Media Violence Essay

* This picture really does bring back some great memories. West Palm Beach, playing tennis with my family, the sun beaming down, as it usually does in Florida; boy do I miss it. I can even recall my clothing, a goofy baggy red shirt matched with a very fashionable pair of jean shorts. I was 3 or 4 years old and it was my first year playing tennis.   Reluctant at first, I wasn’t sure that I would even like it, but was I wrong. From that day on I was always outside playing, whether just hitting with my dad on the driveway or playing on the local courts. Tennis is what I wanted to eat sleep and breathe. All these years of practice and competing have taught me a lot, both on the court and in the classroom. My lack of confidence and resolve is a thing of the past. Not even a poor grade or a silly presentation in Spanish class can stop me now.
  * The competitive aspect of tennis was always a struggle for me. Fear of embarrassment was the biggest factor; I never wanted to look like a fool. Thankfully, my loving mother always pushed me into things. I remember the first time I played summer tennis…we pulled up to the courts and I was already filled with nerves, hesitant to even play. Immediately she coaxed me into it with a few inspiring words knowing that once I got on the court, my love for the game would overcome my fear: and she was right. We lost our match that day, but what I had gained in confidence was much more important.   Unfortunately, that same fear transferred over to my schoolwork. Spanish was a battle that I always seemed to lose; it never clicked in my head. Presentations were what I dreaded the most, standing up in front of a crowd…what would they think of it? What if I screw up? Dozens of thoughts would race through my head every second. Then I remembered my first day of summer tennis when I overcame my fear and all those negative thoughts were washed away. I wasn’t clinching my fists any more; I was in a peaceful state of mind, I could do this now....