I didn’t know how to write an equivalent expression when there is two square roots together. I use to just square root it separately but i learnt that there was a shortcut to find the equivalent expression.
Example: √√
Instead of doing it separately, I could change make two 
Now i know that since i have two exponents, i can use the power law and multiply it with each other.
the answer is
Answer is:
Multiplication law:
Division law:
Power law:
Negative law:
Fraction law:
I learnt that there shouldn’t be a negative exponent and in order to make it positive, i have to recipricate it. Which means i have to flip it from the numerator to a denominator or vice versa, depending on where the negative exponent is located.
Ex.
As we can see here, 
Therefore, 
Now that my exponent is positive, I can work from there
If the negative exponent is in a fraction, we must only flip the variable with that exponent to the bottom or top. i use to get confused and flip the whole fraction but i now know i only flip the variable with the exponent unless if theres a bracket.
Ex.
Instead of flipping the whole fraction, we only need to bring down 
Therefore, it will become
Why would over implementing equality not work in the human society?
In this story, the society is able to achieve physical and mental equality but does not achieve equality in power. It is highly difficult to imagine equal distribution of power in the human society as there are just some aspects that can not be controlled about the human nature. In this story Harrison Bergeron as the example, where he rebels against the system. The government, the people in power, goes to extreme lengths to make sure that everyone is equal, such as forcing more physically advantaged people to carry weights to weaken them, wearing a transmitter that sends noises every 20 seconds that would interrupt intelligent thoughts. The people were brainwashed to believe that this system is what’s best for the society just like Hazel and George were in the story. Not just that, they were also threatened by the consequences of the laws. For example, George demonstrated his fear of disobeying the law when he refused to take out his lead balls because he does not want a $2000 fine on every ball taken out and a 2 year imprisonment sentence. This shows that by trying to over implement equality in the society, the people become mindless sheep and are not able to think for themselves – thus resulting with no freedom or a sense of individuality. Vonnegut is trying to reveal the flaw in this ideology of a world with equality. The ideological belief of having a society in which everyone are completely equal backfires because it ends up creating a society in which they are “handicapped” and restrained from their own individuality.
I picked this picture of a visual representation of an independent individual attempting to escape from the conformist society that enforces “sameness” on everyone (as you can see from the similar uniforms and dull backdrops contrasting with the picture on the right, which speaks of endless possibilities). This strongly reminds me of my internal struggle of conforming to modern society’s expectations of a young woman. I constantly doubt my own uniqueness and wonder if my identity has been molded into the same form as everyone else. I think very few people can claim to be the unique person in the picture- most people are represented by the people on the left without knowing it (such as in the case of Hazel and George)
This was a project where we were studying motion and graphing the displacement for ever 5 seconds for 30 seconds. Our group decided to do a toe to heel movement and we would put a tape on the heel every 5 seconds to measure the distance between the initial position and the final position. It was very interesting because i found out that there were different changes in displacement in each interval of our trials because it all really depend on the person who is doing the toe to heel. They could have been faster or slower between each interval which would change the displacement. We learnt that the graph that we drew after we recorded everything, tells us about the different movements because when you look at the slope, the displacements are not in uniform motion so we knew that there were different motions and not a similar motion between each interval. It was really interesting graphing our data and results and seeing the difference of motion.
Converting to entire radicals to mixed radicals & Converting mixed radicals to entire radicals was what i had the most difficulty this whole unit. It was very confusing for me to convert as i would keep using the method for converting for one of them for the other one. I learnt that to convert entire radicals to mixed radicals, i’d have to multiply inside the radicand. It is a little confusing to explain in words so here is an example.
If i want to convert √108 to a mixed radical,
√108 = √36 x 3 — I would find a number which can multiply into 108 that is square root
= √36 x √3 — I will separate it but it is still the same as √36 x 3
= 6 x √3 — i will find the square root of 36 which is 6 and multiply it by √3
= 6√3 — The answer is 6√3
To know if its the simplest form you have to make sure that the perfect square is the lowest perfect square it can be because or else it would not be the simplest form.
If i want to convert mixed radicals to entire radicals, i would need to bring the coefficient inside the radical number.
Ex. If i want to convert 3√14 to an entire radical,
3√14 = √3² x √14 — I would bring in 3 (coefficient) into the radical and square it
= √ 9 x 14 — therefore 3² = 9 so now we can multiply 9 x 14
= √126 — the entire radical of 3√14 is √126
I still think i need to improve in this area but i now understand how to do it and i think i have really improved since i first started
I never knew what LCM (Least common multiple) was until not long ago when i found out what it is and how to do it. I get very confused with LCM and GCF (Greatest Common Factor) and i would get them both mixed up. LCM is the lowest multiple that the two numbers or more can multiply into together. For example, to determine the lowest common multiple of 10, 12 and 14, i would have to find the prime factors of each number, take all the prime factors of one of the numbers and multiply by any additional factors in the other numbers
10 = 2 x 5
12 = 2 x 2 x 3
14 = 2 x 7
Take 2 and 5 from 10
take 2 and 3 from 12
and 7 from 14
You then have to multiply then altogether and that will determine the LCM of 10, 12 and 14
2 x 5 x 2 x 3 x 7 = 420
The Least common multiple of 10, 12 and 14 is 420.
I used to get confused and multiply all the factors together but that is not the case, i have to multiply the prime factors
The hawker center is one of the biggest icons of Singapore culture. It is an open air complex where a variety of people would eat at any point of the day, from the crack of dawn to the wee hours of the night. I grew up going to the hawker center every day until the big and drastic move to Canada. My own memory of the hawker center had become blurry and fuzzy around the edges.
And now, years later, I was back. I was feeling a little nervous. What if things had changed completely?
I stood at the entrance of the hawker center watching it loom intimidatingly over me. I teetered a little in my stance as the noisy din of the chattering voices pressed against my eardrums. The heavy, too bright sun beat down upon me as I lifted the neck of my scratchy T-shirt to wipe my damp forehead.
I took a deep, slow breath. The odor of sweat and unwashed bodies mixed with the distinct aroma of fried and savory food filled my lungs. Waves of bittersweet memories from my childhood rose up inside me. My eyes stung and I felt a distant echo in my growling stomach.
I sidestepped an old lady balancing a tray of dirty dishes and looked around me.
The stalls lined the inside walls of the center. There were colorful signs on the top of each stall, displaying their menu and pictures of delicious and traditional Singaporean dishes. The menu from each stall ranged from boiled and salty wonton soup, to zesty flaming red Laksa, to oily fried rice topped with seasoned meat or crunchy vegetables.
Four dollars would cover the cost of a meal and drink. I scurried past the throng of people and eyed the ratty sign above an Indian stall selling steaming Roti Prata, fried dough simmering in oil. I pressed a two dollar bill into the callused hands of an Indian cook and rushed to another stall and hurriedly purchased a bright pink Bintang drink to complete the meal.
I sipped from my glass of Bintang. I was shocked at how pleasantly sweet and cool it tasted. Famished, I ripped a piece of fresh Roti Prata and jammed it into my mouth. It was flaky, yet soft and fluffy on the inside, with a touch of buttery flavoring. I grabbed another piece, this time dunking it into a plate of scalding hot curry. The curry was thick and rich, dotted with mini potatoes and tender meat. Oh, and it was spicy, fiercely spicy. My taste buds reacted in shock and I downed half of my Bintang drink. Its syrupy coolness soothed the spiciness.
I left the hawker center feeling full and content. The place had not changed much from the way I remembered it. It made me half relieved and half nostalgic for when my cousins and I were innocent and playful children, adopting this place as a normal part of everyday life. However, times change, and so do people. But if there’s one cuisine you can count on that never changes — it’s the good old Singaporean food.
The hawker center is one of the biggest icons of Singapore culture. An open air complex where people would eat at any point of the day, from the crack of dawn to the wee hours of the night. How could they not? The hawker center contained all the hundreds and thousands of memories of each individual who has eaten there, and each time I return, a new one will be added to this sensational place and the next time won’t be any different.
As I stood at the entrance of the hawker center, it loomed over me. I teetered a little in my stance as the noisy din of the chattering voices pressed against my eardrums. The heavy, too bright sun beat down upon me as I lifted the neck of my scratchy T-shirt to wipe my moist forehead.
I took a deep, slow breath. The odor of sweat and unwashed bodies mixed with the distinct aroma of fried and savory food filled my lungs. Waves of bittersweet memories from my childhood rose up inside me. My eyes stung and I felt a distant echo in my growling stomach.
I sidestepped an old lady balancing a tray of dirty dishes and looked around me.
The stalls lined the inside walls of the center. There were colorful signs on the top of each stall, displaying their menu and pictures of delicious and traditional Singaporean dishes. The menu from each stall ranged from boiled and salty wonton soup, to zesty flaming red laksa, to oily fried rice topped with seasoned meat or crunchy vegetables.
$4 would cover the cost of a meal and drink. I scurried past the throng of people and eyed the ratty sign above an Indian stall selling steaming Roti Prata, fried dough simmering in oil. I pressed $2 into the callused hands of an Indian cook and balanced a plate of Roti Prata to a table. I rushed to another stall and hurriedly purchased a bright pink Bintang drink to complete the meal.
I sipped from my glass of Bintang. I was shocked at how pleasantly sweet and cool it tasted. Famished, I ripped a piece of fresh Roti Prata and jammed it into my mouth. It was flaky, yet soft and fluffy on the inside, with a touch of buttery flavoring. I grabbed another piece, this time dunking it into a plate of scalding hot curry. The curry was thick and rich, dotted with mini potatoes and tender meat. Oh, and it was spicy, so very spicy. My taste buds reacted in shock and I downed half of my Bintang drink. Its syrupy coolness soothed the spiciness.
I was momentarily distracted by an old lady grunting and waving packets of tissue paper that she was selling. I smiled abashedly at the mess I had made in my haste to eat—there were drops of curry on the table.
I left the hawker center feeling full and content. The place had not changed much from the way I remembered it. It made me half relieved and half nostalgic for when my cousins and I were innocent and playful children, adopting this place as a normal part of everyday life. However, times change, and so do people. But if there’s one thing you can count on that never changes — its good food.
The hawker center loomed 
over me. I teetered a little in my stance as the noisy din of the chattering voices pressed against my eardrums. The heavy, too bright sun beat down upon me as I lifted the neck of my scratchy T-shirt to wipe my moist forehead.
I took a deep, slow breath. The odor of sweat and unwashed bodies mixed with the distinct aroma of fried and savory food filled my lungs. Waves of bittersweet memories from my childhood rose up inside me. My eyes stung and I felt a distant echo in my growling stomach.
I sidestepped an old lady balancing a tray of dirty dishes and looked around me. The hawker center was one of the biggest icons of Singapore culture. My eyes took in the variety of hot and tired Singaporeans draped over the round metal picnic tables— old seniors reading the daily newspaper, business people on lunch breaks, students in their school uniforms laughing with their friends, parents trying to control excited children, and tourists fanning themselves with maps.
The stalls lined the inside walls of the center. There were colorful signs on the top of each stall, displaying their menu and pictures of delicious and traditional Singaporean dishes. The menu from each stall ranged from boiled and salty wonton soup, to zesty flaming red laksa, to oily fried rice topped with seasoned meat or crunchy vegetables.
$4 would cover the cost of a meal and drink (such was the cheapness of the hawker center). I scurried past the throng of people and eyed the ratty sign above an Indian stall selling steaming roti prata, fried dough simmering in oil. I pressed $2 into the callused hands of an Indian cook and balanced a plate of roti prata to a table. I rushed to another stall and hurriedly purchased a bright pink bintang drink to complete the meal.
I sipped from my glass of bintang. I was shocked at how pleasantly sweet and cool it tasted. Famished, I ripped a piece of fresh roti prata and jammed it into my mouth. It was flaky, yet soft and fluffy on the inside, with a touch of buttery flavoring. I grabbed another piece, this time dunking it into a plate of scalding hot curry. The curry was thick and rich, dotted with mini potatoes, tender meat and lightly seasoned with coriander, turmeric (and a million other spices that added to its taste). Oh, and it was spicy, so very spicy. My taste buds reacted in shock and I downed half of my bintang drink. Its syrupy coolness contrasted pleasantly with my fiery mouth.
I was momentarily distracted by an old Chinese lady waving packets of tissue paper that she was selling and grunting. I smiled abashedly at the mess I had made in my haste to eat—there were drops of curry on the table and sauce in a ring around my mouth. I bought a packet of tissue from the lady and wiped my face swiftly before digging back in.
