December 11, 2007
Dear Ms. Paterson,
I first read your novel, Jacob Have I Loved when I was ten years old. To this day, it is my favorite book.
I have written you today to commend your writing and comment on why this novel has such an impact on me. The characters of Louise Bradshaw and her sister Caroline have always intrigued me. I wonder if their personalities mirror people you have known in your life. Are you one of the sisters?
Sibling rivalry is a situation I have had no personal experience with because I am an only child. Louise’s resentment toward her beautiful gifted twin to me how hard it can be to grow up with someone who is constantly praised for her accomplishments.
I have several personal connections to the book. One is my visit to Tangier, the small island in the Chesapeake Bay where the story takes place. Growing up in such a remote, limited environment could be very stifling. If I were Louise, I would have also tried to get away as soon as possible and find a new life away from Caroline. I would hate to be known as “Caroline’s sister” rather than just myself.
After Reading Jacob Have I Loved, I wanted to be a midwife like Louise. I think midwifery would be a very rewarding and interesting profession to have. I think Louise’s choice to pursue that carreer was wise and suited her well.
Thank you for your contribution to children’s literature!
Sincerely,
Hayden Barns
Grade 10
Charlottesville High School
Charlottesville, VA
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Sunday, December 2, 2007
WA 3 Final
Stitches
It was October, Natalie’s favorite month of the year. She loved the rainbow of autumnal colors that sprinkled past her bedroom window when the wind blew. Halloween was her favorite holiday. Ever since she was a little girl, she sewed herself a costume. She took great care in her work and didn’t give up until the garment looked exactly like her design, down to the last stitch.
Natalie was 12 years old and in the 7th grade at Walden Heights Middle School. She was an outstanding student. Beloved by her teachers and a leader to her peers. She prided herself on nearly perfect attendance and consistent “straight-A” status. Natalie always completed her assignments ahead of time, never procrastinating like so many of her classmates. Natalie put her schoolwork ahead of her numerous extracurricular activities and never went to bed at night before her homework was done. At least, not before October 30.
It was 5:30 on a Thursday night, just more day until Natalie could go out trick-or treating with her friends and show off her new costume. She was feverishly trying to finish hemming the bottom of her Scarlett O’hara- inspired dress. The thick authentic curtain material made the sewing machine hum and purr louder as the needle strained to sew the fabric together. Uncharacteristically, Natalie had not yet completed her homework. She wanted desperately to finish her dress before Halloween night—so she decided her English paper could wait until after she was done.
Natalie had known about the assignment since Tuesday of that week, but had been too busy with her costume to start it. She had thought about what she would write about, though, and had trouble thinking up any idea for a story. What story hadn’t already been told before? Her teacher, Mrs. Hart, told the class they had to incorporate 15 elements into a creative story. The elements were: furniture, a barrier, the floor, a whisper, a dialogue of 6 words or less, a dialogue of 10 words or more, a gesture, a texture, a description of the weather, a noise, a window, something smaller than a hand, a reference to a current event, a question, an allegory, and a human hand. Natalie’s strong suit was not her creative writing, so this assignment was frustrating. When she couldn’t come up with a plot for the story right away, she put it aside and come back to it later.
She sat down at her mother’s old Singer sewing machine, rested her right foot on the pedal as always, and shifted the fabric so her chalk markings were visible just beyond the guide. She was short on pins, so she leaned over the machine to reach into the old wooden sewing box for the pincushion when her foot slipped.
Her small, narrow fingers were suddenly trapped beneath the throbbing needle. With each pierce, there was an accompanying scream from Natalie. She came to her senses and released her foot from the pedal with a jerk. The needle, while motionless, was still imbedded in Natalie’s now red and dripping index finger.
Natalie’s mother, Nadine, rushed into the room—fearing the worst. Asany loving mom would, Nadine calmed her daughter down best she could and slid the needle from her finger as she whispered soothing words.
Unfortunately, Natalie made a few stitches that day she didn’t want. Nadine rushed Natalie to the hospital, where they had to perform a minor surgery to dig out the bits of forest green thread in her finger. Her fingernail was perforated and had the texture of a cheese grater. In time, these wounds would heal. But not in time for the greatly anticipated holiday—and not in time to write her story.
Over the weekend, Natalie had the opportunity to make up the schoolwork she had missed. She considered what to write her story on for some time before thinking of a great idea. She titled her piece “Stitches.”
It was October, Natalie’s favorite month of the year. She loved the rainbow of autumnal colors that sprinkled past her bedroom window when the wind blew. Halloween was her favorite holiday. Ever since she was a little girl, she sewed herself a costume. She took great care in her work and didn’t give up until the garment looked exactly like her design, down to the last stitch.
Natalie was 12 years old and in the 7th grade at Walden Heights Middle School. She was an outstanding student. Beloved by her teachers and a leader to her peers. She prided herself on nearly perfect attendance and consistent “straight-A” status. Natalie always completed her assignments ahead of time, never procrastinating like so many of her classmates. Natalie put her schoolwork ahead of her numerous extracurricular activities and never went to bed at night before her homework was done. At least, not before October 30.
It was 5:30 on a Thursday night, just more day until Natalie could go out trick-or treating with her friends and show off her new costume. She was feverishly trying to finish hemming the bottom of her Scarlett O’hara- inspired dress. The thick authentic curtain material made the sewing machine hum and purr louder as the needle strained to sew the fabric together. Uncharacteristically, Natalie had not yet completed her homework. She wanted desperately to finish her dress before Halloween night—so she decided her English paper could wait until after she was done.
Natalie had known about the assignment since Tuesday of that week, but had been too busy with her costume to start it. She had thought about what she would write about, though, and had trouble thinking up any idea for a story. What story hadn’t already been told before? Her teacher, Mrs. Hart, told the class they had to incorporate 15 elements into a creative story. The elements were: furniture, a barrier, the floor, a whisper, a dialogue of 6 words or less, a dialogue of 10 words or more, a gesture, a texture, a description of the weather, a noise, a window, something smaller than a hand, a reference to a current event, a question, an allegory, and a human hand. Natalie’s strong suit was not her creative writing, so this assignment was frustrating. When she couldn’t come up with a plot for the story right away, she put it aside and come back to it later.
She sat down at her mother’s old Singer sewing machine, rested her right foot on the pedal as always, and shifted the fabric so her chalk markings were visible just beyond the guide. She was short on pins, so she leaned over the machine to reach into the old wooden sewing box for the pincushion when her foot slipped.
Her small, narrow fingers were suddenly trapped beneath the throbbing needle. With each pierce, there was an accompanying scream from Natalie. She came to her senses and released her foot from the pedal with a jerk. The needle, while motionless, was still imbedded in Natalie’s now red and dripping index finger.
Natalie’s mother, Nadine, rushed into the room—fearing the worst. Asany loving mom would, Nadine calmed her daughter down best she could and slid the needle from her finger as she whispered soothing words.
Unfortunately, Natalie made a few stitches that day she didn’t want. Nadine rushed Natalie to the hospital, where they had to perform a minor surgery to dig out the bits of forest green thread in her finger. Her fingernail was perforated and had the texture of a cheese grater. In time, these wounds would heal. But not in time for the greatly anticipated holiday—and not in time to write her story.
Over the weekend, Natalie had the opportunity to make up the schoolwork she had missed. She considered what to write her story on for some time before thinking of a great idea. She titled her piece “Stitches.”
Sunday, November 25, 2007
WA3 Second draft
Stitches
It was October; Natalie’s favorite month of the year. She loved the rainbow of autumnal colors that sprinkled past her bedroom window when the wind blew. Halloween was her favorite holiday. Ever since she was a little girl, she sewed herself a costume. She took great care in her work and didn’t give up until the garment looked exactly like her design, down to the last stitch.
Natalie was 14 years old and in the 7th grade at Walden Hieghts Middle School. She was an outstanding student. Beloved by her teachers and a leader to her peers. Natalie prided herself on nearly perfect attendence and consistent “straight-A” status. Natalie always completed her assignments ahead of time, never procrastinating like so many of her classmates. Natalie put her schoolwork ahead of her numerous extracurricular activities and never went to bed at night before her homework was done. At least, not before October 30.
It was 5:30 on a Thursday night, just more day until Natalie could go out trick-ortreating with her friends and show off her new costume. She was feverishly trying to finish hemming the bottom of her Scarlett-Ohara—inspired dress. The authentic curtain material made the sewing machine hum and purr louder as the needle strained to sew the fabric together. Uncharacteristically, Natalie had not yet completed her homework. She wanted desperately to finish her dress before Halloween night—so she decided her English paper could wait until after she was done.
Natalie had known about the assignment since Tuesday of that week, but had been to busy with her costume to start it. She had thought about what she would write about, though, and had trouble thinking up any idea for a story. Her teacher, Mrs. Hart, told the class they had to incorporate 15 elements into a creative story. The elements were: furniture, a barrier, the floor, a whisper, a diologue of 6 words or less, a diologue of 10 words or more, a gesture, a texture, a description of the weather, a noise, a window, something smaller than a hand, an reference to a current event, a question, an allegory, and a human hand. Natalie’s strong suit was not her creative writing and so this assignment was frustrating. When she wouldn’t come up with a plot for the story right away, she chose to put it aside and come back to it later.
When she sat down at her mother’s old Singer, she rested her right foot on the pedal as always and shifted the fabric so her chalk markings were visible just beyond the guide. She was short on pins, so she leened over the machine to reach into the old wooden sewing box for the pin cushion when her foot slipped.
Her small, narrow fingers were suddenly trapped beneath the throbbing needle. With each pierce, there was an accompanying scream from Natalie. She came to her senses and released her foot from the pedal with a jerk. The needle, while motionless, was still imbedded in Natalie’s now red and dripping index finger.
Natalie’s mother, Nadene, rushed into the room—fearing the worst. Like any loving mom would, Nadene calmed her daughter down best she could and slid the needle from her finger.
Unfortunutly, Natalie got made a few stitches that day she didn’t want. Nadene rushed Natalie to the hospital, where they had to perform a minor surgery to dig out the bits of forest green thread in her finger. Her finger nail was perforated and as bumpy as a cheese grater. In time, these wounds would heel. Not in time for the greatly anticipated holiday—and not in time to write her story.
Over the weekend, Natalie had the opportunity to make up the school-work she had missed. She considered what to write her story on for some time before thinking of a great idea. She titled her piece, Stiches.
It was October; Natalie’s favorite month of the year. She loved the rainbow of autumnal colors that sprinkled past her bedroom window when the wind blew. Halloween was her favorite holiday. Ever since she was a little girl, she sewed herself a costume. She took great care in her work and didn’t give up until the garment looked exactly like her design, down to the last stitch.
Natalie was 14 years old and in the 7th grade at Walden Hieghts Middle School. She was an outstanding student. Beloved by her teachers and a leader to her peers. Natalie prided herself on nearly perfect attendence and consistent “straight-A” status. Natalie always completed her assignments ahead of time, never procrastinating like so many of her classmates. Natalie put her schoolwork ahead of her numerous extracurricular activities and never went to bed at night before her homework was done. At least, not before October 30.
It was 5:30 on a Thursday night, just more day until Natalie could go out trick-ortreating with her friends and show off her new costume. She was feverishly trying to finish hemming the bottom of her Scarlett-Ohara—inspired dress. The authentic curtain material made the sewing machine hum and purr louder as the needle strained to sew the fabric together. Uncharacteristically, Natalie had not yet completed her homework. She wanted desperately to finish her dress before Halloween night—so she decided her English paper could wait until after she was done.
Natalie had known about the assignment since Tuesday of that week, but had been to busy with her costume to start it. She had thought about what she would write about, though, and had trouble thinking up any idea for a story. Her teacher, Mrs. Hart, told the class they had to incorporate 15 elements into a creative story. The elements were: furniture, a barrier, the floor, a whisper, a diologue of 6 words or less, a diologue of 10 words or more, a gesture, a texture, a description of the weather, a noise, a window, something smaller than a hand, an reference to a current event, a question, an allegory, and a human hand. Natalie’s strong suit was not her creative writing and so this assignment was frustrating. When she wouldn’t come up with a plot for the story right away, she chose to put it aside and come back to it later.
When she sat down at her mother’s old Singer, she rested her right foot on the pedal as always and shifted the fabric so her chalk markings were visible just beyond the guide. She was short on pins, so she leened over the machine to reach into the old wooden sewing box for the pin cushion when her foot slipped.
Her small, narrow fingers were suddenly trapped beneath the throbbing needle. With each pierce, there was an accompanying scream from Natalie. She came to her senses and released her foot from the pedal with a jerk. The needle, while motionless, was still imbedded in Natalie’s now red and dripping index finger.
Natalie’s mother, Nadene, rushed into the room—fearing the worst. Like any loving mom would, Nadene calmed her daughter down best she could and slid the needle from her finger.
Unfortunutly, Natalie got made a few stitches that day she didn’t want. Nadene rushed Natalie to the hospital, where they had to perform a minor surgery to dig out the bits of forest green thread in her finger. Her finger nail was perforated and as bumpy as a cheese grater. In time, these wounds would heel. Not in time for the greatly anticipated holiday—and not in time to write her story.
Over the weekend, Natalie had the opportunity to make up the school-work she had missed. She considered what to write her story on for some time before thinking of a great idea. She titled her piece, Stiches.
Sunday, November 18, 2007
WA3 Rough Draft
“Wha—”
“Shhhhhh!” hissed Marie. “I’m listening to the grownups!”
Robert looked sternly at his sister. At six years old he was the youngest of the kids, but in many ways the wisest.
“You shouldn’t eavesdrop,” he hissed back.
“Fine,” said Marie, stomping her Mary Janes on the floor to get up. The voices on the other side of the door grew more faint.
“It’s a beautiful day, we should go for a walk,” Robert said as he gazed out of the hall window, at the sunlight twinkling through the tree leaves.
Robert and Marie walked out of the house through the back door and onto their lawn. The grass poked Robert’s bare feet.
“Don’t you want to put on your shoes?”
“I’ll be okay.”
The two children grasped hands and ran through the grasses. The image was like that of a Norman Rockwell painting. They galloped and spun around and around until they fell over, dizzy. Marie gave Robert one of her shoes and they hopped around on one foot. Collapsing onto the ground in fits of giggles, the children laughed and laughed.
“Let’s run back to the house!” said Marie.
“Okay, one-two-three GO!”
“No fair! I wasn’t ready yet!”
Robert stopped in his tracks and looked back at his sister, who was running quickly behind him, panting. He waited until she caught up and then they both sprinted ahead. Marie got to the door just before him and grabbed the knob.
They clambered up the stairs and into the kitchen.
“Shhhhhh!” hissed Marie. “I’m listening to the grownups!”
Robert looked sternly at his sister. At six years old he was the youngest of the kids, but in many ways the wisest.
“You shouldn’t eavesdrop,” he hissed back.
“Fine,” said Marie, stomping her Mary Janes on the floor to get up. The voices on the other side of the door grew more faint.
“It’s a beautiful day, we should go for a walk,” Robert said as he gazed out of the hall window, at the sunlight twinkling through the tree leaves.
Robert and Marie walked out of the house through the back door and onto their lawn. The grass poked Robert’s bare feet.
“Don’t you want to put on your shoes?”
“I’ll be okay.”
The two children grasped hands and ran through the grasses. The image was like that of a Norman Rockwell painting. They galloped and spun around and around until they fell over, dizzy. Marie gave Robert one of her shoes and they hopped around on one foot. Collapsing onto the ground in fits of giggles, the children laughed and laughed.
“Let’s run back to the house!” said Marie.
“Okay, one-two-three GO!”
“No fair! I wasn’t ready yet!”
Robert stopped in his tracks and looked back at his sister, who was running quickly behind him, panting. He waited until she caught up and then they both sprinted ahead. Marie got to the door just before him and grabbed the knob.
They clambered up the stairs and into the kitchen.
Sunday, October 21, 2007
WA2 Final
Abortion is a topic frequently debated among politicians in the United States. For those who have not had to deal with decisions involving unwanted pregnancy, abortion can seem just “wrong” or “evil.” Abortion should be a legal option for women in America. The decision involves her body, women who are not ready to raise children should not be forced to, making abortion illegal forces pregnant women to resort to dangerous methods to abort an unwanted child, and sometimes contraceptives are not an option.
Decisions involving pregnancy and birth control involve a woman’s body and should be made by the woman and the father of the unborn child. It just makes sense. The woman and her sex partner may have failed to use a contraceptive device, but they still have a chance to prevent having children. Abortion should be the last resort for a pregnant woman, but that choice should be hers, not a group of primarily male congressmen who are too focused on the morals of the issue to understand the situation facing women across the country. If a woman has made the difficult decision to end her pregnancy, she should be respected for that choice and be treated like any other person seeking medical attention. She should not be made to view photographs of aborted babies or guilted into making an unwise decision. If giving birth to the baby poses health concerns for the mother, then abortion is the clear choice. The human who has evolved into her own “person” should always come first.
In too many cases, parents have a child when they aren’t ready for one, creating an unfortunate family situation for the child, who may be unloved and uncared for. When parents don’t want the child they are raising, parenthood is a burden of necessity rather than love and joy. Currently there are 10 million single mothers living in the U.S. (Source: http://www.census.gov/Press-Release/www/releases/archives/facts_for_features_special_editions/004109.html) most women who become pregnant before they are married are forced to sacrifice their education in order to support their children. The children are often raised on a minimum wage income and lack a father figure to guide them. When we attempt to solve problems in society like poverty, hunger, and teen pregnancy, we often fail to link these problems to one another.
Where abortion is made unlawful or frowned upon by a community, women desperate for a way out of motherhood may choose to perform an illegal abortion. When a woman attempts to abort the baby by inserting a clothes hanger into the uterus, eating herbal remedies or poisons, or trying to kill the fetus by beating her stomach—life-threatening complications such as infection and excessive bleeding can occur. If a woman is determined to end the pregnancy, she will do it even if it is against the law. We cannot turn away while women are hurting themselves to end a pregnancy while we have able doctors across the country willing to perform the procedure safely.
In instances of sexual abuse such as incest and rape, preventive methods are usually not options for the victim. If a teenage girl or adult is attacked and forced to have intercourse with someone, the baby she may carry is not a welcome one. In cases of incest, the baby is at high risk for mental and physical deformities that increase the hardship. In instances such as these, where the woman was not able to prevent the pregnancy, she should have the option to mend what she can of the life she had before the incident.
In conclusion, abortion is—rather should be—a woman’s choice. As Americans, we are guaranteed the right to make other decisions about our bodies, and family planning should be viewed no differently. Prevention by means of abstinence or contraceptive devices should come first, but if that fails then other ways of dealing with pregnancy need to be considered in the case of an unwanted fetus. Abortion should be a safe and legal option for women in America.
Decisions involving pregnancy and birth control involve a woman’s body and should be made by the woman and the father of the unborn child. It just makes sense. The woman and her sex partner may have failed to use a contraceptive device, but they still have a chance to prevent having children. Abortion should be the last resort for a pregnant woman, but that choice should be hers, not a group of primarily male congressmen who are too focused on the morals of the issue to understand the situation facing women across the country. If a woman has made the difficult decision to end her pregnancy, she should be respected for that choice and be treated like any other person seeking medical attention. She should not be made to view photographs of aborted babies or guilted into making an unwise decision. If giving birth to the baby poses health concerns for the mother, then abortion is the clear choice. The human who has evolved into her own “person” should always come first.
In too many cases, parents have a child when they aren’t ready for one, creating an unfortunate family situation for the child, who may be unloved and uncared for. When parents don’t want the child they are raising, parenthood is a burden of necessity rather than love and joy. Currently there are 10 million single mothers living in the U.S. (Source: http://www.census.gov/Press-Release/www/releases/archives/facts_for_features_special_editions/004109.html) most women who become pregnant before they are married are forced to sacrifice their education in order to support their children. The children are often raised on a minimum wage income and lack a father figure to guide them. When we attempt to solve problems in society like poverty, hunger, and teen pregnancy, we often fail to link these problems to one another.
Where abortion is made unlawful or frowned upon by a community, women desperate for a way out of motherhood may choose to perform an illegal abortion. When a woman attempts to abort the baby by inserting a clothes hanger into the uterus, eating herbal remedies or poisons, or trying to kill the fetus by beating her stomach—life-threatening complications such as infection and excessive bleeding can occur. If a woman is determined to end the pregnancy, she will do it even if it is against the law. We cannot turn away while women are hurting themselves to end a pregnancy while we have able doctors across the country willing to perform the procedure safely.
In instances of sexual abuse such as incest and rape, preventive methods are usually not options for the victim. If a teenage girl or adult is attacked and forced to have intercourse with someone, the baby she may carry is not a welcome one. In cases of incest, the baby is at high risk for mental and physical deformities that increase the hardship. In instances such as these, where the woman was not able to prevent the pregnancy, she should have the option to mend what she can of the life she had before the incident.
In conclusion, abortion is—rather should be—a woman’s choice. As Americans, we are guaranteed the right to make other decisions about our bodies, and family planning should be viewed no differently. Prevention by means of abstinence or contraceptive devices should come first, but if that fails then other ways of dealing with pregnancy need to be considered in the case of an unwanted fetus. Abortion should be a safe and legal option for women in America.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
WA2 Second Draft
Abortion is a topic frequently debated among politicians in the United States. For those who have not had to deal with decisions involving unwanted pregnancy, abortion can seem just “wrong” or “evil”. Abortion should be a legal option for women in America because the decision involves her body, women who are not ready to raise children should not be forced to raise or give them up, and making abortion illegal forces pregnant women to resort to dangerous, “home solutions” to an unwanted child.
Decisions involving pregnancy and birth control involve a woman’s body and life should be made by the woman and the father of the unborn child. It just makes sense. The woman and her sex partner may have failed to use a contraceptive device, but they still have a chance to prevent having children. Abortion should be the last resort for a pregnant woman, but that choice should be hers, not a group of primarily male congressmen who are too focused on the morals of the issue than the situation facing women across the country. If a woman has made the difficult decision not to take her baby to term, she should be respected for that choice and be treated like any other person seeking medical attention. She should not be made to view photographs of aborted babies or guilted into making an unwise decision. If giving birth to the baby poses health concerns for the mother, than abortion is the clear choice. The human who has evolved into their own “person” should always come first.
In too many cases, when parents have a child when they aren’t ready for one create an unfortunate family situation for the child, who may be unloved and uncared for. When parents don’t want the child they are raising, parenthood is a burden of necessity rather than love and joy. Currently there are 10 million single mothers living in the U.S. Most women who become pregnant before they are married are forced to sacrifice their education in order to support for their children. The children are often raised on a minimum wage income and lack a father figure to guide them. When we attempt to solve problems in society like poverty, hunger, and teen pregnancy, we often fail to link these problems to one another.
Where abortion is made unlawful or frowned upon by a community, women desperate for a way out of motherhood may choose to perform an illegal abortion. When a woman attempts to abort the baby by inserting a clothes hanger into the uterus, eating herbal remedies or poisons, or trying to kill the fetus by beating her stomach—life-threatening complications such as infection and excessive bleeding can occur. If a woman is determined to end the pregnancy, she will do it even if it is against the law. We cannot turn away while women are hurting themselves to end a pregnancy while we have able doctors across the country willing to perform the procedure safely.
In instances of sexual abuse such as incest and rape, preventive methods are usually not options for the victim. If a teenage girl or adult is attacked, and is forced to have intercourse with someone, the baby she may carry is not a welcome one. Though some women are willing to raise the child and can support him, many see the child as a painful reminder of the unintended pregnancy. In cases of incest, the baby is at high risk for mental and physical deformities that increase the hardship. In instances such as these, where the woman was not able to prevent the pregnancy, she should have the option to mend what she can of the life she had before the incident
In conclusion, abortion is—rather should be a woman’s choice. As Americans, we are guaranteed the right to make other decisions about our bodies, and family planning should be viewed no differently. Prevention by means of abstinence or contraceptive devices should come first, but if that fails then other ways of dealing with the problem need to be considered in the case of an unwanted fetus. This issue is so important because choosing whether or not have a child is a choice that affects the child and parents for the rest of her lives.
Decisions involving pregnancy and birth control involve a woman’s body and life should be made by the woman and the father of the unborn child. It just makes sense. The woman and her sex partner may have failed to use a contraceptive device, but they still have a chance to prevent having children. Abortion should be the last resort for a pregnant woman, but that choice should be hers, not a group of primarily male congressmen who are too focused on the morals of the issue than the situation facing women across the country. If a woman has made the difficult decision not to take her baby to term, she should be respected for that choice and be treated like any other person seeking medical attention. She should not be made to view photographs of aborted babies or guilted into making an unwise decision. If giving birth to the baby poses health concerns for the mother, than abortion is the clear choice. The human who has evolved into their own “person” should always come first.
In too many cases, when parents have a child when they aren’t ready for one create an unfortunate family situation for the child, who may be unloved and uncared for. When parents don’t want the child they are raising, parenthood is a burden of necessity rather than love and joy. Currently there are 10 million single mothers living in the U.S. Most women who become pregnant before they are married are forced to sacrifice their education in order to support for their children. The children are often raised on a minimum wage income and lack a father figure to guide them. When we attempt to solve problems in society like poverty, hunger, and teen pregnancy, we often fail to link these problems to one another.
Where abortion is made unlawful or frowned upon by a community, women desperate for a way out of motherhood may choose to perform an illegal abortion. When a woman attempts to abort the baby by inserting a clothes hanger into the uterus, eating herbal remedies or poisons, or trying to kill the fetus by beating her stomach—life-threatening complications such as infection and excessive bleeding can occur. If a woman is determined to end the pregnancy, she will do it even if it is against the law. We cannot turn away while women are hurting themselves to end a pregnancy while we have able doctors across the country willing to perform the procedure safely.
In instances of sexual abuse such as incest and rape, preventive methods are usually not options for the victim. If a teenage girl or adult is attacked, and is forced to have intercourse with someone, the baby she may carry is not a welcome one. Though some women are willing to raise the child and can support him, many see the child as a painful reminder of the unintended pregnancy. In cases of incest, the baby is at high risk for mental and physical deformities that increase the hardship. In instances such as these, where the woman was not able to prevent the pregnancy, she should have the option to mend what she can of the life she had before the incident
In conclusion, abortion is—rather should be a woman’s choice. As Americans, we are guaranteed the right to make other decisions about our bodies, and family planning should be viewed no differently. Prevention by means of abstinence or contraceptive devices should come first, but if that fails then other ways of dealing with the problem need to be considered in the case of an unwanted fetus. This issue is so important because choosing whether or not have a child is a choice that affects the child and parents for the rest of her lives.
Sunday, October 7, 2007
WA2 first draft
Abortion is a topic frequently debated between politicians in the United States. For those who have not had to deal with decisions involving unwanted pregnancy, abortion can seem just “wrong” or “evil”. This issue is so important because choosing whether or not to abort one’s baby is a choice that affects the child and parents for the rest of her lives. When we attempt to solve problems in society like poverty, hunger, and teen pregnancy, we often fail to link these problems to one another. Abortion is should be a legal option for women in America because the decision involves her body and should therefore be her choice and making abortion illegal forces pregnant women to resort to dangerous, “home solutions” to an unwanted child.
Decisions involving pregnancy and birth control involve a woman’s body and life should be made by the woman and the father of the unborn child. It just makes sense. The woman and her sex partner may have failed to use a contraceptive device, but they still have a chance to prevent having children. In so many cases, a child when the parents aren’t ready for one create a bad family situation for the child, who may be unloved and uncared for and for the parents, who are forced to raise a child they do not want. Currently there are 10 million single mothers living in the U.S. Most women who become pregnant before they are married are forced to sacrifice their education in order to support for their children. The children are raised on a low income and lack a father figure to guide them. Abortion should be the last resort for a pregnant woman, but that choice should be hers, not a group of primarily male congressmen who are too focused on the morals of the issue than the situation facing women across the country.
Where abortion is made unlawful or frowned upon by a community, women desperate for a way out of motherhood may choose to perform an illegal abortion. When a woman attempts to abort the baby by inserting a clotheshanger into the uterus, eating herbal remedies or poisons, or trying to kill the fetus by beating her stomach—serious complications such as infection, excessive bleeding, and even death can occur. If a woman is determined to terminate the pregnancy, she will do it even if it is against the law. We cannot turn the other cheek when women are hurting themselves to abort the baby while we have able doctors across the country willing to perform the procedure safely.
In conclusion, abortion is—rather should be a woman’s choice. As Americans, we are guaranteed the right to make other decisions about our bodies, and family planning should be viewed no differently. If a woman has made the difficult decision not to take her baby to term, she should be respected for that choice and be treated like any other person seeking medical attention. She should not be made to view photographs of aborted babies or guilted into making an unwise decision. If giving birth to the baby poses health concerns for the mother, than abortion is the clear choice. The human who has evolved into their own “person” should come first. Prevention by means of abstinence or contraceptive devices should come first, but if that fails then other ways of dealing with the problem need to be considered in the case of an unwanted fetus.
Decisions involving pregnancy and birth control involve a woman’s body and life should be made by the woman and the father of the unborn child. It just makes sense. The woman and her sex partner may have failed to use a contraceptive device, but they still have a chance to prevent having children. In so many cases, a child when the parents aren’t ready for one create a bad family situation for the child, who may be unloved and uncared for and for the parents, who are forced to raise a child they do not want. Currently there are 10 million single mothers living in the U.S. Most women who become pregnant before they are married are forced to sacrifice their education in order to support for their children. The children are raised on a low income and lack a father figure to guide them. Abortion should be the last resort for a pregnant woman, but that choice should be hers, not a group of primarily male congressmen who are too focused on the morals of the issue than the situation facing women across the country.
Where abortion is made unlawful or frowned upon by a community, women desperate for a way out of motherhood may choose to perform an illegal abortion. When a woman attempts to abort the baby by inserting a clotheshanger into the uterus, eating herbal remedies or poisons, or trying to kill the fetus by beating her stomach—serious complications such as infection, excessive bleeding, and even death can occur. If a woman is determined to terminate the pregnancy, she will do it even if it is against the law. We cannot turn the other cheek when women are hurting themselves to abort the baby while we have able doctors across the country willing to perform the procedure safely.
In conclusion, abortion is—rather should be a woman’s choice. As Americans, we are guaranteed the right to make other decisions about our bodies, and family planning should be viewed no differently. If a woman has made the difficult decision not to take her baby to term, she should be respected for that choice and be treated like any other person seeking medical attention. She should not be made to view photographs of aborted babies or guilted into making an unwise decision. If giving birth to the baby poses health concerns for the mother, than abortion is the clear choice. The human who has evolved into their own “person” should come first. Prevention by means of abstinence or contraceptive devices should come first, but if that fails then other ways of dealing with the problem need to be considered in the case of an unwanted fetus.
Sunday, September 30, 2007
WA1 third draft
Last weekend I went to a Virginia state park campground with my Girl Scout troop. Yes, I am still a Girl Scout. I joined in 3rd grade after all my friends were already members, and we’ve been together ever since.
As our lives get busier and our once…. Friendships are shaped but the cliques and social ladder of high school life, the desire to take time on a Saturday to complete a badge or volunteer at the local soup kitchen wearing our sashes and pins wanes. I have found, though, that with maturity comes the confidence to do what you are compassionate about. When I think of the people I care about, respect and are awed by—they are all individuals who know what they want and aren’t afraid to be themselves. Popularity no longer seems to be the goal in the social scene—but meeting new people and building lasting friendships is.
This past weekend, my troop led by three parents of the girls I feel like I have known forever, went to the James River State Park for one night. It was a great experience on many levels. The few girls with whom I normally go not get along with incredibly well, seemed more accepting of me and I of them.
We planned on going tubing down the James River, a journey that would take about 3 hours to complete. We all jumped into the cool river and climbed onto our yellow tubes. The temperature of the water, the early fall weather—everything was perfect. We slathered in sunscreen, just to be safe. We drifted down the river very, very slowly. Sometimes one of us would have to get out and push. One of my friends, and fellow troop member, was very sleepy from a long night of marching band and sports, slept almost the entire time we were on the river. One of us noticed she was stuck in the reeds ahead so I got out and pushed her ahead, only for her do get caught up again. We decided to tie her to our clump of tubes and she dragged along behind us for about an hour oblivious to the laughter and splashing water.
Eventually we hooked our tubes together, using our tennis shoes and life jackets. We made a ring and floated down, talking about various things. It occurred to me as we were drifting down the river how much these people meant to me. The “girl scout law” says to be a sister to every Girl Scout. I used to think that was cheesy. I still think it is. But the people in that group sort of are my sisters, in a way. I am an only child, so I don’t know what its like to have a blood-related sibling. Having friends in a Girl Scout troop is something special, because you know they will always be there for you, even when other friends aren’t. I am a pretty emotional person and tend to get teary-eyed over things.
On this carefree day of enjoying burnt campfire food, the sunny weather, and one another’s company, a sad thought crossed my mind. As we trudged up the riverbank at the end of our journey, I realized how hard it will be in three years to say goodbye to my sisters in the troop.
As our lives get busier and our once…. Friendships are shaped but the cliques and social ladder of high school life, the desire to take time on a Saturday to complete a badge or volunteer at the local soup kitchen wearing our sashes and pins wanes. I have found, though, that with maturity comes the confidence to do what you are compassionate about. When I think of the people I care about, respect and are awed by—they are all individuals who know what they want and aren’t afraid to be themselves. Popularity no longer seems to be the goal in the social scene—but meeting new people and building lasting friendships is.
This past weekend, my troop led by three parents of the girls I feel like I have known forever, went to the James River State Park for one night. It was a great experience on many levels. The few girls with whom I normally go not get along with incredibly well, seemed more accepting of me and I of them.
We planned on going tubing down the James River, a journey that would take about 3 hours to complete. We all jumped into the cool river and climbed onto our yellow tubes. The temperature of the water, the early fall weather—everything was perfect. We slathered in sunscreen, just to be safe. We drifted down the river very, very slowly. Sometimes one of us would have to get out and push. One of my friends, and fellow troop member, was very sleepy from a long night of marching band and sports, slept almost the entire time we were on the river. One of us noticed she was stuck in the reeds ahead so I got out and pushed her ahead, only for her do get caught up again. We decided to tie her to our clump of tubes and she dragged along behind us for about an hour oblivious to the laughter and splashing water.
Eventually we hooked our tubes together, using our tennis shoes and life jackets. We made a ring and floated down, talking about various things. It occurred to me as we were drifting down the river how much these people meant to me. The “girl scout law” says to be a sister to every Girl Scout. I used to think that was cheesy. I still think it is. But the people in that group sort of are my sisters, in a way. I am an only child, so I don’t know what its like to have a blood-related sibling. Having friends in a Girl Scout troop is something special, because you know they will always be there for you, even when other friends aren’t. I am a pretty emotional person and tend to get teary-eyed over things.
On this carefree day of enjoying burnt campfire food, the sunny weather, and one another’s company, a sad thought crossed my mind. As we trudged up the riverbank at the end of our journey, I realized how hard it will be in three years to say goodbye to my sisters in the troop.
Monday, September 24, 2007
WA1 second draft
Last weekend I went to a Virginia state park campground with my Girl Scout troop. Yes, I am still Girl Scout. Be prepared—that’s our motto. I joined in 3rd grade after all my friends were already members.
As our lives getlllll busier and our once…. Friend ships are somewhat lllll but the cliques and lllll of high school life, the desire to take time on a Saturday to complete a badge or volunteer at the local soup kitchen wearing our sashes and pins wanes. I have found, though, that with maturity comes the confidence to do what you are compassionate about. In reality, the be yourself motto of girl scouts becomes what any girl wants. When I think of the people I care about, respect and are awed by—they are all individuals who know what they want and aren’t afraid to be themselves. Popular no longer seems to be the goal in the social scene—but meeting new people and building lasting friendships is.
This past weekend, my troop led by three parents of the girls I feel like I have known forever, went to the games river state park for one night it was a great experience on many level. Girls, with whom I normally go not get along with incredibly well, seamed more accepting with me and I with them.
We planned on going tubing down the James River, a journey that would take about 3 hours to complete. We all got our yellow tubes and got into the water. We were all slathered in sunscreen—just to be safe. We drifted down the river very, very slowly. Sometimes one of us would have to get out and push. One girl, every sleepy from long night of band marching band and sports slept almost the entire time we were on the river. One of us notices she was stuck in the reeds ahead so I got out and pushed her ahead. Only for her do get caught up again. We decided to tie her to our clump of tubes and she dragged along behind us for about an hour oblivious to the laughter and splashing water, which carries on the river so well.
Eventually we hooked our tubes together used our tennis shoes and life jackets. We made a ring and floated down, talking about various things. It occurred to me as we were drifting down the river how much these people meant to me. The “girl scout law” says to be a sister to every Girl Scout. I used to think that was cheesy. I guess it sort of is. But the people in that group sort of are my sisters. I am an only child so don’t know what its like to have a blood-related sibling. I am a pretty sentimental person and tend to get teary-eyed over things. I realized how hard it will be in three years to say goodbye to my sisters in the troop.
As our lives getlllll busier and our once…. Friend ships are somewhat lllll but the cliques and lllll of high school life, the desire to take time on a Saturday to complete a badge or volunteer at the local soup kitchen wearing our sashes and pins wanes. I have found, though, that with maturity comes the confidence to do what you are compassionate about. In reality, the be yourself motto of girl scouts becomes what any girl wants. When I think of the people I care about, respect and are awed by—they are all individuals who know what they want and aren’t afraid to be themselves. Popular no longer seems to be the goal in the social scene—but meeting new people and building lasting friendships is.
This past weekend, my troop led by three parents of the girls I feel like I have known forever, went to the games river state park for one night it was a great experience on many level. Girls, with whom I normally go not get along with incredibly well, seamed more accepting with me and I with them.
We planned on going tubing down the James River, a journey that would take about 3 hours to complete. We all got our yellow tubes and got into the water. We were all slathered in sunscreen—just to be safe. We drifted down the river very, very slowly. Sometimes one of us would have to get out and push. One girl, every sleepy from long night of band marching band and sports slept almost the entire time we were on the river. One of us notices she was stuck in the reeds ahead so I got out and pushed her ahead. Only for her do get caught up again. We decided to tie her to our clump of tubes and she dragged along behind us for about an hour oblivious to the laughter and splashing water, which carries on the river so well.
Eventually we hooked our tubes together used our tennis shoes and life jackets. We made a ring and floated down, talking about various things. It occurred to me as we were drifting down the river how much these people meant to me. The “girl scout law” says to be a sister to every Girl Scout. I used to think that was cheesy. I guess it sort of is. But the people in that group sort of are my sisters. I am an only child so don’t know what its like to have a blood-related sibling. I am a pretty sentimental person and tend to get teary-eyed over things. I realized how hard it will be in three years to say goodbye to my sisters in the troop.
Sunday, September 16, 2007
WA1 first draft
Last weekend I went to a Virginia state park with my Girl Scout troop. Yes, I am still in a Girl Scout troop. I joined in 3rd grade after all my friends had already joined. We planned on going tubing down the James River, a journey that would take about 3 hours to complete. We all got our yellow tubes and got into the water. We were all slathered in sunscreen—just to be safe. We drifted down the river very, very slowly. Sometimes one of us would have to get out and push. Eventually we hooked our tubes together used our tennis shoes and life jackets. We made a ring and floated down, talking about various things. It occurred to me as we were drifting down the river how much these people meant to me. The “girl scout law” says to be a sister to every Girl Scout. I used to think that was cheesy. I guess it sort of is. But the people in that group sort of are my sisters. I am an only child so don’t know what its like to have a blood-related sibling. I am a pretty sentimental person and tend to get teary-eyed over things. I realized how hard it will be in three years to say goodbye to my sisters in the troop.
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