Freedom on the River

Sitting on the bank of the White River with my feet dipped into the cool rippling water I glance down and, by the luminous moon’s light, see the dominant features of my reflection. Staring back at me, I catch a glimpse of my family back home; my father’s eyes, my mother’s nose, the sharp rigid jaw line of the same granddad whose lap I crawled into all those late evenings as a child when my dreams turned to nightmares. I still can’t fathom it has been two months. The fact that it has only been 60 days since I left home that fiery July night leaves me at a loss for words. It feels like years since I have felt the warmth of the flickering flames of the dimly lit fireplace that was just enough to heat the space of the one room cottage, or even the tender sound of my mother singing “Amazing Grace” while she worked in the kitchen.  The longing I have to be home burns within me. Does my family miss me with the same passion as I do them? Are they aware of what I saw that night, and why I had to leave with such haste?  I guess I’ll never know the answers to the questions my worn out mind has left me thinking each lonely night as I travel further and further down the river and away from home. I lie back on the moist packed Arkansas ground and relive the bliss memories of home until the first glistening rays of sun peek through the trees. I hear my stomach roar with hunger and realize it has been a good two days since my last solid meal. Planning to spear a few morning fish, I reach for the keen blade in the pit of my satchel. With a firm grip on the blade’s wooden carved handle, I ease my way into the crisp water as it splashes around me. I don’t worry too much about my soggy clothes. I figure the chilly water attached to them will cool my skin as I walk in the steamy midday sun after I’ve had breakfast. Bracing myself for the swift current in the midst of the river, I tense my muscles and begin to take smaller steps, dragging my feet closer to the bottom. I draw my attention to a number of nicely sized perch swimming nearby. As I step closer the steep abyss in the heart of the river catches me off guard and I plunge into the depths of the suddenly raging waters. Chaos surrounds all five senses as my body is thrown violently like a young girls rag doll twisting in the winds of a tornado. I thrash about trying desperately to swim away from the rage of the current but am only able to scrape the tips of my fingers across the slick, rocky bottom. My heart pounds wildly as adrenaline pumps through my veins. A flame has set inside my lungs causing such pain I cannot bear it any longer. Without warning, my mind and body simultaneously relax and I am no longer in control. I close my eyes and can hear the faint whisper of my mother’s sweet voice singing “Amazing Grace” for what seemed to be the last time. The hope I had of saving myself was entirely gone. I let my limbs go limp and give in to the helpless state I had attempted to stay so far away from. I could feel my mind slipping softly away from the rest of me. From out of nowhere, I feel a small hand grasp the back of my collar and pull me upward. As my head breaks through the surface of the water I gasp for air. I could feel my whole body tremble vigorously as I was carefully laid upon the bank of the forceful river once again. For what seemed to be hours, I laid still, regaining my awareness and inhaling deeply.  How can I possibly be alive? I sit upright and look around curiously, finding my answer nearby. A middle aged boy is crouching, leaning his back against the trunk of an ancient oak tree with his gaze set off somewhere deep in the woods. His average height, short dusky hair and rich brown eyes make him seem, at first glance, much older.

“You saved my life.” I stumble over the words, still in complete shock.

The boy, turning his head and staring solemnly, responds. “Don’t think anything of it. What were you doing out there anyway?”

“Fishing,” I reply. “What’s your name? And why are you out here in the middle of nowhere alone?”

The boy’s face remains expressionless as he speaks.  “Name’s Billy. And I could ask you the same question.”  

Essay. [JBHisanerd]

            In many different cultures all over the world folklores have been shared between several generations. Compared to present day urban legends, folklores pass on historical facts enhanced by exaggerated features and are extremely important to traditional way of life. Similarities and differences are clearly seen in folklores of even the same country. A prime example of this fact is the comparison of “The King of Sharks” from the culture group of Hawaii, “Pele’s Revenge” also from the culture group Hawaii, and “I’m All Right” from the culture group of California.

The story “The King of Sharks” is an old Hawaiian folklore that tells the story of the son of the King of Sharks. The setting takes place on a small beachside village. The Kind of Sharks marries a beautiful village girl and together they have a son named Nanave. As he grows older, each day Nanave asks the fishermen where they have     decided to fish. When the fishermen begin to catch fewer and fewer fish and the people begin to starve, the Chief declares that a bad God is among them preventing the fishermen from catching their fish. Throughout the passage, a very dramatic/intense tone is kept. Unlike “Pele’s Revenge” or “I’m All Right”, one significant problem in the story is starvation. When the village begins to starve due to lack of fish, the Chief decided to search for the bad god causing the problem. Knowing that Nanave is the son of a god, Nanave’s mother becomes frightened for the safety of her son. Just like “I’m All Right”, the mother is worried about her only son.

           Another Hawaiian folklore, “Pele’s Revenge”, tells the story of the everlasting love between Ohi’a and Lehua. Like “The King of Sharks”, the setting takes place in a small village.  When Ohi’a and Lehua first saw each other at a village dance they knew that there was no one better for them and were soon happily married. A few months later, the Goddess Pele noticed Ohi’a working near his home and was smitten by him. She was determined to make him hers, but was soon disheartened when she recognized the look Ohi’a gave Lehua that told he would never love anyone else. Overwhelmed by jealousy, Pele transformed Ohi’a into an old twisted tree so the couple could never be together.  Love and jealousy are the tones of the passage, unlike “The King of Sharks” and “I’m All Right”.  Similar to “The King of Sharks”, the story is dealing with two people falling in love at first sight. The involvement of Gods and Goddesses is another similarity between the two folklores.
           The folklore from California, “I’m All Right”, is a story about the love of a mother for her son, Johnny, in the military. The setting takes place in present day California while Johnny is in the Middle East. As a child, Johnny was always fascinated by the military and decided to join the marine’s right out of High School. Although his mother was proud, she was constantly worried about him. One day, Johnny emailed his mother and told her he would not make it home for Hanukkah. The news upset his mother, but she stayed strong. Later that night, she awoke from her sleep to see Johnny standing beside her bed. He asked her to take care of his wife and daughter told her he loved her and they would be together again soon. After he was gone, she realized what his visit had meant and that Johnny was dead. Different from either of the other folklores, “I’m All Right” has a tone of worry and is told in first person viewpoint by the mother. Told in this viewpoint the mother’s apprehension is clearly shown just like the mother from “The King of Sharks.” No matter the variety of problems throughout each of the three stories, the ending was always a peaceful one.
           Folklores from all over the world are important aspects to each and every culture. The similarities and differences in folklore can indicate many of the similarities and differences of the cultural group that they are created from. They have told stories for generations and will continue to do so for several generations to come.

Acceptance.]]*

In my opinion, the resignation of School Board Vice President Clint McCance is in the best interest of the Midland School District. The crude comments posted on his personal Facebook website were certainly uncalled for and extremely unprofessional. As a member of an educational program, I believe Mr. McCance's main priority should be in support of the protection and well-being of all students.   His public statements against gay and lesbian suicide victims caused a local uproar as well as national media attention.

As an individual, Mr.McCance has a legal right to state his own opinion; however, his word choice contradicts his role as a Christian, father, and educational employee.

In reference to the video, it was shocking that Mr.McCance never showed remorse or appologized for the disturbing posts such as "I also enjoy the fact that they give each other AIDS and die." Many believe that Mr.McCance was not sincere, but was only apologetic for the fact that he was confronted.

Mr.McCance also goes on to say "I would disown my kids if they were gay. They will not be welcome in my home or my vicinity. I would absolutely run them off." Because of his position involved in education, kids all over the world may develop a negative influence on how they are perceived by their sexual preference or decisions. They may become hopeless and feel as if there is no one to talk to and no one cares.

"Of course my kids will know better. My kids will have solid Christian beliefs."

It is unbelievable that Mr.McCance claims to be a Christian when he is quoted for stating such hateful, sickening comments about another human being. As a Christian, I believe everyone is made equal in the eyes of God, and should be loved unconditionally without judgement.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OTCJQgSbiLQ