Writing Portfolio: Five Essays on America
Contents

Origins

Nature

Humor

Literature

Sport

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 As I walked into the living room about to ask my mother some questions, I could tell she was wondering, in her mind, what I wanted. When I started to ask her about how and when she met my father, she had a strange smile on her and a glazing look in her blue eyes. She just smiled as if it was frozen to her face. I thought to my self that it must have been such a happy day for her. I asked questions about how they met, where, and what happened from there. She answered so quickly as if she had never forgotten it.
     My mother, Patricia, was born and raised in Boston, the town of Roslindale. Her father died when she was only twelve, and her mother past away when she was thirty - eight, both of cancer. She went to High  School up the street from where she lived, at St. Clare's High. When my mother graduated, she still lived in Roslindale, and has lived there all her life. My father, on the other hand, grew up and lived in Charlestown, until he married my mother. Both of his parents are still alive. He attended Charlestown High, and soon they would both know each other very well.
     It was a Friday night in 1966. A group of my fathers' friends and him from Charlestown. went to the St. Clare High dance, as well as a group of my mother's friends and her. The reason for a group of teen age boys from Charlestown going to a dance in Roslindale, was because one of my father's friends knew one of my mother's friends and so they all hung out, from there it was history. My mother Patricia, and father, Robert, were introduced to each other from the friends that knew each other previously. They danced, talked,  and that night, were going out. They went out for two years until they were about twenty years old. Then a year after they broke up, went out again, got married, and are still together after twenty eight years.
     I think the way that they met each other was great. Not many people were born, raised, and still live in the same town their whole lives. you could say it's like a home town story. they even got married probably not even a 10 minute walk from her childhood house. and it's especially great how they met as teen agers and have practically together ever since.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My backyard connects to a series of woods-like surroundings. Overlooking is an enormous tree that plays as the center and main figure in the woods. At This place I spent two weeks standing from my deck looking upon the glorious site of my woods. Thoreau said "Our life is like a German Confederacy, made up of pretty states, with its boundary forever fluctuating , so that even a German cannot tell you how it is bounded at any moment."


   Parallel to the woods are two streets in which I live on one of them. The houses and the neighborhoods on each opposing side are relatively filled with men, women, and kids who walk amoungst the neighborhood like they always have. The place in which i callthe "land of many surroundings", is a place of beauty, and life besides human life. As I walked out onto my deck after the school day, I I looked out towards the tree that centers the woods. Giant to me of course because I live in the city anf there's not many enormous trees. I stood there and watched people come in and out of their backyards, their decks, and their porches not even noticing what laid behind them. It was as if their backyards were bare anf nothing stood there. Why did the people act this way? Did they not care for what God had given them? Maybe so, but to me this place was awesome! I mean to come out and see mother nature at its finest is great. The "land of many surroundings" was certainly that. But to these people, just going about their business and not noticing a thing was certainly that.


   Landowners acted like they had no land. Why couldn't they recognize the beauty that surrounded them? The woods area to me was definetly something to be pondered by. Over my time I've seen so many squirrels, Blue Jays, Cardinals,  Humming Birds, and so many other creatures of God. This was their home to them. It was either that or thier favorite place. I watched them come in anf go out. But only I did. These people need to look further out into the woods in which surrounds them than just accepting they have this land, with that tree, and those animals.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Before this ocurred, Bob and Tim were never friends. They always disliked eachother. The two men fought, argued, and always had a difference in opinion.
    Bob's mother had past away, and much to his surprise, his old arch enemy from his teen and twenty years showed up acting as snub as he did when they were both just teens.
    "I'm very sorry", exclaims a close relative of Bob's.
    "Thanks a lot, Sarah", Bob says to Sarah just before they hug each other in sympathy.
    Out of the corner of his eye, Bob saw a man who looked very familiar to him. He was convinced when he saw him walking over towards him. and had no doubt when Tim was as smug as he used to be.
    "Hey, how ya doin', Bobby?", says Tim
    "Not to be Tim, and yourself?", replies Bob.
    "Sorry about the loss", Tim says in a way that some one was putting a gun to his head to say it.
    Bob, curious of why Tim is at his mother's wake, because their whole lives they did not like eachother, then rplies,"Thanks a lot Tim, it means a lot to me."
    "Alright then, see ya later," Tim says with a look of disgust like some one made him come to the wake.
    Bob, with the notion that Tim was very smug and child - like saying goodbye, doesn't reply anything to Tim. He stands there and thinks why his old arch enemy showed up at his mother's wake in Medford, and still acted the same way as he did when he was just a teen and young man, coyuld do nothing but smirk.
    "Hey Eileen," Bob says to his sister," Can you believe that guy, after twenty years, he is still acting like a kid with a smug attitude."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

         Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, the transcendentalist that he was, could be compared to Ralph Emmerson, a New England poet,  much like Longfellow was.  Although they did not share exactly the same ideas of writing, both had a sense of life amongst people.  That sense of life can be seen in poems of Henry W. Longfellow such as: "Evangeline", "The Courtship of Miles Standish" and "Psalm of Life".  A poem with the most sense of life in it is "The Tide Rises, The Tide Falls".  Here, he puts life, mixed with life's occurrences and bunches them together.  Longfellow's poem, "The Tide Rises, The Tide Falls", displays a sense of the everlasting in the world and for the temporary life on earth.
     Longfellow showed the true meaning of life in his title.  The phrase,  " The Tide Rises, The Tide Falls", tells us the good things and the bad things that occur in life, however life doesn't stop for us, it always keeps going.  You could say that the phrase gives us a sense of meaning to life.  Reading this you know that you are one person in the world, you are not the world.
     Longfellow shows how some people are living a tough life and try hard.  A strong line from the poem is, " along sea sands damp and brown, the traveler hastens towards the town".  This line mixes in with the notion that life goes on no matter what you may do.  Also, this line, like a few others, could stand for the fact that the ocean is very powerful and gives off energetic vibes.  That is because, a long, sandy, damp walk, the traveler still goes about his journey.
     Power is revealed in Longfellow's poems and it shows the world is a powerful place. "The little waves with their soft white hands, efface the footprints in the sand".  The ocean becomes more apparent of it's power and glory.  It's power comes out to us when we read, it's gentle but still strong.  Kind of the way we should be in our lives.  If you think you are better than everyone else, mother nature and God will show you that you are not.
     The Tide Rises, The Tide Falls, portrays how we always keep changing and chugging along, and how no one in this world is any more special than another or the world stops for them, because it doesn't.  You can bring a second meaning to the poem by saying that a person can keep striving even through his or her hardships.  The purpose in choosing this poem is to show people the inside meaning of life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 In about 688 BC, Boxing originated as a fierce battle and competition between two men. This was not just a battle but a fight that would see who was the stronger man. In the Roman times, they fought with metal in their hands and had to begin to use leather coverings. However, boxing was soon diminished as a sport after the fall of Rome. After many years, it was revived in the 18th century in England. Now it would be seen as a sport of pure toughness with no killings and brutal beatings. Now padded gloves, breaks, trainers, and time limits all combine to form an organized sport. It carried over to America in the 20's and 30's when the working men of America started to enjoy the sport. Men in that time, and still today have been intrigued by betting on fights, and the sometimes violent nature of the fights. (Elliot)
     Boxing has become more than fighting over the years. More than anything, it has become so political, it's hard to see if boxing is even real or if the boxers were fighting for pride or money. Many wrong influences have been put on boxers, but not all critics are against boxers. Senior writer Jonh Elliot says "I think boxers are controlled by many wrong influences, leaving most of the ones we never hear about having bad careers filed with disappointments - all because some promoter wanted to make a buck"(Elliot). Promotions what makes a boxer "big" so to speak. The more promotion you have, the bigger fights your in and probably the more money you'll make. Elliot went on to say "I would like to see the politics of promoters and managers removed from the boxing landscape"(Elliot).
     The battlefield in the ring has become such a competitive place that sometimes you think whether the boxers even fight anymore rather than talk and talk. Lennox Lewis illustrates to us the field of verbal confrontation as he says "What I don't understand is that a true heavyweight champion would not disrespect an opponent with unjustified taunts and jibes"(ESPN). Taunting these present days is part of the game. Some could say that it is unfair and rude. But if you have the opportunity to psyche your opponents out, it's huge. You can't say matches are unfairly matched now. According to HBO's Ron Borges, "The right guys are beginning to fight each other and not just at the heavyweight levels"(Borges). Taunting has no effect now, mostly because guys are evenly matched. If your five feet tall fighting a seven foot tall guy, he's going to intimidate you.
     From an amateur's point of view, it is much different. The intensity during the fight is there but not much taunting. Brenden McAntyre, an amateur boxer for just over a year says "There is no taunting or rude remarks made by the fighters, it is like a totally different boxing match than a pro one"(McAntyre). Professional boxing attracts more men that amateur boxing. Amateur boxing is for fun and for sport for kids and young men or women. Mostly, Professional boxing is controlled by money, a fine line between young and old people.