What We Think Hurts Will Only Benefit Us

Assignment: Write a Profile of a person or a group. Focus on some specific aspect that is noteworthy.

         Numerous pieces of paper lay in between a homework agenda on the floor in front of the bedroom of one of the most studious men I know. After all the work I had to get done from an elementary charter school, I had even more work, this time it was from my father. " Leave your homework in front of my door so that when I come home from work at eleven-thirty, we can go over it," said Mr.Simplice. A stubborn man that came from nothing, he grew up on the farm, and the only way out of all the misery he was going through was education. He was tough, sometimes a little too tough.
"What strives you to be so studious?" I asked. " I wanted something better for my self, something different than my peers, and my family," replied Mr. Simplice. He did anything and everything to achieve his goal. Having his eyes droop down to his cheeks, waking up before the sun, and being drenched before entering each class all were second nature to this man. " You Americans have it easy, I use to stand in class to write my notes," Mr. Simplice added. Speaking to him, you can see the passion in his eyes, the pain of his past, and the sanctification of his present life.
Jefferson was an engineer from Port-au-Prince, Haiti who wasn't on a mission for the American Dream for himself, but rather to open more opportunities for an american dream for his children. Mr. Simplice was on a mission to make his children either equal or even better men than he was. Surely the idea of becoming like him almost sounded like a far reach for us. Mr. Simplice was feared, a serious guy that was always respected among his people. After the numerous amount of loss in sleep it was apparent that school came before anything else. He would come home late at night with no sign of tiredness, and ready to disrupt us all from our sleep.We as Kids use to moan and groan with restless faces when he asked to go over our homework with us.
I was done with my homework early one night, exhausted to the point that I slurring my words. I went to sleep early in peace, comfortably in my bed, and unexpectedly my father woke me up. Still in his engineer uniform, fingers covered in oil, and hair disoriented. We sat on the table across from each other. He skimmed through everything and specifically the math. Sadly that day I made numerous mistakes on my math homework. We went over each question, and once I understood it he created extra examples so I could further master it." The child has school in the morning let him go to sleep," said my Mother. He pushed me more, and more, and more to the point that I spent more time listening to his lectures than my own teacher's.
Ever since then, what seemed to be miserable moments were only benefiting us all. School was always primary. The number's on my test's were high."Why are you so hard on us?" I asked. "I am not being hard on you, the things I do will only benefit you for the future, and some day you will thank me," said Mr. Simplice. My father's struggles have made him who he is, and he strives to instill the same hunger he has in all of his children. As far as education goes, my father is a machine, and we his children were being manufactured. At the end of every term I handed him every report card I ever received and he is always pleased to sign it.

An Embarrassment That Led to Success

              I was only a Junior in High School. A strong meaty young man but, yet still I had more developing to do in order to conquer the sport I truly loved. The love of my life was and still is, football. Unlike some of my classmates, I was still fifteen years old. You could never tell if you saw me. My birthday is on October, the 13th, so in the middle of the chilly season everyone would shockingly wish me a happy birthday with the same dumbfounded and disfigured facial expression. I was young but, I played like a big kid. Age was only a number to me. Everyone in my class were older than me but, I was always bigger in mass. I was one hell of a physical player, I mastered the arts of having no fear against any competitor  I never slowed down in contact, I was like a fright train. Although I was physical and fearless, I had one problem, and that was mastering the techniques and logistics of how to even play football. Some days I looked like a chicken with its head cutoff, running wild, and filling the wrong gaps on defense. My weakness was apparent to one man in particular, a man that I still despise but, yet I am grateful for his presence in my life.
              There was this new coach that had arrived in the middle of the season. Throughout the whole year he took a step back as an observatory, almost like a coach on an intern or something. Like a creeper with the the brim of his hat sitting right above his eyebrows that always stood behind the current coaching staff of that time. So no one really knew him. His name was Coach Bonn. He was a chubby guy, but he always seemed to be angry at the world. You know one of those fun sized guys that thought they were bigger and badder than everyone else. He was five foot six. Sadly, he was promoted to be the defensive coordinator the upcoming year. I had a bad feeling about him, plus I definitely made the wrong impression based on my performance. Making mistakes were vivid to this particular coach, and those mistakes alone changed my life in certain ways that I could never imagine.
            During the brutal winter on a hard working day in the weight room, I was drenched in my own sweat as my biceps were glistening in the light almost as if I was covered in baby oil. So in the conditions that I was in I decided to go pretend to get some water and flirt with the cheerleaders, where they always stood and chatted while taking a break. As I was sipping the ice cold water, guess who makes an appearance? Coach Bonn. He introduces himself and says, "You know this year your performance was a little soft". That word alone cause me to sweat in embarrassment around the cheerleaders that I was near, causing me to boil in anger as each and every vein in my body were pulsating. I was vexed.
             Every day after that, I never took a break. Everyday was a grind. The weight room became my second home. I would start working out in the sunny day, and leave when it would be dark.I had more energy than the energizer bunny.The playbook became my bible, and inside all you can see are written notes and audibles coach would add into the playbook every week. I began to work countless hours in the gym, sneaking back in the weight room even after it was closed. Every week the thump of me dropping the dumbbells became louder and louder as the weight continued to increase. After, a normal day of training my muscles would pulsate uncontrollably wanting to escape the confined area trapped by my skin. I was always in pain but being sore was only a sign of improvement  The only reason I put in all of this effort was because I hated who I once was. I wanted greatness. I figured that I would earn the most respect from my coaches and teammates when no one was around to see.
             Surely, I became bigger, faster, and stronger but, most importantly I became wiser. In one year I gained over fifteen pounds in muscle and knew every formation and audible inside and out. I started on varsity again my senior year. On each and every play, whether it was practice or not, not one person has ever gave more effort than I have in anything play by play. I sprinted every play, grunted every tackle, screamed every tackle for a loss of yardage. I was on a mission, and that mission was to convert ever non- believer. You can see the focus in my eye's. Coach Bonn's motivational words taught me a lot, it taught me that there was a way out of making repetitive mistakes, it was hard work.

I Am The Man

       What personal characteristics do you possess that would make you a good Health-Care provider? Give some examples from your experiences that show your characteristics in practice?
     
         Giving, Giving is what I enjoy doing and not because I have to but, cause I want to. Serving others make me feel better about myself.  I believe that  making a difference is worth more and lasts much longer than a check. I am the person to provide health care for your company because to me it isn't a job, it’s an enjoyable lifestyle. The values I attain are distinct from everyone else, you will never find any other applicant like myself.
        Starting at the age of ten years old till this day I gave my time at a local nursing home/ health care center that my mother use to work for. My presence alone made all the elderly patients feel special. Just to know that someone cares can soothe any one's heart into peace. At the Nursing home I was an active member of the activities center where I would communicate with the patients, play games with them, and even create games.  While other young children had extra hours of sleep, I was up at six in the morning to volunteer. By the end of my senior year of High School I accomplished to finish over three hundred hours of community service.
         Living on the edge and thinking on my toes is what I do on day to day bases. Creative thoughts flow through my mind constantly and I can bring views to the table that no one would even think about. For example, In High School I was the President and founder of two clubs. These two clubs aimed to attribute peace and unity within the school, fixing daily issues of personal differences by bringing people together.
I am also kind, patient, and understanding of every individual trait that diverse people may bring to the table. This enables me to communicate pretty thoroughly with various cultures and personalities. When communicating to a customer, I can almost make them feel at home, and surely they will all have faith in the things I do or say. Some people speak, and immediately you can tell that they are just doing it for the job. My personal voice is capable to establish a certain level of comfort ability between a customer and myself. That's what set's me apart.
           Surely I am no ordinary applicant; my experience brings me the confidence to know how to handle our patients, and the ability to start right now. Give me a scenario, and I will tell you how I would go about it. The extra effort that I put in and the qualities I have will surely make me stand out as an applicant. Bottom line is if you want to succeed, choose me.

Deep Into The Diary of Anne Frank

             As real as a book can get, The Diary of Anne Frank was found in the attic of the Frank family where sadly she spent her last moments alive. Anne Frank is a young Jewish girl, and during the 1940’s Germany invaded The Netherlands, France, and Belgium with a mission to make the Jewish culture extinct. The Germans blamed the Jews for the loss of World War I. Cause of this Anne suffers mentally and physically solely upon her belief of Judaism. Her story will send a message to the whole world, teaching the qualities of peace and unity, and how the power of one’s belief can abrupt a whole nation. She is sharing to us what she overcame, and the human courage that she withheld. I would consider the genre of the story to be an autobiography or even non-fiction. She writes each and every word but I realized that the editor of the story makes an extreme effort to fulfill a missing era in The Diary, which causes a slight confusion of what happens to Anne during World War II.

Since, we are only speaking about the book, it is appropriate to label the genre as an autobiography because Anne is speaking about her own life day by day. This story speaks in a first person point of view. What is felt, heard, and seen is all described through Anne Frank’s eyes. This fact alone attaches a reader in a way to make he or she almost believe that they are going through the same emotions that in this case Anne frank was going through. That's almost how I felt as well but, the skip in time almost made me feel transported into the future.

            I was very intrigued by the story. The authentic facts viewed through the eyes of a victim were very engaging. I did notice the missing period and the efforts from the editor to fill that era. Her First Diary ends in December of 1942, then it goes onto her second diary, which starts the next year in December 1943 and continues onto April 1944, therefore; we must assume that there is a lost section between December 1942 and December 1943. What happened to it, in fact what happened to her? All we know is her tough triumph and tribulations end on March 12, 1945. Where death may bring her more peace than her being alive.