English 11: Writing Portfolio    
Essay the First

Essay the Second

Essay the Third

Essay the Fourth

















The smell of grandma’s meatloaf filled the air. No one makes meatloaf like my grandmother. It is one of the reasons that I enjoy going down to the cape to visit my grandparents. After supper we went into the living room to relax. My aunt came into the house. This is usually a pleasant surprise, to see her; this time, however she mentioned that she had "found a bat in her attic.” With this, my Grandfather started telling us a story about when a bat was found in my aunt’s room many years ago. The house was my family’s first; it was where my family had started.  

 The house was on Newburg Street in Roslindale. My Grandparents bought it right after they got married in 1942. The house was bought for around thirty thousand dollars. One of the things my mom vividly remembers is that it had somewhere around sixty-five steps. I guess if you had to deal with that every winter you would remember it! Soon after my Grandparents Mary and Orlando bought the house they had their first child, my uncle Ronny Dimatteo, my Godfather. Later to follow would be aunts Kathy, Geri, Marian, Susan, Margaret and my Mom.  

 From my grandparents’ recollections my mom and aunt Susan were in the same room when they opened their closet and a bat flew out. “They started to screaming” when my grandfather ran into the room to see what was going on. He told them to stay in the room and he would be “right back.” He went downstairs and got the broom from the kitchen. He went into the room and handed my aunt the broom and told her that  “dinner would be ready in five minutes.” He then left. My Grandfather was not a wimp nor scared; he had seen worse in WWII. He just has a strange sense of humor, which he still has today. If you think about having seven kids in a house growing up, that must have been madness.


The great thing with this house was that it was not just big but it was the right size for that size of a family. It had a spacious yard to relax in.  My grandparents would sit out in it and read; I guess it was their form of ecstasy, To be able to just relax and finally have some time to themselves. My grandfather was a chef at the Boston hotel.  He would work as much as he could to support his family while my Grandmother was a secretary. They both worked very hard and did a great job at raising the family.  He was proud of that first house.  He paid for it with his hard-earned money.

    After my Grandfather told the story, we all laughed a little and smiled. Stories like these are the things that make families strong, their traditions and stories. As Americans, we need to hold on to these stories because our nation is made up of so many different people from different backgrounds and keeping these stories alive in our families is important; out of all of them our stories define our family’s. This house had so many memories in it from where my older generations had grown up.  


























The Pit is sand; it is about two thousand yards long by thirteen hundred yards wide. It is located behind my grandparent’s house. They have had it behind their house ever since they moved in. The Pit is a great place to sit and reflect. It is usually quiet for the occasional dirt bike of 4x4. As I walk through the pit I see birds that have spikes on the top of their head. I do not know what kind they are but maybe a person that would hangout here would have spiked hair separating them from society. This place is like its own little word.  
  Today the Pit is desolate. Cold and moist, but clear skies. There are some burnt out logs on the mound in the middle of the pit. Empty beer bottles decorate the barren sand. There are some birds bathing in a puddle a few yards away, as I approach they fly onto a telephone wire that runs along the pit. The human interference in the pit must be low for other than I the only people the visited are the people that had the fire. There are also some tracks that I would guess come from dirt bikes that the visitors road in on. As I look closer there is different kinds of tracks the tire marks are different so it must have been more people than I thought. The tracks remind me of scars, scars upon the earth. People that have been in car accidents sometimes have glass scars from going through the windshield. Like their scars the scars on the ground should disappear with time, probably during the next rainstorm.  
  Today squirrels are running along the telephone wires. They hop onto trees and disappear but come back every few minuets to get more acorns. They are stocking up for the long winter. New Englanders do the same they close their summer cottages and open up ski homes for the winter. The puddles have grown from the night’s rain. The atmosphere is cool but calm; the wind and the sand that is wiped up affect me into my face. I should have worn a hat like my mother said. I will probably have sand in my hair all day. As I look up onto a mound of dirt I see some wild flowers growing the seeds must have been from the birds or squirrels dropping the remains of their food. It is intriguing to see the life cycle and the new life that arises from the littlest things. As the animals need the nuts to live thy also are helping create life by means of there scraps that they leave. It reminds me of a saying that “one person’s trash is another person’s treasure”.  
  The pit is shining the sand is caked upon the earth. As I walk I sink into the sand, this is not because it is soft sand but there is moisture in the sand, which absorbed my weight. It gets easier for me to walk as I approach the embankment. The birds are sitting on the trees searching for food. After I leave perhaps they will become more active in their search. Some people do there best work when other are around and some do there best work when they are left alone perhaps the birds are the type that do their work when they are alone. I know I personally do my work when no one is around so I can concentrate. As I walk through the woods I whistle to a tune I had just heard on the radio. It is the only sound that is echoing through the pit as I walk back.  
  As I walk through the Pit I study the sand, which seems to be riddled with tread marks. Scar's of human interference. I realize that my footprints could be considered the same thing as I move on. I sit down on a rock at the top of a mound. I realize that is it’s warmer from the past days. I can appreciate that since I am not feeling that good. Some people never seem to be effected by the weather. It could be snowing out and their wearing a tee shirt. I guess it’s the same all throughout even animals don’t get affected while some grow coats of fur to protect them. The Pit seems to be very quiet today. It brings to mind the tranquility of nature by itself. Humans interact between themselves and nature also interacts within itself .There is very little movement that I notice. Maybe the animals have given up and went in for the winter. I know its time for me to give this up and go home.  































 Thoreau is one of the nations great transcendental writers for the mid nineteenth century. “A Plea For Captain John Brown” which was read to the citizens of Concord, Mass in 1859. He draws on Parallelism and rhetorical questions that force the reader to think. He creates areas that the reader may relate to. His most famous work could be argued is Walden .In his works he tries to make sense of that which people in general have difficulty-making sense of.  
       In the speech “A Plea For Captain John Brown” Thoreau demonstrates his strong ability to persuade people to understand the motives behind John Brown’s action. For one not familiar with him John brown is the leader of a group of men who tried to storm weapons Depot in Harpers Ferry. The reason of this was traced back to Kansas where he organized a resistance to make the state a free one. Also Thoreau reminds us that during the time of the civil war much blood was shed due to the strong support and opposition of slavery.  
        “A man of rare common-sense and directness of speech, as of action; a transcendentalist above all, a man of ideas and principles, that was what distinguished him.” The research that was done was extensive on behalf of the defense. Thoreau’s qualities were best shown threw his transcendentalist writings. For Example “Walden” Thoreau would go for walks in the woods, when he came upon something that he did not know, He would write it down. Thoreau kept copious notes and when he returned home would look it up. He strived for knowledge and would not shy away from a challenge that nature would provide.  
        The best quantity that I found in his writing was Rhetorical questions. His tactics were to write a question that the reader would sympathize with. With this the reader’s attention would be grabbed and his point could be made with more support.
        Overall the Passionate plea that Thoreau gave was strong and convincing, He helped shed light on a past that many had not known, Also to give motive for John Browns actions. This in my opinion has not been seen until the recent invasion and occupation of Iraq , in Defense that many have tried to futilely explain.  



































  What excitement, there is one thing that binds the world together it is sports.  
Wether it be the rich or the poor all can enjoy the excitement of sports. One of the biggest sports worldwide is Soccer. It is the official sport of the world it has not been as big in the U.S. the main method to play soccer is game using no hand: a game in which two teams of 11 players try to score by kicking or butting a round ball into the net goals on either end of a rectangular field. Only the goalkeeper may play the ball with a hand or arm.
     Soccer is the basic foundation of many countries it gives hopes to those who have talent but not money. As the United States has stadiums that hold fifty to sixty thousand people foreign countries stadiums hold over one hundred thousand people. Like America which basis success on the individual’s soccer is much the same it is a team sport but on a break away it is down to the individual to score for the success of the team just like America where people support their families? Also it is and international sport, which is played in almost every country, America is made up of many different types of people, which are integrated into society. Baseball was created here and sent of to be played worldwide well we received soccer. It was created in England hundreds of years ago and with the expansion of the empire the sport grew.  
    The sport has given hope and help to those in desperate situations like David Aquila "Soccer for Peace changed my life 100 percent," says Mr. Baus, who plays for and coaches a team in San Blas. Before he started playing, he spent most of his time with a group of young toughs, hanging out on street corners and pulling off small-time robberies. "I'd probably still be with them, living off crime," says Baus. Soccer for Peace is one of the most successful of many antiviolence organizations in this war-torn city of 1.5 million, which has between 4,000 and 5,000 murders each year. This gets many probable victims off the street and into organizations. When asked Canadian soccer coach Tony Waiters described the World cup “It was incredible, because I'd been part of the England team way back in the '60s when they went to the World Cup final. I was cut just before the final squad was put together. To go with Canada was, for all of the players at that time and myself, the fulfillment of a lifetime's ambition.” The world cup is like the super bowl but draws more than a hundred million viewers worldwide.  This has provided so much joy and excitement for people it is just widely publicized in the united states as say Football but opens the doors to the international community which reminds us we are not alone, just like America everyone is equal and deserving