I'm so tired right now but this rhetorical analysis isn't that bad

“Kiss Me” By Sixpence None the Richer 

Kiss me out of the bearded barley,

Lightly, beside the green, green grass

Swing, swing, swing the spinning step

You'll wear those shoes and I will wear that dress

Oh, Kiss me beneath the milky twilight

Lead me out of the moonlit floor

Lift your open hand

Strike up the band, and make the fireflies dance

Silvermoon's sparkling,

So kiss me

Kiss me down by the broken tree house

Swing me, upon its hanging tire

Bring, bring, bring your flowered hat

We'll take the trail marked on your father's map

Oh, Kiss me beneath the milky twilight

Lead me out of the moonlit floor

Lift your open hand

Strike up the band, and make the fireflies dance

Silvermoon's sparkling,

So kiss me

Oh, Kiss me beneath the milky twilight

Lead me out of the moonlit floor

Lift your open hand

Strike up the band, and make the fireflies dance

Silvermoon's sparkling,

So kiss me

So kiss me...

So kiss me

        Kiss Me written by Sixpence None the Richer is a romantic song that utilizes smooth diction, vivid imagery, and light tone to exclaim the singer’s lover to her presumed lover.
        There are many different ways to write out song lyrics to create a piece a music. However, lyrics are not the same as music. If anything lyrics are like poetry. The words of the song are able to come together fluidly and smooth to create this sense of comfort and aloofness. There are no hard breaks or unexpected turns in the lyrics. Nothing too exciting or new is used in order to make the audience feel comfortable and welcomed. The structure is quite uniform throughout the entire piece. Unlike many other songs, the chorus is repeated three times and there are only two unique verses in the entire song. This specific choice to only allow certain flow and structure adds to the calming nature of the song. In the chorus, the singer asks her presumed lover to “kiss [her] beneath the milky twilight”, the word milky in this sentence is an extremely smooth word and since it's in the chorus, the part of the song repeated the most often, the audience becomes the most comfortable with this line as it is also the first line in the chorus. The writer’s choice of diction effectively gives the song a calming and welcoming nature.
        Imagery in songwriting is the most prominently used and most important component of figurative language. Without descriptions of feelings or events songs will feel empty and emotionless. The songwriter here uses the description of a night sky and atmosphere. The fireflies are out and the "moonlit floor" of twilight. This specific time of night is considered the most romantic, especially when sitting in the moonlight. As this is a love song the writer needs to be able to create a very romantic atmosphere for the audience to latch on to and feel emotion. Which brings us to the writer's appeal to pathos.  A good love song needs to be able to get the audience emotionally invested in what the singer is saying. If the song doesn't tug at your heart strings then the song isn't accomplishing what it set out to do. "Oh, kiss me beneath the milky twilight." is what I would consider the most romantic line in this song. It uses very smooth and calm diction to exclaim the writer's love for her lover. Without creating the proper atmosphere the appeal to pathos would not work the way the writer intended for it to.
        The tone of the song is meant to be warm and romantic. A tone is the combination of all the author's use of rhetorical devices and appeals. The writer is able to achieve this through their diction and use of imagery. Kiss Me is aimed at the writer's lover and trying to convince them of their love and desire. If the author had come across angry then the appeal to pathos would have been lost. The tone of a good love song is inviting and emotional. Without proper diction the author would have failed in this case. The lyrics are quite simplistic in certain cases, when the singer tells her lover to "kiss [her]" the writer is being blunt and straightforward, but that is not what the song is necessarily about. The writer is telling the audience the details of how she wants it to happen, not just what she wants.
        This song is a beautiful expression of the writer's love and devotion to her lover and how she wants him to make her feel. None of this would have been possible without the proper diction, imagery, and tone the author tried to achieve and succeeded.

What are you doing? I'm writing an open letter to incoming freshmen.

Dear freshman,

Welcome to the next four years of your life.

You are now entering the mystical realm of high school. Now you’ve seen the movies, you’ve read the books, you’ve heard the stories but you’ve never experienced anything quite like this before. Congrats on graduating middle school by the way. If you’re expecting high school to be similar. Well, you’re wrong. High school isn’t just middle school with harder classes. This stuff will prepare you for your future. Life starts getting right about now. Trust me, I’ve been there. And don’t think for one second that you can halfass your whole time here. It’s time to buckle down and work hard because what you do here can affect the rest of your life.

First things first. Do your homework when it’s assigned, or as soon as possible. Work piles up so much faster than you could ever expect. Do it before it gets out of hand. Trust me I’ve been there. Weeks of overdue homework piling up on my desk and computer. It causes more stress than you could possibly imagine. No matter how much fun you’re having while not doing work, waiting until the last minute is so much worse. Put some time aside at home to do homework, whether it be immediately when you get home or when you’re relaxed on your couch or in bed at night. Long story short: don’t procrastinate, you’ll only regret it.

Now that’s not to say you can’t have fun while during your time here. Don’t be the person who just goes home after school never to be seen until the next day. Have a life. Coming from someone who’s had an extremely active social life and an almost non-existent one heed my advice: find a balance. School should be taken seriously, whether you want to learn it or not the lesson is probably useful. Pay attention. However don’t take it so seriously that you lock yourself away in your room just to do work. You don’t want to find yourself constantly sitting home at night just watching Netflix and eating pizza all alone, but you also don’t want to never have time to do anything for yourself such as homework or some peace and quiet. You should learn quickly that finding a balance between fun and work is key.

Don’t get too stressed out. It’s not worth the effort. Many times throughout my high school career I’ve wanted to cut off all my hair and run away to a different state. Don’t make the same mistakes I did. Sure, you should take your work seriously but don’t stress yourself out. I’ve seen what it does to people and it's not pretty. If you ever feel overburdened just stop what you’re doing and take a breath. (I know that’s pretty cliche but I’m not done yet) If you’re in a situation where you just have too much work and you don’t know how to handle simply make a list. Write it on your hand, type it on your phone, put it wherever. Make a list of everything that needs to get done right now. Writing everything down clearly so you can see it in front of you will allow you to focus and realign yourself.

Above all do what you love. Find your passion and run with it. High school is the time to make big decisions and everyone knows it's a stressful. Don’t worry everyone has been there and everyone has gotten through it. Take one step at a time and work through it. And just a little advice: don’t start any drama. No matter how much you like watching it on TV, real life drama is no game. But remember have fun and look forward to the end.

Sincerely,
The guy you probably wouldn’t listen to if I was saying this in person

Next year I'm a senior and writing this gave me anxiety

First Day:

         As the school bell rang a wave of students made their way to their first period class. The halls were bustling with noise and loud chatter. Each student filling in the others with what they did over the summer. Mouths ran fast with story after story rushing past everyone’s ears. All the students looked happy even though this was the start of a long journey to the end of the school year. On the first people tend not to really worry about the future, it's the only day of the year that people live in the present and just have fun.
         The school as a whole was exactly the same as it was last year. We come to expect the school to change in one way shape or form from year to year but for some reason nothing was different. The same gloomy paint job, the same narrow hallways. Even the teachers were all the same for once. As students made their way to their classes, everyone began to split up to find their first period. Large groups have kids shooting off of them like missiles as they ran to class. With schedules in hand, the freshmen looked as if they were on a tour at Disney world. Not on their way to class. Their eyes darted across the campus searching for old friends and sometimes fresh starts.
         The second bell rang and now the halls were all but empty. A few stragglers were still searching for their classes but one by one disappeared behind the heavy metal doors of the classrooms. No one was saying but everyone was thinking it: “I can't wait for the rest of the year.”

Last Day:

         People were sitting in their desks tapping the pencils on the metal frames. Their eyes were fixated on the clock waiting for that magical number 3:15 to appear. Legs bouncing up and down to try and contain the excitement everyone was feeling. The teacher had put on a movie earlier in the period, they weren’t going to even attempt to grab the kids attentions on the last day of school. It had been a rough year with its ups and downs but everyone was now looking forward to either college or summer vacation. Everyone was looking towards the future and what it had to hold.
         It was 3:10 and people were walking around the halls. Yelling and screaming and yet quiet. That’s when people realized nobody was talking. Everything was silent save the movie and the ticks of the clock. Students were just too preoccupied with their futures to even worry about starting conversations with people they only sort of liked. At the end of every year people get sick of each other. Too much interaction throughout the year caused too much drama and too much hatred (Don’t worry, everyone with forget everything bad that happened next year).
         3:14. It was almost time. People grabbed their bags and leaned forward in their seats. Everyone could taste the freedom right in front of them. The teacher began packing everything up and wishing their students a happy summer break. Again no one was listening. Although, one person did say “you too!”. The bell sound radiated throughout the halls and everyone raced out the doors. Summer was finally here.

I Don't Understand the Title of this Blog Prompt

        I stood there gazing at the wall of the memorial garden. Its concrete bricks layered on one another, each painted a different design in order to create a larger picture. The sun’s powerful rays pierced the day sky, pushing past each cloud to make its way to the nape of my neck. It was one of the hottest days all year. I welcomed the soothing winds to cool my head and arms off, as every other part of my body was covered in clothing. Birds chirped and sang in the background creating a wonderful symphony for my enjoyment. I looked down to my feet noticing the stone slabs were chipped and rotting. They were covered in dirt and mold (which honestly could be gotten rid of with a quick power wash), showing their age.
        The calm and quiet area was only disturbed once due to a single car passing by the connecting road. The sun was strong but when in the heart of the garden, the large tree in the center of the path cast its shadow onto the Earth. Bugs zipped around me looked for a feast. Mosquitoes, in particular, were a great nuisance. I swatted several away before we began to move to our final destination. My group walked slowly, our energy was draining fast due to the scorching sun's rays. Our walk came to an end as we saw Scaliwag in the distance. Cars raced past us, most likely unaware this was even a school. The gushing wind of the active road was a godsend on my sweltering body.
        I came to the end of the sidewalk to a large bush concealing the electrical system for the school I presume. Dozens of bees covered the grassy field in front of me, each playing its part in nature. Buzzing past each other the bees made their way down the field, periodically landing on flowers to pollinate them. I started to think about the Hollywood masterpiece, The Bee Movie (no joke). But when you really think about it Bees really shouldn’t be able to fly. Their wings are too tiny to get their fat little bodies off the ground. However, Bees really don’t care what humans think is impossible. But Bees are more similar to humans then you may think. They have to commute from their hive to work and put in a daily effort just like everyone else. Their lives revolve around servicing a single entity, the Queen Bee, just like our lives revolve around servicing a single entity, the Government.
        The flowers blew in the breeze aided by the zooming cars. My bushy leg hair soaked up the sweat that dripped down my legs, small sweat stains dappled my poorly-chosen sweatpants I adorned today. Small wet spots were speckled all across the thicc, grey prisons. Birds flew over my head chirping with their sweet symphony of happiness and joy. While I’m stuck in this prison these birds are enjoying the most amount of freedom possible: flight. I walked back inside to the immediate welcome breeze of the AC.

It's Hot as Ballz Outside

        Sitting down I begin to look at my surroundings. A few birds chirping, some trees plotted here and there, tons of sand and bushes. The wind on the left side of my face is welcomed as it is probably one of the hottest days we've had in a while. As I sit there boiling up a sweat, I look down to my feet. Ants. I quickly dart my feet away from them in fear of them being bitten. As I am color blind, every ant I see has the potential to be a red ant. I continue to look at the pile of ants scurrying around like mindless drones. One climbing over the other scampering around the hill trying to get out. Some ants caught my attention over a little to the side. They didn't look like the ants that were on the hill I was previously observing. Their color was a little darker and they look slightly bigger. These new ants weren't wandering around without a care in the world. They were on a mission. Walking side-by-side toward the pavement, I got up to make way. The ants neither were startled nor did it seem like they cared at all about my movements. They simply went along with their goal and continued to strut across the road. What a life.

Get Your Complaints Out of My Eyesockets

To the MIA School Board and Administration,

        No matter where you go you will find issues with every school. There is no “perfect” place. However, that doesn’t mean we can’t look at the problems we have and try to fix them. While there are several specific issues I wish to address, I will only be covering the three biggest that I believe have the most adverse effect on Marco Island Academy.
        When it comes to mentoring I understand the point of it. I believe it was originally created in order to prevent an overflow of students in the lunch pavilion due to increased student population and school popularity. However, now it has become something that traps students to one room in the school, preventing them from taking a proper break in the day. Many students also simply say that there is not enough time during the lunch segment to actually eat their lunch. While I do not experience the same problem, I do see why they may have this issue. I believe that there should be on large open lunch period where students are allowed to do as they please during that time. They could either eat lunch, go to a club, or receive extra help from a teacher of their choosing. This allows everyone the freedom to choose and make their own decisions, which is a valuable skill in the workforce and adult world. It may also prepare us for college as there students are offered almost unlimited freedom in designing the academic timetable of their education. If MIA claims to prepare students for college and beyond then it needs to start  preparing us with freedom of choice and giving us the respect that we deserve to make our own decisions.
        Personal freedoms is a common complaint with MIA. The “caging of the cell phones” is the most widespread complaint with this institution. This is the most blatant disregard of student’s freedoms. I do not believe that the misdeeds of a few should result in punishment of the many. We should focus more on attempting to reprimand students whom abuse the policy of personal device usage, rather than simply taking the easy way out and simply banning them in the classroom. I repeat, how can this school claim to prepare its students for the outside world when the students are treated like they can not be trusted. A new policy should be put in place where students are trusted instead of immediately punished even if they did nothing wrong. We should allow students to keep their phone on their person and only use it with the permission of the teacher. If the student is caught using the phone improperly then they should be punished with however the teacher deems necessary. Allowing the use of cellphones and giving students the responsibility of trust and honesty is the best way to prepare students for the “real world”.
        My final recommendation is one that I thought about excluding from this letter but decided to include due to its importance. The students of MIA are some of the most kind and caring I have met in my entire life. However, there are a select few students that should simply not be attending this school. At Marco Island Academy there is a huge drug and alcohol problem within a large portion of the student body. These problems are all but ignored and really hinder the public view of the school. Many students that do not attend MIA know this and refer to MIA as a rampant drug school. The administration of this school needs to deal with obvious student offenders in order to better show the public we are to be respected.

Descriptive Writing Redo

        After a long day at school and the long walk from my bus stop, I finally made it home. 7 Terrace Avenue, Nanuet, New York. The first thing that caught my eyes was the enormous Oak Tree that nearly touched the sky and draped the entire yard in shadow. The lush green grass cloaked in darkness and would only be revealed during a particular time of day. During the Spring the yard would be sprinkled with dandelions and tulips. The house itself was coated in blizzard white paint, only to be contrasting by the sea of dark brown roof tiles. The same color of shutters lined all the windows on each side. I made my way up the wide tar driveway that was so dark it could almost be confused for the night sky clear of stars. The imperfections showed the years of wear and tear from blankets of snow to deadly black ice. From here I made my way up elongated stairs that curved up the lawn from the driveway to the front down. It lined a large elevated semicircle of bushes that ranged in sizes from 5ft tall thick bushes to minuscule weed like structures. Reaching the front door I made my way up a final set of stairs guided by a deep black railing with old-fashioned fixtures.
        I reached for the screen door handle that would allow me access to the main door into the house. As I entered the narrow hallway encompassed my entire body, making me feel like the walls were going to close in on me. There was a closet to my right that I opened and put my jacket into. The light blue walls and tile flooring played nicely off each other and offered a nice contrast to the outside world I just exited. I walked forward through the hallway and entered a large opening in the wall into the living room. It was the largest room on the first floor with a carpeted flooring and semi-tall ceilings. My grandmother was sitting on a wide 3-person couch that laid just in front a large window setting that lit up the room no light bulb ever could. My grandmother reading a book on that couch is the fondest memory I have of her and it's what I most remember her by. The coach was bookended by two tables that had medium sized table lamps sitting upon them. In the center of the room was a large coffee table with two cushioned chairs on both ends. There was a large mahogany colored cabinet unit that housed our many nik-naks and family heirlooms.
        From the living room I entered the formal dining room. A long oak table took up almost all the space in the room. With only two dressers filling in the rest. The tiles from the hallway were resumed in this room but now the wall color had changed to a more neutral blue-green mixture. This room was used almost exclusively for family gatherings, homework, and large puzzles. A similar window setting to the one from the living room was also present on the far end wall from the back of the dining table. The window sill housed several plants and pictures of the family.  I walked in the kitchen which is connected to the dining room through a narrow door-shaped opening on the side wall. Every time I entered the kitchen I thought that I might have entered another by mistake, but this was in fact my kitchen. The striking lime green walls always startled house guests and made the room seem disconnected from the rest of the house. It was the most modern room by far, with a glass table, stainless steel appliances, and modern ceiling fixtures. The only thing that seemed a little older than the rest of the room was the gas stove. I never cooked much in my old house so it didn’t bother me but my grandfather always said it was a pain in the ass to clean.
        Moving back into the hallway, I had now made a full circle. I made my way up the staircase the was right next to the closet adjacent to the front door. The second floor contained three bedrooms: one for my grandparents, one for my mother, and of course one for me. I’m pretty sure my room was meant to be an office when the house was built but I was small then so it didn’t matter that much. The entire upstairs was carpeted except my mother’s room which hardwood flooring. All four of us had to share one bathroom on the same floor, which would leave us in a bit of a pickle when more than one of us had to use it at the same time. As I set my bag down in my room I laid down on my twin bed ready to take a nice rest after a long day.

Descriptive Writing (I couldn't think of a title for this one)

        7 Terrace Avenue, Nanuet, New York. A quaint little house. The roof tiles resemble the stark black scales of a dragon,  one laying one on top of another. The matching color shutters frame the windows and separate them from the wash of white colors along the walls. Directly in front of the house is a large patch of lush green bushes ranging from 5ft to a few inches tall (My favorite part was decorating the bushes for Christmas with a bunch of light nets, it would look A1). The patch is lined with a curved cement walkway leading to the front door.
        Entering the house you may hit your head on the door as it’s almost exactly the average height of an adult male (My grandpa starting bleeding cause of this one time, just thought you should know). The entrance is a cramped hallway leading straight into the kitchen. Directly to your right is a light wood brown colored closet, contrasting the medium blue walls. Walking forward, the carpeted living room is on the left hand side. A cozy room with a wide coach lining the window side wall and a coffee table with two cushioned chair placed on the front and back end. Two small tables with lamps act as bookends to the wide coach. Across from the living is a staircase leading upstairs to the bedrooms. Next to that is another staircase leading down to the den.
        Moving further down the hall, you finally reach the kitchen. It may, at first, seem like you accidently walked into a different house with the striking lime green walls and modern furniture (This was the only part of the house that we ever redid). The dark wood table acts as the main view of the room, accentuated with the stainless steel chandelier right above it. The walls are lined with new appliances and stark white cabinets. The wall on the back end of the house is made up of tall glass pane doors leading to the patio and pool area (You could never go in the pool if it was less than 90 degrees out or else you would probably die of hypothermia). Attached to the back of the kitchen and living room is the formal dining room. There was no extra space for anything but the 10 seat table used almost exclusively for puzzle solving and family gatherings.
        Moving back into the hallway using the stairs leading up you reach a four way intersection. One leading to the master, one leading to the bathroom and two others leading to other bedrooms. Directly above your head is the entrance to pitch black attic that more than likely has spiders and maybe a rat (I rarely went up there except to get the Christmas lights down like I mentioned before). On your way back down the stairs, a closet door enters your view directly to the right of you across from the entrance to the master.
        Finally entering the last part of the house, you traverse down the claustrophobic stairwell, leading to the entertainment center of the house. To your right, a huge old fashioned TV (You know those old box TVs? Yeah one of those but massive). A large cushioned recliner sits directly in front of the TV, with an L-shaped couch adjacent to it. The wall behind the couch was lined with multiple wooden closets doors (To be honest I have no idea what we kept in their because I never went in them). Our desktop computer had a cozy little resting place within the wall and the shelves were cluttered with various papers and photos. Right in front of the computer was a treadmill (Do you honestly think I used it? Because I didn’t).

Kieth Scalia

        When I entered Scalia's class on January 4th I was worried. I had heard things about him that made me less than excited to start his class. However, over the past few weeks, I've learned that the person I was expecting never existed to begin with. The Keith Scalia that I have come to know has his own strengths and faults, contrary to what I first believed. While the prompt for this blog is mostly asking us to comment on the effectiveness of the class and Scalia's teaching style, I also wanted to incorporate a small section on what I think of his personality.
        First, let me begin by telling you, the person reading this (obviously), what I've taken away from the class. This is by far my favorite English class of all time. Little to no notes. A small amount of pointless writing. And even now, while I'm writing this blog, I feel like my writing is evolving. All my life, my "voice" so to speak has been extremely robotic. I never liked putting any flare in a piece of writing, I thought it was distracting. But now, through these blogs where I don't necessarily have to follow all the rules of grammar, I've been able to develop my voice a bit more. Besides simply learning the class is really fun. I look forward to this class in the morning (and it's not just because coming to this class means that Marine Science is over for the day). The atmosphere is warm and worry free which can be really relaxing and put me in a good mood for the rest of the day (my remaining classes are pretty easy). Overall, the class is really fun and enjoyable.
        Now let's get to the fun part. Scalia, what a guy. To be completely honest, this guy is a pretty good teacher. He knows what he's talking about. When it comes to English topics Scalia's words should be considered gospel (*cough* Josiah *cough*). At times Scalia can be a little less than satisfactory in his teaching style. However, when he stands in front of the class and does his little lectures, I really learn a lot. Now, while this wasn't really part of the assignment I wanted to comment a little on what I think of Scalia as a person. For the most part I like him. On the other hand, at times he can be a bit sensitive. Not meaning emotional but whenever I say something that is only the slightest bit rude, he takes offense. But this is probably just another one of his ways of triggering us.
        Overall, the class is really enjoyable. I've learned so much. If I would suggest one thing is to focus more on English topics, rather than random discussions that we don't do much in. But even if you changed nothing, I still would be learning a lot.

Dhe Dreakdast Dlub

         For my teen movie I picked the classic, The Breakfast Club. (Mostly because I was too lazy to watch anything I hadn’t seen yet, and this is the easiest movie to write about for this assignment). For those of you who haven’t seen it, which I believe is approximately none of you, the movie is about 5 high school kids serving their Saturday at school in detention. These 5 characters consist of: Andrew Clark (an athlete), Claire Standish (a princess), Allison Reynolds (a basket case), Brian Johnson (a brain), and John Bender (a criminal). Those characteristics are the ones given to them during Brian’s monologue in the opening and end of the movie. This movie is basically a love letter to all the popular cliques of the 80s. Since the movie is split between these 5 distinct stereotypes, I thought it would be best to go through each one and analyze them through how realistic they are and if they withstand the test of time.
         Let’s first start with Andrew Clark and Claire Standish as a pair. Normally any other high school movie who put these two together but this is not the case for the Breakfast club. Andrew being the bully jock and Claire being the posh popular girl. However, the movie addresses this by showing that things aren’t always what they seem at first. Andrew is actually forced into wrestling because his father makes him do it. He actually has no idea what he wants to do with his life and is still coming to terms with his place in the world. With Claire it's a little different, while she seems happy and content with her life is actually depressed and is also confused with her place in the world. The script shows that the writers didn’t want to show the superficial side of each clique. These two characters definitely stood the test of time. High school is a very difficult time of self-realization and coming of age. Even though this is set in the 80s, even in 2017 kids still don’t know what they’re doing in life.
         Now let’s look at Allison Reynolds and John Bender. These two are the outcasts but in different ways. Allison is simply weird. She never even had to be in detention, she just had nothing better to do on a Saturday. John is the tough guy. He couldn’t care less about what others think of him, so he figures he should just be rude all the time instead of being kind. The two characters seem to be a little exaggerated. While there are definitely rude and weird people in the world, everyone else seems to have some kind of motivation. These two characters do not. However, when we consider that they may be a product of hyperbole, these characters definitely still exist today.
         Finally we look at Brian Johnson. He’s the most judgemental of the group. He believes that he has everyone figured out and everything is superficial. I think this is the screenwriter’s way of addressing their vision to the audience. The writers want the audience to understand that no matter what they may think they know about someone, there is always more to understand. Brian, being the smart guy, thinks the world is black and white, like academics. However, he realizes by the end of the movie that not everything is how it seems. His character arc is meant to symbolize how the audience should grow throughout the movie. However, his stereotype is still alive today. There are still people who see the world in black and white, and it simply isn’t.
         Overall, The Breakfast Club serves the screenwriters’ visions of breaking down stereotypical boundaries between people. It truly holds up against time as society is still struggling to accept how similar we all are.

Bold and brash? More like "this is a blog about boy and girl stereotypes at a lunch table"

Boy’s Lunch Table

          As lunch began people readily split off into their already predetermined groups. For the most part it was guys with guys and girls with girls. I sat down at my usual table of all guys. The over saturated air of testosterone prevented any of us from sitting too close to one another. A minimum distance of one foot of empty space between each of us was required. Our man spreads had to be perfectly executed in order to achieve maximum comfort. While lunch will always be seen as the time to eat all of our favorite food (soup), it was also a time for relaxation. Memes flying from one guy to the next at a time with boisterous laughter and chatter. Any outsiders looking in on us would think we must have been escaped mental patients from the neighboring facility. No lunch would be complete without someone spitting the ultimate RIP at the perfect moment and directed at the perfect target. This RIP had to be crafted with the utmost care and precision for maximum effect. However, you never really had to worry about if it were funny or not because you could always just cover up an awkward silence with yet another meme.
          However, if it were a particularly boring day we might have had actual cohesive conversations. They were usually straightforward and contained little to no emotional depth. After all, feeling emotion is for the weak. Questions like “What are you doing after school?” would fill the air. Not that we would honestly care, because again emotions, but it would be used just to fill the gap of silence until someone was able to say something funny or bring us more soup. Once again memes were there to save the day. Anyone would didn’t want to participate in any of the main conversations would be quite content with just sitting there on their phone playing games and listening to the humorous background.

Eating lunch with the guys is the way to live.

Girl’s Lunch Table

          As lunch began people readily split off into their already predetermined groups. For the most part it was guys with guys and girls with girls. I sat down at my usual table of all girls. We sat as close to each other as humanly possibly. We would converse almost entirely quiet and secretive. If we didn’t allow you at our table then you had no business knowing what was going on. We drew ourselves near, closed and restricted and began our usual daily chatter of drama. Our phone screens would never go dark as even though we were engaged in conversation, we also had to be connected to our social medias. I don’t think for one second we could be detached from the online word. Our conversations never consisted of anything academic related, because that stuff is for the guys to deal with. Us girls with coast through life on looks and marrying someone rich. So naturally, we talked about boys and all the drama that came with them. However, no girl was free from our conversations either. Especially the bitches that sit across the cafeteria from us.
          However, if it were a particularly boring day we might have just sat on our phones with no chatter whatsoever. The girls around me respect that fact that sometimes I don’t want to talk to them and I respect their decision when they don’t want to talk to me. We’re just so close to each other. Like super besties. I don't know what I would do without lunch and being able to sit with my friends. With lunch almost over, we would realize that we hadn't started our lunch and would to simply just go without because if anyone saw us eating besides each other it would be a disaster for my social life.

Eating lunch with my girls is the way to live.

The Myth of Latin Women

     Judith Ortiz Cofer is able to create the passionate piece of literature, “The Myth of Latin Women: I Just Met a Girl Named Maria”, in a way that seems like a one-on-one conversation with an audience member yet also a broad perspective piece on ethnic relations meant for a wider viewing. Cofer’s subject varies throughout her writing, as she shares multiple stories from her life. However, the most important one seems to be the first mentioned: the man singing to her on the bus. This story opens up her essay and gives the audience an introduction to the issue she will address. Cofer’s purpose for writing this short story seems to be quite simple: she wants to address the way people perceive certain races and ethnic backgrounds.
     Now then, how does she achieve this in the unique way I described earlier? Well, Cofer utilizes a very calm tone throughout her work. She never seems to get too emotional or frustrated with what she’s writing. Her sentences are meticulous and thoughtful, full of strength and drive not emotion and sentiment. One sentence really stuck out in my mind when reading her piece, “I resented the stereotype my Hispanic appearance called forth from many people I met”. The key word in this sentence is “resented”. It’s tense in this case is past. In fact, her whole essay is written in past tense. Her use of this tense on words, such as resented, shows her evolution from resenting the stereotype, to now how she resented the stereotype. Cofer no longer resents people perceiving her ethnicity in a certain way; she now accepts it but has decided to commit her life trying to changing it. The use of past tense in this essay shows her acceptance of life’s misfortune but she never says that she is content with how others perceive her. This precise choice of word tense allows for the tone to continue its soft and calm delivery.
     Cofer’s ability to concede to other’s points of view and then rebuttal is done beautifully in her story of her date at her first formal dance. She explains how this boy expected so much of her, mirroring her mother and other mature female figures in her life. Cofer accepts the fact that her background and surroundings can and do change the way others perceive her. She forgives people in the sense that they simply don’t understand her culture and background. The clash of customs between Latin America and the “White World” is too large for first generation immigrants to assimilate into. Cofer uses arguments for and against her points in such a way that isn’t combative, but elegant. Throughout the work you never really think she has any aversion towards anyone who may perceive her differently because of her ethnicity. She learns and adapts to further her goal of changing the way others perceive her people. Her goal isn’t to anger or fight people who see her as a Maria, but it is her goal to educate and influence their outlook from here on.
     At one point in her work, Cofer expands her story to more than just how people perceive Latinas. She brings up her thoughts on why so many people see her the way they do. “The myth of the Hispanic menial has been sustained by the same media phenomenon that made ‘Mammy’ from Gone with the Wind America’s idea of the black women for generations…”, Cofer utilizes other false perceptions of races and ethnicities to further strengthen her resolve and show her audience that others that receive similar stereotypic treatment should work together. Even though this is only one sentence in her entire piece, I believe it is extremely important. It gives the audience someone to blame, the media. Cofer needed someone for her audience to point fingers at. If there is no central force then the problem becomes generalized. Her use of combining her struggle with other people’s allows for her sympathizers to grow in her audience and help in her fight.
     Overall, Cofer does an excellent job of delivering a well-written piece of literature. This piece shows a wide range audience just how important it is to fight racial stereotypes. However, Cofer’s subtle and calm tone throughout the piece shows her want for an educational and informal way of change. I believe that Cofer would disapprove of direct confrontation and would much prefer passive remarks to help better change someone’s point of view on her ethnicity.

I Want a Husband

     While I am only a 16-year-old boy, I have certain expectations in life. I imagine one day I will settle down with a family of my own, no matter other's thoughts on this matter. I hope to find love and possibly marry the woman of my dreams. I have dreams and aspirations that need to be fulfilled and I want a wife that will nurture and respect these goals. Without a partner, life is lonely and empty. But what if my wife isn't good enough? What if she can't support me if I lose my job? Or what if I suddenly want to change my career? I would have to go back to school and I would require someone to support me and my family financially. Come to think of it, my concerns for life would all be solved with a husband. 

     With a husband, I wouldn’t need to work. My family could be supported without me even stepping foot in a job center. If I don’t want to work, why should I have to? My husband is there to support me emotionally and fiscally. He would have to work full-time, making a minimum amount for my need (and luxuries). My husband would do this, without any fighting or negotiation. With the kids now old enough to do their own chores and go to school, it’s only fair that my husband does all the work while I get to stay home and relax. He would make at least a 6-digit salary to support my needs (and wants). If he can’t afford to pay for my car, phone, yoga lessons, magazine subscriptions, and anything else I see at the store, is he really a man? He'll probably have to work a blue collar job. Getting dirty so I don't have to. Why would I have to do it, when my husband can do it for me. 

     I need a rock in my life. A person who can keep me emotionally stable. Whenever I have a fight with one of my friends, my husband needs to be there when I need a shoulder to cry on, even if he's already worked a 10-hour shift. However, above all else, he should always be trying to make me happier. It's only right for a husband to continuously try to make the world a better place for his partner and family. And whenever we argue about something he should always be wrong and I should always be right. It’s only the natural order of relationships. My husband also needs to be fit. Nobody likes a slacker. If he can’t find time to work for his family and stay healthy, that’s his problem. 

     If my husband can’t fulfill these requirements then I’ll simply replace him with someone better. A husband is always replaceable and he should never get mad whenever I remind him of that. A husband sounds pretty good. I think everyone should have one. A person whose whole life is revolved around making you happy. With a husband, you’d never ever have to worry about work or a job, or even supporting yourself financially. They’ll always be a man out there ready to pay for my next meal. I would love to have a husband.

I Want a Wife

I Want a Wife, written by Judy Brady, is an perceptive piece written in order to bring a large problem down to a comical level. With her use of hyperbole, she is able to paint a picture of what a man is looking for in a wife, largely from a feminist point of view. Brady exaggerates the extents of which a man requires certain things from his wife. Speaking only of the most extreme of circumstances and never allowing time for the inclusion of a concession. The author, however, seems to realize this and plays out the work in a mostly humorous, however introspective, way of writing. I Want a Wife utilizes the many stereotypes placed on wives throughout time. The wife needs to clean for the husband, the wife needs to cook for the husband, the wife needs to take care of the kids for the husband, everything the wife does is because of the husband. The wife never seems to do anything because she may want to. This gives the audience the impression that a man only wants a wife that will do things for him, never for herself.
Brady also understates how much men appreciate their wives. She explains how men just expect certain things and aren’t grateful for how much wives work. The author seems to think that men are only looking for some twisted form of slavery when finding love and eventually a wife.
The argument presented in the essay is somewhat weak when looking at it with a “critical eye”. Brady loses her argument’s strength when she neglects to include either logos or significant ethos. Logos is nowhere to be found in the essay which weakens from an analytical standpoint, but for this type of argument, the omission of statistics or facts can be overlooked. However, the argument clearly lacks in ethos. If the essay was written from the point of view of how the wife feels or what the wife wants then there would be a significant amount of ethos. However, Brady’s work is written from the point of view external of the wife. It can be assumed that this essay is being written by Brady under the assumption that this is what a man looks for in a wife. Seeing as Brady is not literally looking for a wife, she has little ethos to speak from. Brady’s entire argument is based in pathos. She relies on her audience feeling empathy towards these “slave women” that work day after day for their terrible husbands that don’t appreciate them.
As this was written in 1971, there has been monumental change in gender roles from then to now. However, issues do still remain but mostly not with the family unit. Gender roles in family units have all but been shattered in recent years. Women are working and living their dreams, rather than their husband’s, more than ever. The notion of comparing today’s society to one back in 1971 is insane, to say the least. More things have changed in society than people could have ever imagined back then. While the issue is still relevant, it is not relatable to Brady’s work.

Trump Inauguration: The Beginning of Greatness or the End?

          "No more uncertainty, no more fear, no more worry." is what you're supposed to feel after a Presidential Inaugural Speech. However, while Trump's speech was supposed to address the concerns of his opposers, it mostly just catered to his supporters. I say "mostly" for a reason. This speech, overall, is one of Trump's best, when compared to the speeches he made during his run for office. Trump is a terrible speaker, I don't think many people will argue with that. Going off on tangents and inserting infamous "Trump One-Liners" really weakens his arguments for anyone who doesn't already agree with him. So what made this speech so much better than his others? He stuck to the script. It seems that the messages he wants to convey are much stronger and deeper than how he is able to convey them. This time, while he still doesn't give specifics, he talks more realistically, less "believe me" or "you'll see", as many of his other speeches have contained.
          There is only one moment in the speech where this Trump trait shines through, "America will start winning again. Winning like never before.". What does that mean? Does it have any substance backing it up? Or is it just a vague promise, catering to the most patriotic of citizens? For the most part, Trump's speeches contain no details or actual proof of "winning like never before". Trump relies on his audience to believe in his rhetoric and to especially never ask questions aimed at him. His speeches and entire campaign relied on the American people's pathos or appeal to emotion. He knew that the American people were suffering and decided to use that as his main promise, to "Make America Great Again". Like most presidential slogans, Trump's MAGA is vague and can be taken differently by everyone. When comparing this to Obama's 2008 slogan of "Change", we can see that they both can be taken in the same way even if the people behind the slogan are different in many ways.
          But enough about the negatives. Did his speech work? To answer it simply, I don't know. I have no authority to speak on the overall effectiveness of Trump's Inaugural Address. I believe, as I stated earlier, inaugural speeches are needed to convince the other side that the next four years are not going to be as bad as they might have thought. Did Trump's speech do that? Again, I don't know. I've talked to a few opposers of Trump over the past few days and everyone gives me a different answer, but for the most part they all still said: "I don't know.". Since this is the answer that I got most often, I guess that Trump's speech was not effective by definition of the parameters set by me.
          Let's compare him to a mostly successful president and his speech in 1981. By far, Ronald Reagan and Donald Trump have been the most compared presidents during this entire campaign. They're both outsiders, relatively. They're both successful people in the private sector. They both have the main focus of bringing work back to America. Reagan's speech is, unsurprisingly, very similar to Trump's in the sense that appealed very heavily to emotion and little to fact. However, I don't think I've ever heard any president using several specific facts in any general speech to the public. So there's one similarity.
          However, there is one striking difference. Reagan uses much more poetic language throughout the whole thing, while Trump finishes his speech with an awkward poetic break in his otherwise stern and straight forward speech. Did this make Reagan's speech more effective? Yes. Even if you lack the ability to comprehend what Reagan is saying within his speech it still sounds more elegant and thoughtful than Trump's "bull in a china shop" approach to the speech. Was Trump's speech any good? Somewhat. Was his message good? Yes. As I said before, his speaking skills pale in comparison to others, but the actual text of the speech is actually not bad. Overall, I believe that if this speech was given by someone else then many of Trump's opposers wouldn't be thinking of this speech as crude or undeveloped.
          Did I enjoy the speech? Yeah, I guess. Did it convince me that the next four years are going to be a smooth ride? Definitely not. However, we must look to the future, not dwell on past mistakes. Trump is president now, and in the short-term there isn't anything anyone can do about it. Always trying to bring him down, or catch every mistake he makes, or even simply wishing for him to fail is like wanting a pilot to crash a plane we're all in.

Times of Change

I've been on this Earth for 16 years, 4 months, 1 day and if I've learned one thing, it's that I have so much to learn. This upcoming semester will test every bit of the knowledge I have accumulated over the years. It's turning out to be the hardest academic year of my life. With three AICE classes and a completely new field of science. I've already stayed up until 2:00 am one night to finish homework so my habits for procrastination will have to change as well.  I fear that I won't be able to adapt and my
work will consume me. I fear that I won't be good enough for all life has to throw at me. If I'm struggling with this, how will I respond to life's truly hard challenges? Everyone likes to think that we understand life, but really nobody does. Next year will be my last year of high school and I'll have to start applying to college. This semester will set the ground work if I succeed or not.

However, I'm not necessarily scared, just fearful. What am I excited for? It would be hard to pinpoint just a few things. What am I most excited? I'm excited to get my AICE diploma (if all things go well with exams), I'm excited for the completion of my Junior year, and I'm excited to apply to colleges (no matter how scared I am at the same time). So much is happening in such a short amount of time and it's incredibly terrifying as well as exciting. All I know it that this semester will be my most difficult and exciting yet and I hope I can make the best of it.