Read the book chapter, “A Special Kind of Unity” by James Beane. Address the…
SOLUTION AT Australian Expert Writers
Read the book chapter, “A Special Kind of Unity” by James Beane. Address the questions below in your reflection. Be sure to reference the article in your responses.1) Describe the four dimensions of curriculum integration.2) What is a separate-subject approach? What is a multidisciplinary approach? How are these two approaches different? How are they similar?3) What is curriculum integration? How is curriculum integration different than a multidisciplinary approach?5) What is child-centered curriculum? Here is the book https://mehrmohammadi.ir/wp-content/uploads/2019/07/Curriculum-Integration_-Designi-James-A.-Beane.pdf
finish the story below and use high level language and use own words. The icy raindrops were beating upon them,
finish the story below and use high level language and use own words. The icy raindrops were beating upon them, drenched but unrelenting, they had to find Tommy, their dog. Jonas and Jean had spent the whole day camping, it was already late, but they could not get home without Tommy. The moon hanging about them like the grim reaper, they found an old, rusty abandoned car and huddled themselves in, Tommy had apparently sped off after a squirrel, but the Gaspo was now creeping with all sorts of creatures, the hyaena was now laughing seemingly at them, the old castle was still standing, The residents believed it to be haunted by a ghost and other unclean creatures, The longer man’s house was nearby, but he was not around probably having gone out for a beer at the local pub since it was only seven o’clock. Once the drenching rain subsided they got out of their hideout and got deeper in the expanse of great oaks and ciders which formed the composition of the Gaspo; Legends say that the lions that lived there before it’s encroachment had three heads end six legs. The man-eaters were called gaspos after the name of the forest. The teenagers knew it was not the place to be at midnight, the wind was now howling against the ciders, and dark shadows were emerging. Jean looked at Jonas doubtfully and suggested that they give up the search and get back home before the neighbourhood they lived came searching for them, but it was too late, two dark forms approached them, the night sky was not littered with even a single star and the heavy mist was still hanging. As they struggled to see these shapes a big fowler’s net fell on them, and they were now trapped in the net, they heard heavy thuds and splashings on the wet marsh and the pools of water that had collected after the downpour. A people tall, with monkey faces and tails stared down at them. They looked back in shock, horror and disbelief. These were no costumes. One of them, speaking in a strange tongue, ordered for them to be carried their headquarters. Amid protests, they were hanged between a strong bamboo pole that would support their weight. By now, the whole neighbourhood was now awake, and a search party started. Their disappearance had not brought any small stir for David Fosters was a leading citizen and a nominated candidate for the senatorial race in two months time. Local investigators said that it was a kidnapping, or that they were dead and their lifeless disposed of in the depths of Gaspo since it was prevalent for gangsters and organised criminals to dispose of the corpses their enemies and competitors for the local drug trafficking ring. Gun violence was predominant in this neighbourhood…
1. Why is corrections the least covered aspect of criminal justice by the media? 2. Under what circumstances do prisons
1. Why is corrections the least covered aspect of criminal justice by the media? 2. Under what circumstances do prisons get covered in the news?3. How do politicians “use” the mainstream media to get their messages out to the public?4. What are the major goals of punishment in the U.S.? Are these goals achieved?
AmiraMy conciousness is lulledRacing through oceans and milesNibbling over my fingersThe number of days and months Tracing in anxietyThrough the
AmiraMy conciousness is lulledRacing through oceans and milesNibbling over my fingersThe number of days and months Tracing in anxietyThrough the mirror of my mindThe image of the infantI couldn’t helpBut leave behindHer voice and cryAre now all echoesBeing reviewed in my skullHopelessly capturing a sightOf her growing upAn unfolding so beautifulThat I will never witness At all.Answer the following.1.Who could be the persona in the poem?2.What seems to be the conflicting situation being experienced by the persona?3.How does the persona feel about the situation?4.What is prevailing emotion exhibited in the lines of the poem?5.What sensory images are evident based on the poems lines?
which method (inductive or deductive) is the best way to deliver bad news. Defend your answer. which method (inductive or
English Assignment Writing Servicewhich method (inductive or deductive) is the best way to deliver bad news. Defend your answer. which method (inductive or deductive) it most closely resembles and explain why the author chose to deliver the bad news (Travel Request Denial). What change(s) would you make if you were required to deliver the same message to someone else?Subject: Travel Request DenialI regret to inform you that your request for travel funds to travel to the Syllabus Conference in Santa Clara, California, has been denied. The university has limited funds available for travel this year and although I know you really want to go, I can’t afford to give you the $1500 you requested (which by the way is a lot to request at this late date at the current time of this request.I hope you understand our position because we really want our faculty to be happy. Even though I can’t pay for this trip, I encourage you to apply again for future travel money because I hope to receive more money budgeted for travel the next fiscal year of 2000/2001.Thank you again for your request. I always strive to help faculty fund their travels.https://web.ics.purdue.edu/~pbawa/421/examples of bad news memos.htm
1.explain the roles and modalities of volunteerism in private sector. 2.what are the correct uses of titles for commissioned officer’s
1.explain the roles and modalities of volunteerism in private sector. 2.what are the correct uses of titles for commissioned officer’s and non commissioned personnel of AFP? 3.differentiate between mission and functions of AFP from Philippine airforce. 4. when to salute and when not to salute? 5.what instance/s does half-mast is a must? 6.what does military means?
 Monday is no different from any other week dayin Jefferson now. The streets are paved now, and the telephone
 Monday is no different from any other week dayin Jefferson now. The streets are paved now, and the telephone and the electric companies arecutting down more and more of the shade trees— the water oaks, the maples and locusts andelms — to make room for iron poles bearingclusters of bloated and ghostly and bloodlessgrapes, and we have a city laundry which makesthe rounds on Monday morning, gathering thebundles of clothes into bright-colored, speciallymade motor-cars: the soiled wearing of a wholeweek now flees apparition-like behind alert andirritable electric horns, with a long diminishingnoise of rubber and asphalt like a tearing of silk,and even the Negro women who still take in white peoples’ washing after the old custom, fetch anddeliver it in automobiles.But fifteen years ago, on Monday morning the quiet, dusty, shady streets would be full of Negrowomen with, balanced on their steady turbaned heads, bundles of clothes tied up in sheets, almost aslarge as cotton bales, carried so without touch of hand between the kitchen door of the white houseand the blackened wash-pot beside a cabin door in Negro Hollow.Nancy would set her bundle on the top of her head, then upon the bundle in turn she would set theblack straw sailor hat which she wore winter and summer. She was tall, with a high, sad face sunken alittle where her teeth were missing. Sometimes we would go a part of the way down the lane andacross the pasture with her, to watch the balanced bundle and the hat that never bobbed nor wavered,even when she walked down into the ditch and climbed out again and stooped through the fence. Shewould go down on her hands and knees and crawl through the gap, her head rigid, up-tilted, thebundle steady as a rock or a balloon, and rise to her feet and go on.Sometimes the husbands of the washing women would fetch and deliver the clothes, but Jubah neverdid that for Nancy, even before father told him to stay away from our house, even when Dilsey was sickand Nancy would come to cook for us. And then about half the time we’d have to go down the lane to Nancy’s house and tell her to come onand get breakfast. We would stop at the ditch, because father told us to not have anything to do withJubah — he was a short black man, with a razor scar down his face — and we would throw rocks atNancy’s house until she came to the door leaning her head around it without any clothes on.”What yawl mean, chunking my house?” Nancy said. “What you little devils mean?””Father says for you to come and get breakfast,” Caddy said. “Father says it’s over a half an hour now,and you’ve got to come this minute.””I ain’t studying no breakfast,” Nancy laid. “I going to get my sleep out.””I bet you’re drunk,” Jason said. “Father says you’re drunk. Are you drunk, Nancy?” “Who says I is?” Nancy said. “I got to get my sleep out. I ain’t studying no breakfast.”So after a while we quit chunking the house and went back home. When she finally came, it was toolate for me to go to school.So we thought it was whiskey until that day when they arrested her again and they were taking her tojail and they passed Mr. Stovall. He was the cashier in the bank and a deacon in the Baptist church, andNancy began to say:”When you going to pay me, white man? When you going to pay me, white man? It’s been three timesnow since you paid me a cent-” Mr. Stovall knocked her down, but she kept on saying, “When you goingto pay me, white man? It’s been three times now since —” until Mr. Stovall kicked her in the mouth withhis heel and the marshal caught Mr. Stovall back, and Nancy lying in the street, laughing. She turnedher head and spat out some blood and teeth and said, “It’s been three times now since he paid me acent.”That was how she lost her teeth, and all that day they told about Nancy and Mr. Stovall, and all thatnight the ones that passed the jail could hear Nancy singing and yelling. They could see her handsholding to the window bars, and a lot of them stopped along the fence, listening to her and to the jailertrying to make her shut up. She didn’t shut up until just before daylight, when the jailer began to hear abumping and scraping upstairs and he went up there and found Nancy hanging from the window bar.He said that it was cocaine and not whiskey, because no nigger would try to commit suicide unless hewas full of cocaine, because a nigger full of cocaine was not a nigger any longer. The jailer cut her down and revived her; then he beat her, whipped her. She had hung herself with herdress. She had fixed it all right, but when they arrested her she didn’t have on anything except a dressand so she didn’t have anything to tie her hands with and she couldn’t make her hands let go of thewindow ledge. So the jailer heard the noise and ran up there and found Nancy hanging from thewindow, stark naked.When Dilsey was sick in her cabin and Nancy was cooking for us, we could see her apron swelling out;that was before father told Jubah to stay away from the house. Jubah was in the kitchen, sitting behindthe stove, with his razor scar on his black face like a piece of dirty string. He said it was a watermelonNancy had under her dress. And it was winter, too.”Where did you get a watermelon in the winter,” Caddy said.”I didn’t,” Jubah said. “It wasn’t me that give it to her. But I can cut it down, same as if it was.””What makes you want to talk that way before these chillen?” Nancy said. “Whyn’t you go on to work?You done et. You want Mr. Jason to catch you hanging around his kitchen, talking that way before thesechillen?” “Talking what way, Nancy?” Caddy said.”I can’t hang around white man’s kitchen,” Jubah said. “But white man can hang around mine. Whiteman can come in my house, but I can’t stop him. When white man want to come in my house, I ain’t gotno house. I can’t stop him, but he can’t kick me outen it. He can’t do that.”Dilsey was still sick in her cabin. Father told Jubah to stay off our place. Dilsey was still sick. It was along time. We were in the library after supper.”Isn’t Nancy through yet?” mother said. “It seems to me that she has had plenty of time to have finishedthe dishes.””Let Quentin go and see,” father said. “Go and see if Nancy is through, Quentin. Tell her she can go onhome.” I went to the kitchen. Nancy was through. The dishes were put away and the fire was out. Nancy wassitting in a chair, close to the cold stove. She looked at me.”Mother wants to know if you are through,” I said.”Yes,” Nancy said. She looked at me. “I done finished.” She looked at me.”What is it?” I said. What is it?” “I ain’t nothing but a nigger,” Nancy said. “It ain’t none of my fault.”She looked at me, sitting in the chair before the cold stove, the sailor hat on her head. I went back tothe library. It was the cold stove and all, when you think of a kitchen being warm and busy andcheerful. And with a cold stove and the dishes all put away, and nobody wanting to eat at that hour.”Is she through?” mother said.”Yessum,” I said.”What is she doing?” mother said.”She’s not doing anything. She’s through.” “I’ll go and see,” father said.”Maybe she’s waiting for Jubah to come and take her home,” Caddy said.”Jubah is gone,” I said. Nancy told us how one morning she woke up and Jubah was gone.”He quit me,” Nancy said. “Done gone to Memphis, I reckon. Dodging them city po-lice for a while, Ireckon.””And a good riddance,” father said. “I hope he stays there.” “Nancy’s scaired of the dark,” Jason said.”So are you,” Caddy said.”I’m not,” Jason said.”Scairy cat,” Caddy said.”I’m not,” Jason said. “You, Candace!” mother said. Father came back.”I am going to walk down the lane with Nancy,” he said. “She says Jubah is back.””Has she seen him?” mother said.”No. Some Negro sent her word that he was back in town. I won’t be long.””You’ll leave me alone, to take Nancy home?” mother said. “Is her safety more precious to you thanmine?” “I won’t be long,” father said.”You’ll leave these children unprotected, with that Negro about?””I’m going, too,” Caddy said. “Let me go, father.””What would he do with them, if he were unfortunate enough to have them?” father said.”I want to go, too,” Jason said. “Jason!” mother said. She was speaking to father. You could tell that by the way she said it. Like shebelieved that all day father had been trying to think of doing the thing that she wouldn’t like the most,and that she knew all the time that after a while he would think of it. I stayed quiet, because father andI both knew that mother would want him to make me stay with her, if she just thought of it in time. Sofather didn’t look at me. I was the oldest. I was nine and Caddy was seven and Jason was five.”Nonsense,” father said. “We won’t be long.”Nancy had her hat on. We came to the lane. “Jubah always been good to me,” Nancy said. “Wheneverhe had two dollars, one of them was mine.” We walked in the lane. “If I can just get through the lane,”Nancy said, “I be all right then.”The lane was always dark. “This is where Jason got scared on Hallowe’en,” Caddy said.”I didn’t,” Jason said. “Can’t Aunt Rachel do-anything with him?” father said. Aunt Rachel was old. She lived in a cabin beyondNancy’s, by herself. She had white hair and she smoked a pipe in the door, all day long; she didn’t workany more. They said she was Jubah’s mother. Sometimes she said she was and sometimes she said shewasn’t any kin to Jubah.”Yes, you did,” Caddy said. “You were scairder than Frony. You were scairder than T.P. even. Scairderthan niggers.””Can’t nobody do nothing with him,” Nancy said. “He say I done woke up the devil in him, and ain’t butone thing going to lay it again.””Well, he’s gone now,” father said. “There’s nothing for you to be afraid of now. And if you’d just letwhite men alone.””Let what white men alone?” Caddy said. “How let them alone?” “He ain’t gone nowhere,” Nancy said. “I can feel him. I can feel him now, in this lane. He hearing us talk,every word, hid somewhere, waiting. I ain’t seen him, and I ain’t going to see him again but once more,with that razor. That razor on that string down his back, inside his shirt. And then I ain’t going to beeven surprised.””I wasn’t scaired,” Jason said.”If you’d behave yourself, you’d have kept out of this,” father said. “But it’s all right now. He’s probablyin St. Louis now. Probably got another wife by now and forgot all about you.””If he has, I better not find out about it,” Nancy said. “I’d stand there and every time he wropped her,I’d cut that arm off. I’d cut his head off and I’d slit her belly and I’d shove —””Hush,” father said. “Slit whose belly, Nancy?” Caddy said.”I wasn’t scared,” Jason said. “I’d walk right down this lane by myself.””Yah,” Caddy said. “You wouldn’t dare to put your foot in it if we were not with you.”Dilsey was still sick, and so we took Nancy home every night until mother said, “How much longer isthis going to go on? I to be left alone in this big house while you take home a frightened Negro?”We fixed a pallet in the kitchen for Nancy. One night we waked up, hearing the sound. It was notsinging and it was not crying, coming up the dark stairs. There was a light in mother’s room and weheard father going down the hall, down the back stairs, and Caddy and I went into the hall. The floorwas cold. Our toes curled away from the floor while we listened to the sound. It was like singing and itwasn’t like singing, like the sounds that Negroes make. Then it stopped and we heard father going down the back stairs, and we went to the head of the stairs.Then the sound began again, in the stairway, not loud, and we could see Nancy’s eyes half way up thestairs, against the wall. They looked like cat’s eyes do, like a big cat against the wall, watching us. Whenwe came down the steps to where she was she quit making the sound again, and we stood there untilfather came back up from the kitchen, with his pistol in his hand. He went back down with Nancy andthey came back with Nancy’s pallet.We spread the pallet in our room. After the light in mother’s room went off, we could see Nancy’s eyesagain. “Nancy,” Caddy whispered, “are you asleep, Nancy?”Nancy whispered something. It was oh or no, I don’t know which. Like nobody had made it, like it camefrom nowhere and went nowhere, until it was like Nancy was not there at all; that I had looked so hardat her eyes on the stair that they had got printed on my eyelids, like the sun does when you haveclosed your eyes and there is no sun. “Jesus,” Nancy whispered. “Jesus.”7″Was it Jubah?” Caddy whispered. “Did he try to come into the kitchen?””Jesus,” Nancy said. Jeeeeee- eeeeeeeeesus, until the sound went out like a match or a candledoes. “Can you see us, Nancy?” Caddy whispered. “Can you see our eyes too?””I ain’t nothing but a nigger,” Nancy said. “God knows. God knows.””What did you see down there in the kitchen?” Caddy whispered. “What tried to get in?””God knows,” Nancy said. We could see her eyes. “God knows.”Dilsey got well. She cooked dinner. “You’d better stay in bed a day or two longer,” father said. “What for?” Dilsey said. “If I had been a day later, this place would be to rack and ruin. Get on out ofhere, now, and let me get my kitchen straight again.”Dilsey cooked supper, too. And that night, just before dark, Nancy came into the kitchen.”How do you know he’s back?” Dilsey said. “You ain’t seen him.””Jubah is a nigger,” Jason said.”I can feel him,” Nancy said. “I can feel him laying yonder in the ditch.””Tonight?” Dilsey said. “Is he there tonight?””Dilsey’s a nigger too,” Jason said.”You try to eat something,” Dilsey said.”I don’t want nothing,” Nancy said.”I ain’t a nigger,” Jason said. “Drink some coffee,” Dilsey said. She poured a cup of coffee for Nancy. “Do you know he’s out theretonight? How come you know it’s tonight?””I know,” Nancy said. “He’s there, waiting. I know. I done lived with him too long. I know what he fixingto do fore he knows it himself.””Drink some coffee,” Dilsey said. Nancy held the cup to her mouth and blew into the cup. Her mouthpursed out like a spreading adder’s,8 like a rubber mouth, like she had blown all the color out of herlips with blowing the coffee.”I ain’t a nigger,” Jason said. “Are you a nigger, Nancy?””I hell-born, child,” Nancy said. “I won’t be nothing soon. I going back where I come from soon.” She began to drink the coffee. While she was drinking, holding the cup in both hands, she began tomake the sound again. She made the sound into the cup and the coffee sploshed out on to her handsand her dress. Her eyes looked at us and she sat there, her elbows on her knees, holding the cup inboth hands, looking at us across the wet cup, makin the sound.”Look at Nancy,” Jason said. “Nancy can’t cook for us now. Dilsey’s got well now.””You hush up,” Dilsey said. Nancy held the cup in both hands, looking at us, making the sound, likethere were two of them: one looking at us and the other making the sound. “Whyn’t you let Mr. Jasontelefoam the marshal?” Dilsey said. Nancy stopped then, holding the cup in her long brown hands. Shetried to drink some coffee again, but it sploshed out of the cup, on to her hands and her dress and sheput the cup down. Jason watched her.”I can’t swallow it,” Nancy said. “I swallows but it won’t go down me.””You go down to the cabin,” Dilsey said. “Frony will fix you a pallet and I’ll be there soon.”Won’t no nigger stop him,” Nancy said.”I ain’t a nigger,” Jason said. “Am I, Dilsey?””I reckon not,” Dilsey said. She looked at Nancy. “I don’t reckon so. What you going to do, then?”Nancy looked at us. Her eyes went fast, like she was afraid there wasn’t time to look, without hardlymoving at all. She looked at us, at all three of us at one time. “You member that night I stayed in yawls’room?” she said. She told about how we waked up early the next morning, and played. We had to playquiet, on her pallet, until father woke and it was time for her to go down and get breakfast. “Go and askyou maw to let me stay here tonight,” Nancy said. “I won’t need no pallet. We can play some more,” shesaid.Caddy asked mother. Jason went too. “I can’t have Negroes sleeping in the house,” mother said. Jasoncried. He cried until mother said he couldn’t have any dessert for three days if he didn’t stop. ThenJason said he would stop if Dilsey would make a chocolate cake. Father was there. “Why don’t you do something about it?” mother said. “What do we have officers for?””Why is Nancy afraid of Jubah?” Caddy said. “Are you afraid of father, mother?””What could they do?” father said. “If Nancy hasn’t seen him, how could the officers find him?””Then why is she afraid?” mother said.”She says he is there. She says she knows he is there tonight.” “Yet we pay taxes,” mother said. “I must wait here alone in this big house while you take a Negrowoman home.””You know that I am not lying outside with a razor,” father said.”I’ll stop if Dilsey will make a chocolate cake,” Jason said. Mother told us to go out and father said hedidn’t know if Jason would get a chocolate cake or not, but he knew what Jason was going to get inabout a minute. We went back to the kitchen and told Nancy.”Father said for you to go home and lock the door, and you’ll be all right,” Caddy said. “All right fromwhat, Nancy? Is Jubah mad at you?” Nancy was holding the coffee cup in her hands, her elbow on herknees and her hands holding the cup between her knees. She was looking into the cup. “What haveyou done that made Jubah mad?” Caddy said. Nancy let the cup go. It didn’t break on the floor, but thecoffee spilled out, and Nancy sat there with her hands making the shape of the cup. She began tomake the sound again, not loud. Not singing and not un-singing. We watched her.”Here,” Dilsey said. “You quit that, now. You get a-holt of yourself. You wait here. I going to get Versh towalk home with you.” Dilsey went out. We looked at Nancy. Her shoulders kept shaking, but she had quit making the sound. We watched her.”What’s Jubah going to do to you?” Caddy said. “He went away.”Nancy looked at us. “We had fun that night I stayed in yawls’ room, didn’t we?””I didn’t,” Jason said. “I didn’t have any fun.””You were asleep,” Caddy said. “You were not there.””Let’s go down to my house and have some more fun,” Nancy said. “Mother won’t let us,” I said. “It’s too late now.””Don’t bother her,” Nancy said. “We can tell her in the morning. She won’t mind.””She wouldn’t let us,” I said.”Don’t ask her now,” Nancy said. “Don’t bother her now.””They didn’t say we couldn’t go,” Caddy said. “We didn’t ask,” I said.”If you go, I’ll tell,” Jason said.”We’ll have fun,” Nancy said. “They won’t mind, just to my house. I been working for yawl a long time.They won’t mind.””I’m not afraid to go,” Caddy said. “Jason is the one that’s afraid. He’ll tell.””I’m not,” Jason said. “You are,” Caddy said. “You’ll tell.””I won’t tell,” Jason said. “I’m not afraid.””Jason ain’t afraid to go with me,” Nancy said. “Is you, Jason?””Jason is going to tell,” Caddy said. The lane was dark. We passed the pasture gate. “I bet if somethingwas to jump out from behind that gate, Jason would holler.””I wouldn’t,” Jason said. We walked down the lane. Nancy was talking loud. “What are you talking so loud for, Nancy?” Caddy said.”Who; me?” Nancy said. “Listen at Quentin and Caddy and Jason saying I’m talking loud.””You talk like there was four of us here,” Caddy said. “You talk like father was here too.””Who; me talking loud, Mr. Jason?” Nancy said.”Nancy called Jason ‘Mister,’” Caddy said. “Listen how Caddy and Quentin and Jason talk,” Nancy said.”We’re not talking loud,” Caddy said. “You’re the one that’s talking like father —””Hush,” Nancy said; “hush, Mr. Jason.””Nancy called Jason `Mister’ again —””Hush,” Nancy said. She was talking loud when we crossed the ditch and stooped through the fencewhere she used to stoop through with the clothes on her head. Then we came to her house. We weregoing fast then. She opened the door. The smell of the house was like the lamp and the smell of Nancywas like the wick, like they were waiting for one another to smell. She lit the lamp and closed the doorand put the bar up. Then she quit talking loud, looking at us. “What’re we going to do?” Caddy said.”What you all want to do?” Nancy said.”You said we would have some fun,” Caddy said.There was something about Nancy’s house; something you could smell. Jason smelled it, even. “I don’twant to stay here,” he said. “I want to go home.””Go home, then,” Caddy said. “I don’t want to go by myself,” Jason said.”We’re going to have some fun,” Nancy said.”How?” Caddy said.Nancy stood by the door. She was looking at us, only it was like she had emptied her eyes, like she hadquit using them.What do you want to do?” she said. “Tell us a story,” Caddy said. “Can you tell a story?””Yes,” Nancy said.”Tell it,” Caddy said. We looked at Nancy. “You don’t know any stories,” Caddy said.”Yes,” Nancy said. “Yes I do.”She came and sat down in a chair before the hearth. There was some fire there; she built it up; it wasalready hot. You didn’t need a fire. She built a good blaze. She told a story. She talked like her eyeslooked, like her eyes watching us and her voice talking to us did not belong to her. Like she was livingsomewhere else, waiting somewhere else. She was outside the house. Her voice was there and theshape of her, the Nancy that could stoop under the fence with the bundle of clothes balanced asthough without weight, like a balloon, on her head, was there. But that was all. “And so this here queencome walking up to the ditch, where that bad man was hiding. She was walking up the ditch, and shesay, `If I can just get past this here ditch,’ was what she say….” “What ditch?” Caddy said. “A ditch like that one out there? Why did the queen go into the ditch?””To get to her house,” Nancy said. She looked at us. “She had to cross that ditch to get home.””Why did she want to go home?” Caddy said.Nancy looked at us. She quit talking. She looked at us. Jason’s legs stuck straight out of his pants,because he was little. “I don’t think that’s a good story,” he said. “I want to go home.””Maybe we had better,” Caddy said. She got up from the floor. “I bet they are looking for us right now.”She went toward the door. “No,” Nancy said. “Don’t open it.” She got up quick and passed Caddy. She didn’t touch the door, thewooden bar.”Why not?” Caddy said.”Come back to the lamp,” Nancy said. “We’ll have fun. You don’t have to go.””We ought to go,” Caddy said. “Unless we have a lot of fun.” She and Nancy came back to the fire, thelamp.”I want to go home,” Jason said. “I’m going to tell.” “I know another story,” Nancy said. She stood close to the lamp. She looked at Caddy, like when youreyes look up at a stick balanced on your nose. She had to look down to see Caddy, but her eyes lookedlike that, like when you are balancing a stick.”I won’t listen to it,” Jason said. “I’ll bang on the floor.””It’s a good one,” Nancy said. “It’s better than the other one.””What’s it about?” Caddy said. Nancy was standing by the lamp. Her hand was on the lamp, against thelight, long and brown.”Your hand is on that hot globe,” Caddy said. “Don’t it feel hot to your hand?” Nancy looked at her hand on the lamp chimney. She took her hand away, slow. She stood there,looking at Caddy, wringing her long hand as though it were tied to her wrist with a string.”Let’s do something else,” Caddy said.”I want to go home,” Jason said.”I got some popcorn,” Nancy said. She looked at Caddy and then at Jason and then at me and then atCaddy again. “I got some popcorn.””I don’t like popcorn,” Jason said. “I’d rather have candy.” Nancy looked at Jason. “You can hold the popper.” She was still wringing her hand; it was long and limpand brown.”All right,” Jason said. “I’ll stay a while if I can do that. Caddy can’t hold it. I’ll want to go home, if Caddyholds the popper.”Nancy built up the fire. “Look at Nancy putting her hands in the fire,” Caddy said. “What’s the matterwith you, Nancy?””I got popcorn,” Nancy said. “I got some.” She took the popper from under the bed. It was broken. Jasonbegan to cry.”We can’t have any popcorn,” he said. “We ought to go home, anyway,” Caddy said. “Come on, Quentin.””Wait,” Nancy said; “wait. I can fix it. Don’t you want to help me fix it?””I don’t think I want any,” Caddy said. “It’s too late now.””You help me, Jason,” Nancy said. “Don’t you want to help me?””No,” Jason said. “I want to go home.” “Hush,” Nancy said; “hush. Watch. Watch me. I can fix it so Jason can hold it and pop the corn.” She gota piece of wire and fixed the popper.”It won’t hold good,” Caddy said.”Yes it will,” Nancy said. “Yawl watch. Yawl help me shell the corn.”The corn was under the bed too. We shelled it into the popper and Nancy helped Jason hold thepopper over the fire.”It’s not popping,” Jason said. “I want to go home.” “You wait,” Nancy said. “It’ll begin to pop. We’ll have fun then.” She was sitting close to the fire. Thelamp was turned up so high it was beginning to smoke.”Why don’t you turn it down some?” I said.”It’s all right,” Nancy said. “I’ll clean it. Yawl wait. The popcorn will start in a minute.””I don’t believe it’s going to start,” Caddy said. “We ought to go home, anyway. They’ll be worried.””No,” Nancy said. “It’s going to pop. Dilsey will tell um yawl with me. I been working for yawl long time.They won’t mind if you at my house. You wait, now. It’ll start popping in a minute.” Then Jason got some smoke in his eyes and he began to cry. He dropped the popper into the fire.Nancy got a wet rag and wiped Jason’s face, but he didn’t stop crying.”Hush,” she said. “Hush.” He didn’t hush. Caddy took the popper out of the fire.”It’s burned up,” she said. “You’ll have to get some more popcorn, Nancy.””Did you put all of it in?” Nancy said.”Yes,” Caddy said. Nancy looked at Caddy. Then she took the popper and opened it and poured theblackened popcorn into her apron and began to sort the grains, her hands long and brown, and wewatching her. “Haven’t you got any more?” Caddy said.”Yes,” Nancy said; “yes. Look. This here ain’t burnt. All we need to do is —””I want to go home,” Jason said. “I’m going to tell.””Hush,” Caddy said. We all listened. Nancy’s head was already turned toward the barred door, her eyesfilled with rep lamplight. “Somebody is coming,” Caddy said.Then Nancy began to make that sound again, not loud, sitting there above the fire, her long handsdangling between her knees; all of a sudden water began to come out on her face in big drops, runningdown her face, carrying in each one a little turning ball of firelight until it dropped off her chin. “She’s not crying,” I said.”I ain’t crying,” Nancy said. Her eyes were closed, “I ain’t crying. Who is it?””I don’t know,” Caddy said. She went the door and looked out. “We’ve got to go home now,” she said.”Here comes father.””I’m going to tell,” Jason said. “You all made me come.”The water still ran down Nancy’s face. She turned in her chair. “Listen. Tell him. Tell him we going tohave fun. Tell him I take good care of yawl until the morning. Tell him to let me come home with yawland sleep on the floor. Tell him I won’t need no pallet. We’ll have fun. You remember last time how wehad so much fun?””I didn’t have any fun,” Jason said. “You hurt me. You put smoke in my eyes.Father came in. He looked at us. Nancy did not get up.”Tell him,” she said.”Caddy made us come down here,” Jason said. “I didn’t want to.”Father came to the fire. Nancy looked up at him. “Can’t you go to Aunt Rachel’s and stay?” he said.Nancy looked up at father, her hands between knees. “He’s not here,” father said. “I would have seen.There wasn’t a soul in sight.” “He in the ditch,” Nancy said. “He waiting in the ditch yonder.””Nonsense,” father said. He looked at Nancy. “Do you know he’s there?””I got the sign,” Nancy said.”What sign?””I got it. It was on the table when I come in. It was a hog bone, with blood meat still on it, laying by thelamp. He’s out there. When yawl walk out that door, I gone.””Who’s gone, Nancy?” Caddy said.”I’m not a tattletale,” Jason said.”Nonsense,” father said.”He out there,” Nancy said. “He looking through that window this minute, waiting for yawl to go. Then Igone.””Nonsense,” father said. “Lock up your house and we’ll take you on to Aunt Rachel’s.””‘Twon’t do no good,” Nancy said. She didn’t look at father now, but he looked down at her, at her long,limp, moving hands.”Putting it off won’t do no good.””Then what do you want to do?” father said.”I don’t know,” Nancy said. “I can’t do nothing. Just put it off. And that don’t do no good. I reckon itbelong to me. I reckon what I going to get ain’t no more than mine.””Get what?” Caddy said. “What’s yours?” “Nothing,” father said. You all must get to bed.””Caddy made me come,” Jason said.”Go on to Aunt Rachel’s,” father said.”It won’t do no good,” Nancy said. She sat before the fire, her elbows on her knees, her long handsbetween her knees. “When even your own kitchen wouldn’t do no good. When even if I was sleeping onthe floor in the room with your own children, and the next morning there I am, and blood all —””Hush,” father said. “Lock the door and put the lamp out and go to bed.” “I scared of the dark,” Nancy said. “I scared for it to happen in the dark.””You mean you’re going to sit right here, with the lamp lighted?” father said. Then Nancy began tomake the sound again, sitting before the fire, her long hands between her knees. “Ah, damnation,”father said. “Come along, chillen. It’s bedtime.””When yawl go, I gone,” Nancy said. “I be dead tomorrow. I done had saved up the coffin money withMr. Lovelady —”Mr. Lovelady was a short, dirty man who collected the Negro insurance, coming around to the cabinsand the kitchens every Saturday morning, to collect fifteen cents. He and his wife lived in the hotel. Onemorning his wife committed suicide. They had a child, a little girl. After his wife committed suicide Mr.Lovelady and the child went away. After a while Mr. Lovelady came back. We would see him goingdown the lanes on Saturday morning to the Baptist church.Father carried Jason on his back. We went out Nancy’s door; she was sitting before the fire. “Come andput the bar up,” father said. Nancy didn’t move. She didn’t look at us again. We left her there, sittingbefore the fire with the door opened, so it wouldn’t happen in the dark. “What, father?” Caddy said. “Why is Nancy scared of Jubah? What is Jubah going to do to her?””Jubah wasn’t there,” Jason said.”No,” father said. “He’s not there. He’s gone away.””Who is it that’s waiting in the ditch?” Caddy said. We looked at the ditch. We came to it, where the pathwent down into the thick vines and went up again.”Nobody,” father said. There was just enough moon to see by. The ditch was vague, thick, quiet. “If he’s there, he can see us,can’t he?” Caddy said.”You made me come,” Jason said on father’s back. “I didn’t want to.”The ditch was quite still, quite empty, massed with honeysuckle. We couldn’t see Jubah, any more thanwe could see Nancy sitting there in her house, with the door open and the lamp burning, because shedidn’t want it to happen in the dark. “I done got tired,” Nancy said. “I just a nigger. It ain’t no fault ofmine.”But we could still hear her. She began as soon as we were out of the house, sitting there above the fire,her long brown hands between her knees. We could still hear her when we had crossed the ditch,Jason high and close and little about father’s head.Then we had crossed the ditch, walking out of Nancy’s life. Then her life was sitting there with the dooropen and the lamp lit, waiting, and the ditch between us and us going on, dividing the impinged9 livesof us and Nancy. “Who will do our washing now, father?” I said.”I’m not a nigger,” Jason said.”You’re worse,” Caddy said, “you are a tattletale. If something was to jump out, you’d be scairder than anigger.””I wouldn’t,” Jason said.”You’d cry,” Caddy said. “Caddy!” father said.”I wouldn’t,” Jason said.”Scairy cat,” Caddy said.”Candace!” father said.1.What does the ditch most likely symbolize in the story?A. the unbridgeable division between the wealthy and the poor in JeffersonB. the unbridgeable division between the white and black populations of JeffersonC. the daily struggle of women living split lives between their families andemployersD. the unknowable but persistent and daily danger and fear that black people face2. PART A: Which TWO statements best express what the mother’s actions and words revealabout Jefferson?A. Jefferson could do more to help its black citizens but refuses to out of pride.B. Jefferson’s strict segregation laws paralyze citizens who want to do the rightthing.C. Strict cultural norms prevent people from engaging in empathetic behavior.D. All of Jefferson’s citizens are equally driven by legitimate fears.E. The white people of Jefferson do not want to engage with or employ the blackpopulation.F. Citizens fear that uplifting the black population puts the white population at risk.3. PART B: Which TWO pieces of evidence best support the answers to Part A?A. “‘You’ll leave me alone, to take Nancy home?’ mother said. ‘Is her safety moreprecious to you than mine?’” (Paragraph 49)B. “she believed that all day father had been trying to think of doing the thing thatshe wouldn’t like the most” (Paragraph 55)C. “There’s nothing for you to be afraid of now. And if you’d just let white menalone.” (Paragraph 63)D. “How much longer is this going to go on? I to be left alone in this big house whileyou take home a frightened Negro?” (Paragraph 73)E. “I can’t have Negroes sleeping in the house” (Paragraph 109)F. “‘Why don’t you do something about it?’” mother said. “‘What do we have officersfor?’” (Paragraph 110)4. What is the effect of the repetition of phrases similar to “I ain’t nothing but a n—–” by Nancyand “I’m not a n—–” by Jason throughout the story?A. It reveals Jason’s smug superiority as a five-year-old white boy over a middleagedblack woman.B. It highlights the racial divide in Jefferson that is central to people’s identity andthe town’s power structure.C. It shows Jason’s preoccupation with discovering his identity and place in thetown.D. It exemplifies Nancy’s lack of self-worth as a result of how she is perceived andtreated as a black woman.5. What effect does Faulkner’s choice of resolution have on readers’ takeaway of the story?A. Readers are left uncertain of Nancy’s fate but reassured she will be safe fromJubah.B. Readers are led to believe that Nancy will live a life of frenzied paranoia andsolitude.C. Readers are left feeling the indifference of Quentin’s family and uncertainty overNancy’s fate.D. Readers are led to believe that Quentin feels relieved to be free of the pressureto help Nancy.6. Which of the following are TWO themes of the story?A. People tend to remember the past the way that they want or need to.B. Fear can develop from a sense of helplessness and powerlessness.C. It does little to dwell on a past that cannot be changed or forgiven.D. Repressed people often internalize the habit of blaming themselves rather thanothers.E. People of color externalize the habit of blaming others for their repression.F. People cannot blame others for systems of repression and indifference insociety.7. How does Quentin’s shifting point of view affect the meaning of the story after the firstparagraph affect the meaning of the story?A. The story becomes a recollection of Quentin’s loss of innocence.B. Quentin’s reliability as a narrator is strengthened given his older and moremature outlook.C. The story becomes a reflection of the past and an acknowledgment of changesthat have occurred within the community.D. Quentin’s focus on the past implies his dissatisfaction with the present,persistent racial inequality in Jefferson.8. How does the conversation in the kitchen between Dilsey, Nancy, Quentin, Caddy, andJason in Part II (Paragraphs 86-108) contribute to the central themes of the story?A. It shows that Nancy believes that the innocence of children can protect heragainst the cruelty she lives in.B. It shows how an empathetic community provides the most effective means ofprotection.C. It shows how fear is bred in the mind and therefore can only be cured by thefearful, and not outside helpers.D. It shows that Nancy thinks that the whiteness of Quentin’s family will protect herfrom Jubah.
Poems by Langston Hughes:Harlem Renaissance Poet: 1902-1967Jazz Band in a Parisian Cabaret (1925)Play that thing, by Langston HughesJazz band!Play it
Poems by Langston Hughes:Harlem Renaissance Poet: 1902-1967Jazz Band in a Parisian Cabaret (1925)Play that thing, by Langston HughesJazz band!Play it for the lords and ladies,For the dukes and counts,For the whores and gigolos,For the American millionaires,And the school teachersOut for a spree.Play it,Jazz band! You know that tuneThat laughs and cries at the same time.You know it. May I?Mais oui.Mein Gott!Parece una rumba.Play it, jazz band!You’ve got seven languages to speak inAnd then some,Even if you do come from Georgia.Can I go home wid yuh, sweetie? I Dream A World – Poem by Langston HughesI dream a world where manNo other man will scorn,Where love will bless the earthAnd peace its paths adornI dream a world where allWill know sweet freedom’s way,Where greed no longer saps the soulNor avarice blights our day.A world I dream where black or white,Whatever race you be,Will share the bounties of the earthAnd every man is free,Where wretchedness will hang its headAnd joy, like a pearl,Attends the needs of all mankind-Of such I dream, my world! Jazzonia By Langston Hughes 1923Oh, silver tree!Oh, shining rivers of the soul!In a Harlem cabaretSix long-headed jazzers play.A dancing girl whose eyes are boldLifts high a dress of silken gold.Oh, singing tree!Oh, shining rivers of the soul!Were Eve’s eyesIn the first gardenJust a bit too bold?Was Cleopatra gorgeousIn a gown of gold?Oh, shining tree!Oh, silver rivers of the soul!In a whirling cabaretSix long-headed jazzers play. Poems by: Countee Cullen:Harlem Renaissance Poet 1903-1946From The Dark Tower by Countee CullenWe shall not always plant while others reapThe golden increment of bursting fruit,Not always countenance, abject and mute,That lesser men should hold their brothers cheap;Not everlastingly while others sleepShall we beguile their limbs with mellow flute,Not always bend to some more subtle brute;We were not made to eternally weep.The night whose sable breast relieves the stark,White stars is no less lovely being dark,And there are buds that cannot bloom at allIn light, but crumple, piteous, and fall;So in the dark we hide the heart that bleeds,And wait, and tend our agonizing seeds. Song In Spite Of Myself By Countee CullenNever Love with all your heart,It only ends in aching;And bit by bit to the smallest partThat organ will be breaking. Never love with all your mind,It only ends in fretting;In musing on sweet joys behind,too poignant for forgetting. Never love with all your soul,for such there is no ending;though a mind that frets may find control,and a shattered heart find mending. Give but a grain of the heart’s rich seed,Confine some undercover,And when love goes, bid him God-speed,and find another lover. Ultimatum By Countee CullenI hold not with the fatalist creedOf what must be must be;There is enough to meet my needIn this most meager me. These two slim arms were made to reinMy steed, to ward and fend;There is more gold in this small brainThan I can ever spend. The seed I plant is chosen well;Ambushed by no sly sweven,I plant it if it droops to hell,Or if it blooms to heaven.that is the poem And read the poem than answers the questions Which poem impacts you the most? Explain at least three elements in the poem that you think reflect the poet’s life experience. Explain what you think is the actual sentiment or feeling in the poem that you chose. What do you think the poet wants us to feel in the moment of reading it?
Imagine a very young child saw the word “memoir” and asked you what it meant. Write down what you might
Imagine a very young child saw the word “memoir” and asked you what it meant. Write down what you might tell that child, considering what you learned from reading chapter 18 and considering the audience you’re speaking to. Write to me as if I am the child. What choices will you have to make in your writing to best address this audience? What you write should show deep understanding of the concepts in the textbook chapter but be packaged for this new rhetorical situation. The purpose of the textbook is to explain memoir to an audience of college students. The purpose of your assignment is to explain memoir to an audience of a very little kid. That shift in the rhetorical situation demands a different tone, a different style of writing, a different vocabulary and set of references. Do your best also to explain how memoir is different than “just talking about yourself.” Aim for 150-200 words.
The Hound of the Baskervilles: Chapter 14Answer the following questions using textual evidence from the novel to support your points.
The Hound of the Baskervilles: Chapter 14Answer the following questions using textual evidence from the novel to support your points. 1. Who did Watson see at Merripit House? Who was missing, and why do you think this person was missing? 2. What unexpected problem caused trouble for Holmes’ plan? 3. What surprised Holmes and Watson? 4. What happened to the “Hound of the Baskervilles?” 5. What made the hound appear to have a flaming mouth? 6. Who did Holmes and Watson find in the upper floor bedroom of Merripit House? 7. What help did Mrs. Stapleton offer? 8. What happened to Mr. Stapleton? https://www.e-anglais.com/lectures/Hound_of_the_Baskervilles/baskervilles_14.html
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