Raymond’s Conviction As I woke up to the sun shining in my face on a beautiful Friday, I was ready to enjoy the wonderful summer weather that North Charleston had to offer. My daily routine consisted of taking a shower, lunch, and playing outside. Mama worked twelve hour shifts so she had already left for work at about 6:15 a.m. I was always in the house alone, but never once felt neglected or took advantage of my twelve hours of freedom. All of my siblings were older than me and moved out of mama’s house so I almost felt like an only child.
Coming home to my 1 bedroom apartment happy everyday. My daughter, bright-eyed and beautiful, at the threshold every time after a hard days work. Working as hard as a short order cook can. An 8 hr day, to bring home maybe 50 bucks. Hard to swallow after a life of no ambition and fast cash.
It will allow me to research on a more personal level rather than just through scholar sources. My inspiration for this theme came from memories as a child, on a Sunday all of my Nana’s six children, spouses and twelve grandchildren would gather at her home for Sunday dinner. The kitchen was the main attraction as we all knew we were in for an unforgettable treat, even if the menu was the same as last weeks. All the women gathered in the kitchen each designated a specific job and no matter how big or small, it was important because, without it dinner would not be the
She is in a wheel chair the majority of the time but is still a very strong-minded independent woman. She enjoys spending time outside in the care home garden, where she can help look after the flowers. She comes from a working class background where she lived in a terrace house, baking cakes for her husband and family before she needed basic care. I think that she would have had a job that meant a lot to her, something caring like a nurse in the army or with children, as she is still caring towards everyone she knows. She has little family, maybe a daughter or son who has there own family and only finds time to visit her occasionally but she likes looking through old photo’s to remind her of the people she loves.
Betty Crockerism Growing up, I always watched my grandma enjoy the act of cooking for our family. She would spend hours on the weekend cooking and baking for all of us. She always seemed to be having fun in the kitchen, so it seemed like more of a hobby than a chore to her. Little did I know, she was performing a religious ritual under a religion called Betty Crockerism. Betty Crockerism is the belief that anybody can learn how to cook and cook well by following Betty Crocker and abiding by the holy book of Betty Crocker, known as the Betty Crocker Cookbook.
The mud has long been prized by pregnant women and children here as an antacid and source of calcium. But in places such as Cité Soleil, the oceanside slum where Charlene shares a two-room house with her baby, five siblings, and two unemployed parents, cookies made of dirt, salt, and vegetable shortening have become a regular meal” (National Geographic). They look a lot like pancakes or cookies. Recipes passed down from generations in Haiti. Women spend entire day making them.
Her parents were Edwin and Amy Otis Earhart. 1899- Grace Muriel Earhart was born (Amelia's younger sister). (nicknamed Pidge) Summer 1904- She and her uncle built a ramp from the tool shack to the ground, and launched herself off the ramp in a wooden box. She came out of the box with a torn dress and a bruised lip, and a sense of exhilaration, she exclaimed to her sister “ Oh, Pidge it's just like flying”!! 1907- Amelia's dad got a job as a claims officer for the Rocky Island Railroad, leading to a transfer to Des Moines, Iowa.
His mother was the "perfect" mother, when he was younger than four. She taught them something new every day and took them on many fun family vacations. Then, singled out one of her children to be the family slave, but it didn't stop there. She also played cruel games, with the boy. Some of her favorites were the gas chamber, and the starvation tease.
I have known Mrs. Burns most of my life, and I cannot remember not knowing her. All of us kids of Banner and Jessee Streets and points in-between loved Mrs. Burns. She just didn’t make the childhood of her boys wonderful, she extended that to the neighbors! She was the neighborhood mother whose house and grounds became the focal point of activity, campouts, and summer swims. She looked after us and saw that we had fun and enough food.
My name is Reena. I live with my parents, my grandmother, and my three older siblings. After grandpa died, my grandma came to live with us, and she has been our main guardian while my parents are off at work during the weekdays. She was more of a mother to me and my brothers solely because she was simply around more. Always teaching us to pull our own weight around our house, and essentially preparing us for the war that would devastate our country for over a decade.