I, accustomed to viewing her as the embodiment of my pain, was afraid to let go of the anger and hate, afraid to love the person who allowed me to hold onto my anger, afraid that if I gave her a chance, I might love her.For those three years, Laura didn’t hate me; she understood me.The best way to improve your writing is to read good writing.
I, accustomed to viewing her as the embodiment of my pain, was afraid to let go of the anger and hate, afraid to love the person who allowed me to hold onto my anger, afraid that if I gave her a chance, I might love her.For those three years, Laura didn’t hate me; she understood me.The best way to improve your writing is to read good writing.Tags: Creative Script WritingEssay Christian ReligionNever Trust Appearances EssayRural Development Programmes In EssayWriting A Synopsis For A Research PaperTable Of Contents For Business PlanSocial Class Prejudice In To Kill A Mockingbird Essay
I believed that what was missing was a lack of understanding between our two cultures, and that acceptance of our differences would come only with knowledge.
My first impression of Cuba was the absence of commercialism.
I judged her to be a heartless, soulless, two-dimensional figure: she was a representation of my loneliness and pain.
I left whenever she entered a room, I slammed car doors in her face.
She understood my anger and my confusion, and Laura put her faith in me, although she had every reason not to. Instead, over the next two years, the one-dimensional image of her in my mind began to take the shape of a person. She became a woman who, like me, loves and drinks a lot of coffee; who, unlike me, buys things advertised on infomercials.
To her, I was essentially a good person, just confused and scared; trying to do her best, but just not able to get a hold of herself. Three weeks ago, I saw that same Mother Teresa quote again, but this time I smiled.We’ve compiled various sample essays from people who have recently completed the college application process.These essays were chosen for their clarity, originality, voice, and style.I learned more about these truths in my sophomore year of high school, when I was among a group of students selected to visit Cuba.My grandmother was born in Cuba, yet I had never thought to research my own heritage.Laura never gave up on me, and the chance she gave me to like her was a chance that changed my life.Because of this, I know the value of a chance, of having faith in a person, of seeing others as they wish they could see themselves. Lighthearted me hangs upside-down, off the back of my recliner. Plus, I was thinking of college as a social clean slate.I saw no giant golden arch enticing hungry Cubans with beef-laced fries; I did see billboards of Che Guevara and signposts exhorting unity and love. Perhaps my experience is my truth and the more truths I hear from everyone else, the closer I will get to harmonization.I realized, however, that much of the uniqueness that I relished here might be gone if the trade blockades in Cuba were ever lifted. I was stepping out of an American political cave that shrouded the beauty of Cuba and stepping into another, one built on patriotic socialism, one where truths were just as ideological as, yet very different from, mine. The journeys I have taken have been colored by my prior experiences and by what my feelings were in those moments. Maybe there is no harmony, and I must go through life challenging and being challenged, perhaps finding perspectives from which I can extract—but never call—truth.Rather, I hated Mother Teresa’s intention, but I knew that the quote’s veracity was inarguable.I felt that it was better to judge people so as not to have to love them, because some people don’t deserve a chance. Laura was my dad’s first girlfriend after my parents’ divorce.