Essay #1: The Narrative The waves crashed down at a velocity only measurable by Mother Nature plunged me down into the abyss of the ocean floor. Her volume and mass of water tossed me around like a pin ball bouncing off rubber paddles. I helplessly squirmed around trying to find my sense of direction. Thoughts of accepting a trophy, coated with a glazy gold plastic dip, on a podium at the Olympics ran through my head as I demonstrated different variations of underwater cartwheels: one handed, two handed, and round off. I finally reached the bottom of the cold murky Manhattan Beach shore where particles of sand engulfed my toes. Having noticed the drop of beats per minute in my heart due to the lack of oxygen, I suddenly turned into a dolphin frantically swimming to the surface of the water for a fresh gasp of air. I opened my squinted eyes, looked for my 6’8 surfboard, sat on it, and faced towards the waves. After I struggled to learn the art of surfing, I finally learned how to surf and its metaphorical meaning to it. Bicycle bells ringing to aware pedestrians/surfers to move out of the bike path, a lady wearing a brown bamboo hat feeding the birds with her husband, and a European chick smothering slabs of sun block on her friend that looked like she came out of a surfing magazine were the first things I noticed at the beach. My attention suddenly adhered to the sound of rams clashing their horns for dominance or, in other words, Mother Nature’s ocean of brute force and aggression. My friend, who finally snapped me out of my trance, yells out “let’s go bro you are not going to learn by simply starring at the waves!” I strapped my warm Dakine branded leash to my ankle, cuffed my sticky sex wax coated surfboard in between my arm pits, and tip-toed my way out of the scorching hot parking lot. A sense of urgency arose to my attention in thoughts of riding my first wave. As I stood in front of the ocean, I inhaled a dense clump of air. The smell of crisp salt, seaweed and the fish market inundated my exuberant thoughts of swimming in the ocean with fish that I ate for dinner. I paddled out in search for the oceans kind tender love, but instead received the opposite. She slapped me in the face with a wave that appeared to be 6 feet high, flipped my board over and spat me out of her stomach as if I was food that was poisoning her body. I was disgruntled and dissatisfied with my performance, which lead me back to the drawing board. Giving up was definitely not an option for me at the time so, I got back to my feet, stretched my legs, tilted my head sideways, and jumped. The water in my ear slowly trickled down my lobe causing my senses to become keener. Then I noticed baby footsteps scattered throughout the sand which indicated a child in his youthful leisure. His energy is what inspired me to tackle the wave without a care in the world. Like a child running out of his class on the last day of school out for the summer, in the same way, I firmly gripped my board and dashed back to the ocean. I sat on my board while I waited for another set of waves to come and attempt to challenge the limit of my body’s strength/balance. A flock of birds migrating south added shades of orange to the sky with every stroke from their feathered wings. I looked at the oceans periphery and saw the horizon, simultaneously, drooping earth’s shutters and slowly blinding us from daylight. It was getting late. I needed to surf a wave. Having suddenly noticed a treacherous wall of water slowly creeping up to attack the surfers like it was hungry for flesh, I grabbed the rail of my surfboard as if it were my weapon of choice. I felt the waves torque through my legs and told myself “this is going to be a big one!” It picked me up about 7 feet high and positioned me in a 45
Michelle E. Diaz
ENC 1101 - 189381
November 3, 2014
Narrative Essay Revision
Resentment: Self-Inflicted and Self-Cured
Overcoming an obstacle doesn't mean that certain events have to stop occurring so that it's classified as overcome. I was once told, “Life is ten percent what happens to you and ninety percent how you respond to it.” I believe that to be 100% correct. I was raised in a culture where the man of the family, the father, the husband, holds the utmost authority and responsibility…
In the narrative, Shooting an Elephant, George Orwell shares his personal experience of a moral challenge he has faced. Orwell was an officer in a poverty infested place called Burma and was hated by many of its citizens. Burmese people saw him as an evil white imperialist. But one day, when a raging elephant tore through the Burmese town the citizens looked towards Orwell with burning eyes that persuaded him to shoot the beast. Every inch of Orwell’s body…
ABOUT THE JAPANESE IN HAWAII
According to the first 153 Japanese immigrants, the Japanese in Hawaii had to fight for the rights of Japanese for many years when they had arrived on February 8, 1885 as contact laborers. After that, they started increasing their community by setting up the first Japanese schools in the United States. By 1920, most of Japanese children in Hawaii could speak Japanese language as their first language. Because I had a chance to research about Japanese American in…
The road to the state tournament was one that I will never forget. The Perry Lady Maroons softball team of 2013 made Perry, Oklahoma history by going to the state tournament for the first time. My team and I basically lived at our softball complex from August to October. Although the outcome of state wasn’t what I expected, the blood, sweat, and tears were worth every second I got to play at the USA Hall of Fame Stadium.
The beginning of my junior year of softball season I knew we had hit the jackpot…
10 September 2013
I walked out of the vets office, tears rolling down my face as the veterinarians just stood with a look of sadness and silence in the air. They acted as if they had never seen a pet owner upset before. I walked up to my car and just stood by it as my mom came out a little later. Her eyes were as read as mine. She came up to me and hugged me. She asked me, “You were so brave…
In 10th grade, I had missed my first day of school because I was really sick. The next day it
come, while hearing the announcement of homeroom, we were told welcome back to all track
c students and welcome to incoming ninth graders. They mention that a add on year has us
waiting, and that swimming, football, and cross country try outs are the following day, and to
make sure to bring an emergency card.
Throughout my day various of friends had mentioned joining football because it can get you…
“Paper #1 – It’s a girl”
The narrative story called “The F Word” by Firoozeh Dumas talked about she came to America when little and all of her family had some exotic names. Firoozeh was so embarrassed of how people used to change her name because they were not able to pronounce it on the right form. Firoozeh could not even find a job just because of her name. Firozeeh finally changed her name to “Julie” even now her parents did not want to. Firozeeh changed her name, and after that she finally found…
Abukhalaf /Picture p 1
Freshman Writing, Block 4
By Summer Abukhalaf
“Meet with us in science after school, okay?” Maggie says.
“Okay, let me call my mom and tell her about it,” I say.
I know my mom will never let me walk with my friends to go to someones house.
I’m so excited to go trick or treating with my friends. This year is supposed to be
absolutely perfect. Eighth grade is very important. It’s your last year in middle school…
23 August 2013
Major Event in my Life
Every person has a moment in their life that changes their whole outlook or being. For most it has to do with getting married, graduating from college, losing a loved one, or discovering the love and peace that comes with having a relationship with the Lord. So, with that being said, my life has been defined by one pivotal moment that happened just last year. However, to give this story full justice I have to…
It was January 23, 2013 when vocalist Cedric Bixler announced to the world via the internet that the progressive rock n' roll band The Mars Volta had broken up. I can't say that I didn't see it coming, considering that they had been on “indefinite hiatus”, a clever term bands like to use when they don't want to admit that they've grown apart musically, for around 2-3 months before the split was made official. However, despite its predictability, that familiar sinking feeling in the gut overtook…