioneer High School.
Cinnamon Smell
Cinnamon Smell
Putting on my seatbelt before I start my journey back to the place where I grew up, the warmth of my heart races in excitement. Southern California was where I was heading. As I’m taking the last looks around I hear this purified sound of this quiet old town, Woodland California. So quiet you can hear crickets. It’s funny to say, everyone around here hardly gets any tickets. Over there, someone’s bound to get pulled over; from the racing cars to the angry drivers. In Woodland everyone smiles and waves with gratitude and hardly anyone has an attitude. I look to the right and there’s fields; on the left, a barn and some hills. It’s almost insane I went from a city to a town, but as I take one more look around I realize I’m going back to where I’m from, not with a frown but instead I leave in excite.
The clear skies turn to foggy and gray skies. You can feel it in the air, it’s almost not fair. Driving on the freeway, you can see all the buildings. It went from green grass, to pollution from all the gas. For me, it’s a warm feeling in my toes. My nose gets all tingly as the excitement of my heart races. Passing the beach takes me back. The bus takes you everywhere and anywhere, from here to there, as long as you pay the fair. “Swooosh, swoosh”, the waves and the smell of salty air as you look around there’s smiles and laughter everywhere. Jokes from the local comedian, rap’s from the local rapper, dancing from your local dancers, and robots form the local beach bums just trying to survive; surrounded by people with a hat on the floor, that is where their money is poured. Cd’s, flyers, store’s, food, tattoos, paintings, weed advertisements, smoke, Bob Marley, as you look around it’s as fresh as a sunny morning after a rain storm. You can hear the beautiful songs of reggae, as the wind passes your ears. You just want to move with the people who are never tired, and dance around the bon-fire. Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple, you’re never restricted to colors and many others. The dreams that you’ve dreamed of, seem as if that someday, is today. It’s beautiful, butterflies flying full of life way up high and down by your thighs. Dreads on him and her, never judged or mugged, just love. The sand between your toes is like a million miniature people massaging your stress away. Culver City, California was once where I was just around the corner of the Santa Monica pier where I would go and release all fears.
“Beep, beep” the angry driver’s honk. As I merge onto I-605 S glancing up at a sign I see “BELLFLOWER NEXT EXIT”. I made friends and lost friends. My mothers’ father and his blue house was how it began. From seventh grade to ninth grade, those were the days. My pre-teens were full of laughter; at the time it seemed so natural to be surrounded by friends every day, every time, no matter where you would find we always had time. In the school halls where the seagull’s slimy, yet gooey poop would often fall, my brother would pass. When I look back I laugh, it was as if we never crossed paths besides the times when my friends would scream, “Hi Samantha’s brother!” It matched like two birds and a cat. Who would’ve ever known it would be the last time I would walk from class to class in the same school with that awkward feeling knowing that I would see him at home, but still screaming with my friends just to say hello. School was full of people, young ones and older ones; it was from seventh grade to twelfth. Sometimes, the older ones picking on the little, yet bold like a gun that belonged to an officer, filled with pockets of just ones. There was diversity in ethnicity and race; Egyptians, Samoans, Mexican, Salvadorians, African American, Asians, Philippines, Americans, and Porto Ricans. So many mixed, there were hardly ever fists used to hit. The summer was spent every day with my “bestie”, going everywhere and anywhere you can, without getting caught. First crush, later to come it was only lust. “Frienemies”, those were friends that became your enemies. It’s silly to say, but when you’re at that age friends are lost, and some are gained.
As I continue to drive, I pass a place that has always made me feel safe. Baldwin Park, California; never will a day go by in which that city I don’t embrace. As a kid I would play all over the place, it was where my abuelita stayed. Across the city I walk with pity, only because my aubelita has made me feel shitty. It’s bittersweet, kind of like the smell of onions and feet. I love her so much, because she smells like roses and it kind of makes me want to eat meat. McDonalds was the place to be, as all the kids would play in the heat. Sweaty and hungry, but no one wants to eat. One, two, three; trees, trees, trees; tree’s everywhere, many places they can be. Gun shots make people stay away. How could this be that the sound of the sirens comforts me? From the time I was young, it’s what made me not so dumb to my surroundings. It’s the streets, sometimes they smell so sweet. From all the flowers and bees, and the trees in the street, it’s the oranges that fill me with joy, filled from my head to my feet. As the thugs walk the street, they smoke a lot of weed, eating everything they see. The children may sometimes fleet if they see them walking with a big crew, drinking some brew. It’s the silence that worries the neighborhood, because that’s when the violence occurs and it could have made them stood until the opponent claims their “hood”. Yelling near, it’s a little sad that no one has any fear. Oh what a life. At least it might influence the children to have a better life, so they won’t have to walk around carrying a knife. When you live in a place with such disease, it’s kind of scary for the people who always get asked, “Why are you looking at me?” The sun sometimes burn’s especially when all the children yearn. From the time you are young, early on you learn, not in education but in gun accusations, where you are from and how to handle the young. I knew why the dogs would often cry out at night, it was because they sensed the feeling of someone nearby losing their life. My friend was in trouble one day, I remember like it was yesterday, coming out of school my best friend and I looked for him. When you see a big crowd you know something’s going down. I ran. My best friend froze because she couldn’t believe all the blood on his clothes. Just in time we arrived, he jumped in the car and ducked because around the corner were a bunch of people chasing him. They looked like chickens after a dog interrupted they’re nest. I remember cleaning all the blood from his chest. Telling my sister’s father what had happened, I trembled, squeezing from my heart, the feeling of terror. Finally, I got settled. He was our protection and after that no one ever bothered. A couple times Chuy, my sister’s father, was driving around with her on the wrong side of town when some dumb clown tried to pull a trigger, Chuy drove away so fast my sister was bouncing around like Tigger. It’s a dangerous city when I think back, but for some reason I love to visit all my friends, it will never end. Always from here to there Baldwin Park was one of the few where I eventually moved.
As I continue to drive pass almost every city from my past; I’m almost there, my stomach starts to turn, but in a good way like the rain drops dripping down my hair. All the kids here are a little weird, their style is incomparable. Mohawks, big hair, pretty boys, gangsters, skaters, scene kids, hipsters, ravers, and modern day hippies; who would’ve ever thought you’d see them around besides when they reside, which was ten years after the sixties. It’s the big hill that I’m driving up, it seems so nuts to see this place where inside my gut I feel so warm. I’m going crazy with the thoughts of the cinnamon smell she always has, as I walk up the stairs I take a deep breath and it’s almost like fresh air. I can’t wait any longer, so I start to look around but I’m getting this feeling of hate because no one is home. Passing the hall going back to kitchen, I start busting up because the whole time my grandma was waiting for me. When I walked in I didn’t listen, she said, “hello”. I love the feeling of visiting home. West Covina California is less of the time I spent, but now it’s where I go from time to time to get away from Woodland to visit and rest.
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