The Friday That Everything Changed
- The boys were upset of the idea of the girls carrying he bucket because the bucket was a representation of status for the boys. It was the symbol that they were the strongest and the best, and the moment they realized that there would be more competition only made them even more upset that they would have less of a chance.
- The boys attempt to exclude the girls from their social activities, to try and create a mob of hate towards Alma. They continue to harass and bully Alma themselves, attempting to create a sense of regret for the girls. Although the girls believed Alma made the wrong decision in the beginning, deeper into the story, the girls stuck together with integrity and continued to ignore all threats and bullying.
- The story is told by a narrator, and is told with a limited-omniscient style. The narrator gives Ms. Ralston a positive tone, with only positive remarks made. The narrator mentioned her education, how all the kids liked her, her new ways of teaching and the way she defied the tradition at the school. The story is told from a narrator’s point of view.
- The setting was in a time post – World War II, in a one classroom school located somewhere in rural Ontario. The setting intensifies the person vs. society conflict because the traditions and history of inequality is more present into less-developed areas. With the softball conflict, the girl’s kind of just tag along the boys and are just there but don’t do much, because they do not have the materials or the people to have their own team to even prove themselves.
- The protagonist is Alma Nyles. Alma was the one who decided to defy the traditions, question the system in place and create change. Throughout the story Alma stays strong ignoring the hate towards her. She stands by her words and was the one who ultimately changed everything.
- On that Friday, the girls now had access to carrying the water bucket, but ultimately the girls now had a stronger social status in the class. They now have a different perspective on genders and differences between one another. Miss Ralston’s home run in the end sealed off the idea that girls could be just as strong as the guys and that genders do not play a role to decide whether somebody can do something or not.
Photography at it’s best.
Buildings and selfies, roses and carnage.
We praise the mundane content we dislike,
And create exactly the same garbage.
We think we’re creative, yet we’re all alike.
A thousand words fit great in an image,
Yet we cannot fit anymore than two.
We lift ourselves waiting for praise and rage,
Spending too much time thinking what to do.
Simplicity is the best personality,
What others dislike, is your key to create.
An image telling your story is specialty,
Create and enjoy, look back and relate.
Having an image that tells us your story,
Is the first step, seeking ultimate glory.
Over the snowy weekend, it was spent outside in the snow. There was heavy snowfall throughout the weekend, causing chaos around Metro Vancouver. The 14-year-old boy stayed home, avoiding the heavy traffic jams and worked on clearing the driveway of recent snowfalls.
As temperatures dropped Friday overnight, it created optimum conditions for playing in the snow. Jon took full advantage of the weather and spent the entire day outdoors creating structures made of snow and an assortment of activities that haven’t been done since the last major snowfall in the winter of 2008.
Jon ended the eventful weekend by rushing to finish the homework that had been left ignored for the entire weekend then prepared himself for another week of regular schedule.
A frigid weekend, too cold for many.
That was, except for one.
Running and shivering
In the white snow
The boy was anything other than mellow.
Freezing his toes
In the white snow
He was quick
He was playful
He was productive in the powder.
As the day went on
He only got prouder.
His snow structures were enormous
They were as wide as a car,
As tall as a bear
He just continued to played with no care.
As the sun began fainting,
Frozen as an ice cube
Began running back home
Following the scent of the carefully cooked dinner.
Living in British Columbia, it’s hard to ignore hiking. There’s just something more than walking on a path to a peak and back. I love slamming shut the car door, disconnecting from the city’s flattening mood and taking the first steps into the wet, muddy floor. And soon after those very first steps, I realise I’m stuck on a path, surrounded by the vibrant flowers and the never ending floor full of fern with no one in sight. I begin to wonder if the hike’s just a plain, old trail leading to nowhere but a depressing dead end, until the trail begins to be closed in by majestic oak trees, covered by the bright, wet moss. It’s what I think it means… the end is insanely near. As I take the final steps reaching the summit, catching my breath, breathing in the thin mountain air. It’s obviously the most rewarding part of any hike, just listening to complete human silence. Seeking down at the tiny structures we know as a city, all while listening to the chirping birds, the whistling trees and the woodpeckers who can’t seem to find their moment of silence. As I return to the trail filled with flat thoughts and wishing the view could be there forever, I remember the finest part of the hike is yet to come. The return trip. Losing your step and slipping on the loose gravel paths, seeing everything you’ve already seen but in a new perspective. Seeing new things that I seemed to miss the first time, this time only better. As I near the parking lot hearing the buzz of the city, my mind is invaded with thoughts of some delicious food that could satisfy my grumbling stomach. And not too far away as I begin to dream about different ideas, the parking lot is in front of my eyes. Slamming the car door once again, this time the end of the journey.
It’s the fluffy white substance that falls from our sky that can close a building filled with nothing but boredom. Snow days are quite possibly the most uplifting tragedy that could affect a child who hasn’t seem to grown out of playing in the cold, light snow. As I’m full of anxiousness, checking twitter every three seconds waiting for them to tweet that school is closed the moment finally arrives. “Due to inclement weather all SD43 schools will be closed.” Excitement rushes through in every place a feeling could reach in my body and I’m jumping up and down. I can’t believe it… an entire day with no homework, no school and I get to play with snow? Amazing! I rush into my room, changing all my school clothes right into snow-proof clothes, I slam the front door open and get to building the snowman I rarely get to build do to the amount of snowfalls Vancouver seems to get. Homework’s off my mind, sleeping’s off my mind, it’s just me, an entire day and a day full of snow. Rolling those three heavy balls of snow, avoiding the yellow, and creating the biggest snowman any kid ever dreamed of. Spending the entire day outside, enjoying the views and shovelling off the driveway completes the day. Nighttime begins to transition in, and all I see is the moonlight reflecting off the white, icy snow. At the end of the day, I walk into the house shaking the snow off of me and the scent of dinner fills my nose. I suddenly feel my body again, and not just the freezing snow stuck in my boots, or down my back. I settle back into the house, and get ready for yet another normal day of school the next day.
Seeing life from new perspectives, seeing the world in different environments, seeing immense structures, and the history of the land, how else would you see all that without travelling? Travelling it by far astonishing. You can never really travel too much or explore too much. People share that they want to travel to Hawaii, Bermuda, The Caribbean or Mexico. Well, I want to travel to places like Reykjavik, Stockholm, Nuuk, Iqaluit and Yellowknife. It’s about immersing myself into someone else’s perspective in the world. Seeing the different colours of nature that we can’t see here. I want to walk down a city far away that nobody knows of and just smell the bakeries, the different restaurants or home cooked meals, and just see the extraordinary everyday life of someone. I want to be able to get off of the airplane and just have my nose filled with a new scent… something I’ve never smelt before and seeing something new. Have fear flow right through my body, exploring new and random streets. Seeing unique traits of a place and getting home, just to repeat the entire process again.