Tuesday, January 28, 2020

Proctor reluctantly Essay Example for Free

Proctor reluctantly Essay This powerful line comes in act 4 when Proctor reluctantly confesses to seeing the devil. He is now passionate about making sure his name doesnt get put up on the church door. This is the line that starts the incredible build up of emotion and frustration leading to the dramatic climax of the play. Saying it with a cry of his whole soul shows how much his name means to him. There isnt a more emotional way he could say it than with his whole soul. John Proctor would rather give up his life than his name. The exclamation mark at the end and the word cry shows he should shout the words with a lot of emotion and passion. I can imagine the actor looking very angry and yelling the line with his arms spread and his fists clenched in rage at the prospect of losing his dignity and reputation. I think when he says the line the other charactors will be silenced and be shocked by his flood of emotion. This abrupt line would surprise the audience and it might make them sympathize with Proctor. In Act 2 John is asked by Hale to repeat the Ten Commandments and remembers all but thou shalt not commit adultery and has to be reminded of it by Elizabeth. It is ironic that Proctor forgets this sin because of the affair he had with Abigail. Adultery was seen as a terrible sin in the Puritan society and adultery was taken very seriously. From Elizabeths perspective this would make her feel uncomfortable as she is wounded by her husbands affair: Proctor (as though a secret arrow had pained his heart): Aye. The description Miller uses to show how Proctor should say the line is very dramatic and the simplicity of just using the word Aye will also have dramatic impact. I can imagine the actor almost whispering the word, dropping his head in shame and with a crack in his voice. This might have the effect of generating sympathy from the audience for both Elizabeth and John. It also adds to the build up of tension creating an expectant atmosphere. Arthur Miller is very good at making the audience feel very involved. One of the ways he does this is by using a technique called dramatic irony. Dramatic irony is when there is contradiction between what a character thinks and what the audience knows to be true. For example in Act 3 Proctor confesses to the court that he had an affair with Abigail. He tells them that Elizabeth knew about the affair and this is why his wife put Abigail out of the house. Danforth sends for Elizabeth and orders that no one is to speak to her and Proctor to turn his back. She is asked about the affair. Not knowing that Procter has confessed and trying to protect Proctor, she lies and denies all knowledge of the affair between John and Abigail. She realizes too late that she should have told the truth and she is led away. During this most tense scene the audience would feel very frustrated with Elizabeth and be willing her to tell the truth. The audience would feel sorry for Elizabeth as she lied to protect Proctor even though it was about his affair, which deeply hurt Elizabeth. At this point in the play I felt desperate for Elizabeth to tell the truth. Arthur Miller uses very powerful stage directions in The Crucible. He uses them for several reasons. One of the reasons is to describe a movement or action of a character. He directs this line at Mary Warren. His wife has just been arrested on suspicion of witchcraft after a poppet is found in her house, which Mary made. This movement prepares us for the dialogue, which is to follow: Proctor (moving menacingly towards her): You will tell the court how that poppet came here and who stuck the needle in. This shows the mood that Proctor is in. Proctor is furious at Mary and wants to scare her into telling the court. The movement would draw everyones attention towards the actor. I think the word menacingly would mean that the actor would walk purposely with an edge of threat towards the girl. He would tower over Mary ready for the dialogue. By this point the audience would be anticipating though his actions what would be going to happen next. In Act 4 Proctor is losing control and is confused about his decision of confessing to seeing the devil: (He moves as an animal, and a fury is riding in him, a tantalized search). This stage direction would enable the actor to behave in a dramatic, inhuman manner. I can imagine the actor pacing and his eyes searching for answers. It would give the actor the opportunity to take centre stage and exploit this important twist of the play. This would add dramatic tension and a feeling of anticipation of what Proctor was going to do next. I think the actor would pace up and down the stage quickly with his body quite tensed up. I think Arthur Miller was successful in creating tension in The Crucible. He does this through a variety of methods. Firstly his use of dark, forbidding sets. This gives the idea of tension before the scenes have even begun and the characters have started speaking. His use of dramatic dialogue and stage directions build up the tension and help the actors relate to the character and perform the play with more emotion towards the characters. Through dramatic irony he involves the audience and manages to maintain their interest throughout the play. Miller portrays the characters in an intense way. The relationships between them are very close, with the stifling intimacy of their lives adding to the slow build up of hysteria in the play. I found the most dramatic moment in the play was when Proctor confessed to his affair. Elizabeth was then asked if she knew about the affair but she denied all knowledge of this. This was a particularly tense moment because anxiety and frustration was high; the characters along with the audience wanted her to tell the truth, fearing the consequences of a lie. This had the affect of making me feel nervous that something could go wrong and also involved because I knew about Proctors confession. I felt that Abigails character was especially strong and influential in the play. She was the root of all the troubles. I felt pity for Elizabeth because of Abigail; her affair with Proctor and her accusations about Elizabeths involvement in witchcraft destroyed her life. Miller has the ability to pull the audience into the lives of the characters by his use of dramatic devices and theatrical techniques, which maintain interest and participation throughout the play. Miller made me feel nervous and frustrated in The Crucible. He made me feel sympathy, fear and anxiety towards the characters. For example I felt great empathy for Elizabeth Proctor as her husband betrayed her and then she was accused of being a witch. Miller uses the other characters to portray Elizabeth as a cold person but through our knowledge of her as the play progresses we become emotionally involved with her and come to realize what a strong courageous woman she is. With Elizabeth, as with many other characters, Miller allows us to make up our own minds about their honesty and strength as we are drawn into the characters lives and we begin understand the double standards and different tensions that are operating throughout The Crucible.

Monday, January 20, 2020

Databases :: essays research papers

ABSTRACT The Automated Business Service System (ABSS) was designed for the military to process documents without wasting an enormous amount of time. The original way of processing a document involved typing the document up and visiting each person to sign off on it. Not only was this time consuming but there was no historical record available if the original document was lost or destroyed. ABSS uses an Oracle database and has changed the way finance processes documents forever.   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚     Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Before I worked as the systems administrator for finance I was the budget analyst. I started using the Automated Business Service System (ABSS) over eight years ago and I think it is one of the best programs the Air Force has adopted. ABSS was written by a private company and has been implemented over multiple branches of the service. When the program first came on board at my base in Germany I was appointed as the functional administrator to maintain the program. I was in charge of maintaining all user accounts and assisting the resource advisors on base with building their flows. I also had to process documents for my program through ABSS. I had to quickly learn how to use this program as well as learn how the Oracle database stored all this pertinent data.   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Before the system was put online I was trained for a few days on how to start building the database and getting the system ready for implementation. I would not responsible for maintaining the actual database. We had a remote database administrator that had the capability to access the database and ensure there were no problems. The actual server was in my office but I had no access to log into it. I could log into the program from any system and make changes to the database that way. The actual integrity of the database was not part of my duties. I had to start building all the accounts for each user within the database.   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚   There was a lot of work to be accomplished before the database went live. Every person who needed to approve a document would have an account as well as a step in the process. A user would draft and submit a document. Each users account also had there electronic mailing address linked to it. This would allow the system to generate an e-mail and the next person in line to approve the document would be able to log into the system and take the appropriate action.

Sunday, January 12, 2020

A Game of Thrones Chapter Forty-three

Eddard Through the high narrow windows of the Red Keep's cavernous throne room, the light of sunset spilled across the floor, laying dark red stripes upon the walls where the heads of dragons had once hung. Now the stone was covered with hunting tapestries, vivid with greens and browns and blues, and yet still it seemed to Ned Stark that the only color in the hall was the red of blood. He sat high upon the immense ancient seat of Aegon the Conqueror, an ironwork monstrosity of spikes and jagged edges and grotesquely twisted metal. It was, as Robert had warned him, a hellishly uncomfortable chair, and never more so than now, with his shattered leg throbbing more sharply every minute. The metal beneath him had grown harder by the hour, and the fanged steel behind made it impossible to lean back. A king should never sit easy, Aegon the Conqueror had said, when he commanded his armorers to forge a great seat from the swords laid down by his enemies. Damn Aegon for his arrogance, Ned thought sullenly, and damn Robert and his hunting as well. â€Å"You are quite certain these were more than brigands?† Varys asked softly from the council table beneath the throne. Grand Maester Pycelle stirred uneasily beside him, while Littlefinger toyed with a pen. They were the only councillors in attendance. A white hart had been sighted in the kingswood, and Lord Renly and Ser Barristan had joined the king to hunt it, along with Prince Joffrey, Sandor Clegane, Balon Swann, and half the court. So Ned must needs sit the Iron Throne in his absence. At least he could sit. Save the council, the rest must stand respectfully, or kneel. The petitioners clustered near the tall doors, the knights and high lords and ladies beneath the tapestries, the smallfolk in the gallery, the mailed guards in their cloaks, gold or grey: all stood. The villagers were kneeling: men, women, and children, alike tattered and bloody, their faces drawn by fear. The three knights who had brought them here to bear witness stood behind them. â€Å"Brigands, Lord Varys?† Ser Raymun Darry's voice dripped scorn. â€Å"Oh, they were brigands, beyond a doubt. Lannister brigands.† Ned could feel the unease in the hall, as high lords and servants alike strained to listen. He could not pretend to surprise. The west had been a tinderbox since Catelyn had seized Tyrion Lannister. Both Riverrun and Casterly Rock had called their banners, and armies were massing in the pass below the Golden Tooth. It had only been a matter of time until the blood began to flow. The sole question that remained was how best to stanch the wound. Sad-eyed Ser Karyl Vance, who would have been handsome but for the winestain birthmark that discolored his face, gestured at the kneeling villagers. â€Å"This is all the remains of the holdfast of Sherrer, Lord Eddard. The rest are dead, along with the people of Wendish Town and the Mummer's Ford.† â€Å"Rise,† Ned commanded the villagers. He never trusted what a man told him from his knees. â€Å"All of you, up.† In ones and twos, the holdfast of Sherrer struggled to its feet. One ancient needed to be helped, and a young girl in a bloody dress stayed on her knees, staring blankly at Ser Arys Oakheart, who stood by the foot of the throne in the white armor of the Kingsguard, ready to protect and defend the king . . . or, Ned supposed, the King's Hand. â€Å"Joss,† Ser Raymun Darry said to a plump balding man in a brewer's apron. â€Å"Tell the Hand what happened at Sherrer.† Joss nodded. â€Å"If it please His Grace—† â€Å"His Grace is hunting across the Blackwater,† Ned said, wondering how a man could live his whole life a few days ride from the Red Keep and still have no notion what his king looked like. Ned was clad in a white linen doublet with the direwolf of Stark on the breast; his black wool cloak was fastened at the collar by his silver hand of office. Black and white and grey, all the shades of truth. â€Å"I am Lord Eddard Stark, the King's Hand. Tell me who you are and what you know of these raiders.† â€Å"I keep . . . I kept . . . I kept an alehouse, m'lord, in Sherrer, by the stone bridge. The finest ale south of the Neck, everyone said so, begging your pardons, m'lord. It's gone now like all the rest, m'lord. They come and drank their fill and spilled the rest before they fired my roof, and they would of spilled my blood too, if they'd caught me. M'lord.† â€Å"They burnt us out,† a farmer beside him said. â€Å"Come riding in the dark, up from the south, and fired the fields and the houses alike, killing them as tried to stop them. They weren't no raiders, though, m'lord. They had no mind to steal our stock, not these, they butchered my milk cow where she stood and left her for the flies and the crows.† â€Å"They rode down my ‘prentice boy,† said a squat man with a smith's muscles and a bandage around his head. He had put on his finest clothes to come to court, but his breeches were patched, his cloak travel-stained and dusty. â€Å"Chased him back and forth across the fields on their horses, poking at him with their lances like it was a game, them laughing and the boy stumbling and screaming till the big one pierced him clean through.† The girl on her knees craned her head up at Ned, high above her on the throne. â€Å"They killed my mother too, Your Grace. And they . . . they . . . † Her voice trailed off, as if she had forgotten what she was about to say. She began to sob. Ser Raymun Darry took up the tale. â€Å"At Wendish Town, the people sought shelter in their holdfast, but the walls were timbered. The raiders piled straw against the wood and burnt them all alive. When the Wendish folk opened their gates to flee the fire, they shot them down with arrows as they came running out, even women with suckling babes.† â€Å"Oh, dreadful,† murmured Varys. â€Å"How cruel can men be?† â€Å"They would of done the same for us, but the Sherrer holdfast's made of stone,† Joss said. â€Å"Some wanted to smoke us out, but the big one said there was riper fruit upriver, and they made for the Mummer's Ford.† Ned could feel cold steel against his fingers as he leaned forward. Between each finger was a blade, the points of twisted swords fanning out like talons from arms of the throne. Even after three centuries, some were still sharp enough to cut. The Iron Throne was full of traps for the unwary. The songs said it had taken a thousand blades to make it, heated white-hot in the furnace breath of Balerion the Black Dread. The hammering had taken fifty-nine days. The end of it was this hunched black beast made of razor edges and barbs and ribbons of sharp metal; a chair that could kill a man, and had, if the stories could be believed. What Eddard Stark was doing sitting there he would never comprehend, yet there he sat, and these people looked to him for justice. â€Å"What proof do you have that these were Lannisters?† he asked, trying to keep his fury under control. â€Å"Did they wear crimson cloaks or fly a lion banner?† â€Å"Even Lannisters are not so blind stupid as that,† Ser Marq Piper snapped. He was a swaggering bantam rooster of a youth, too young and too hot-blooded for Ned's taste, though a fast friend of Catelyn's brother, Edmure Tully. â€Å"Every man among them was mounted and mailed, my lord,† Ser Karyl answered calmly. â€Å"They were armed with steel-tipped lances and longswords, with battle-axes for the butchering.† He gestured toward one of the ragged survivors. â€Å"You. Yes, you, no one's going to hurt you. Tell the Hand what you told me.† The old man bobbed his head. â€Å"Concerning their horses,† he said, â€Å"it were warhorses they rode. Many a year I worked in old Ser Willum's stables, so I knows the difference. Not a one of these ever pulled a plow, gods bear witness if I'm wrong.† â€Å"Well-mounted brigands,† observed Littlefinger. â€Å"Perhaps they stole the horses from the last place they raided.† â€Å"How many men were there in this raiding party?† Ned asked. â€Å"A hundred, at the least,† Joss answered, in the same instant as the bandaged smith said, â€Å"Fifty,† and the grandmother behind him, â€Å"Hunnerds and hunnerds, m'lord, an army they was.† â€Å"You are more right than you know, goodwoman,† Lord Eddard told her. â€Å"You say they flew no banners. What of the armor they wore? Did any of you note ornaments or decorations, devices on shield or helm?† The brewer, Joss, shook his head. â€Å"It grieves me, m'lord, but no, the armor they showed us was plain, only . . . the one who led them, he was armored like the rest, but there was no mistaking him all the same. It was the size of him, m'lord. Those as say the giants are all dead never saw this one, I swear. Big as an ox he was, and a voice like stone breaking.† â€Å"The Mountain!† Ser Marq said loudly. â€Å"Can any man doubt it? This was Gregor Clegane's work.† Ned heard muttering from beneath the windows and the far end of the hall. Even in the galley, nervous whispers were exchanged. High lords and smallfolk alike knew what it could mean if Ser Marq was proved right. Ser Gregor Clegane stood bannerman to Lord Tywin Lannister. He studied the frightened faces of the villagers. Small wonder they had been so fearful; they had thought they were being dragged here to name Lord Tywin a red-handed butcher before a king who was his son by marriage. He wondered if the knights had given them a choice. Grand Maester Pycelle rose ponderously from the council table, his chain of office clinking. â€Å"Ser Marq, with respect, you cannot know that this outlaw was Ser Gregor. There are many large men in the realm.† â€Å"As large as the Mountain That Rides?† Ser Karyl said. â€Å"I have never met one.† â€Å"Nor has any man here,† Ser Raymun added hotly. â€Å"Even his brother is a pup beside him. My lords, open your eyes. Do you need to see his seal on the corpses? It was Gregor.† â€Å"Why should Ser Gregor turn brigand?† Pycelle asked. â€Å"By the grace of his liege lord, he holds a stout keep and lands of his own. The man is an anointed knight.† â€Å"A false knight!† Ser Marq said. â€Å"Lord Tywin's mad dog.† â€Å"My lord Hand,† Pycelle declared in a stiff voice, â€Å"I urge you to remind this good knight that Lord Tywin Lannister is the father of our own gracious queen.† â€Å"Thank you, Grand Maester Pycelle,† Ned said. â€Å"I fear we might have forgotten that if you had not pointed it out.† From his vantage point atop the throne, he could see men slipping out the door at the far end of the hall. Hares going to ground, he supposed . . . or rats off to nibble the queen's cheese. He caught a glimpse of Septa Mordane in the gallery, with his daughter Sansa beside her. Ned felt a flash of anger; this was no place for a girl. But the septa could not have known that today's court would be anything but the usual tedious business of hearing petitions, settling disputes between rival holdfasts, and adjudicating the placement of boundary stones. At the council table below, Petyr Baelish lost interest in his quill and leaned forward. â€Å"Ser Marq, Ser Karyl, Ser Raymun—perhaps I might ask you a question? These holdfasts were under your protection. Where were you when all this slaughtering and burning was going on?† Ser Karyl Vance answered. â€Å"I was attending my lord father in the pass below the Golden Tooth, as was Ser Marq. When the word of these outrages reached Ser Edmure Tully, he sent word that we should take a small force of men to find what survivors we could and bring them to the king.† Ser Raymun Darry spoke up. â€Å"Ser Edmure had summoned me to Riverrun with all my strength. I was camped across the river from his walls, awaiting his commands, when the word reached me. By the time I could return to my own lands, Clegane and his vermin were back across the Red Fork, riding for Lannister's hills.† Littlefinger stroked the point of his beard thoughtfully. â€Å"And if they come again, ser?† â€Å"If they come again, we'll use their blood to water the fields they burnt,† Ser Marq Piper declared hotly. â€Å"Ser Edmure has sent men to every village and holdfast within a day's ride of the border,† Ser Karyl explained. â€Å"The next raider will not have such an easy time of it.† And that may be precisely what Lord Tywin wants, Ned thought to himself, to bleed off strength from Riverrun, goad the boy into scattering his swords. His wife's brother was young, and more gallant than wise. He would try to hold every inch of his soil, to defend every man, woman, and child who named him lord, and Tywin Lannister was shrewd enough to know that. â€Å"If your fields and holdfasts are safe from harm,† Lord Petyr was saying, â€Å"what then do you ask of the throne?† â€Å"The lords of the Trident keep the king's peace,† Ser Raymun Darry said. â€Å"The Lannisters have broken it. We ask leave to answer them, steel for steel. We ask justice for the smallfolk of Sherrer and Wendish Town and the Mummer's Ford.† â€Å"Edmure agrees, we must pay Gregor Clegane back his bloody coin,† Ser Marq declared, â€Å"but old Lord Hoster commanded us to come here and beg the king's leave before we strike.† Thank the gods for old Lord Hoster, then. Tywin Lannister was as much fox as lion. If indeed he'd sent Ser Gregor to burn and pillage—and Ned did not doubt that he had—he'd taken care to see that he rode under cover of night, without banners, in the guise of a common brigand. Should Riverrun strike back, Cersei and her father would insist that it had been the Tullys who broke the king's peace, not the Lannisters. The gods only knew what Robert would believe. Grand Maester Pycelle was on his feet again. â€Å"My lord Hand, if these good folk believe that Ser Gregor has forsaken his holy vows for plunder and rape, let them go to his liege lord and make their complaint. These crimes are no concern of the throne. Let them seek Lord Tywin's justice.† â€Å"It is all the king's justice,† Ned told him. â€Å"North, south, east, or west, all we do we do in Robert's name.† â€Å"The king's justice,† Grand Maester Pycelle said. â€Å"So it is, and so we should defer this matter until the king—† â€Å"The king is hunting across the river and may not return for days,† Lord Eddard said. â€Å"Robert bid me to sit here in his place, to listen with his ears, and to speak with his voice. I mean to do just that . . . though I agree that he must be told.† He saw a familiar face beneath the tapestries. â€Å"Ser Robar.† Ser Robar Royce stepped forward and bowed. â€Å"My lord.† â€Å"Your father is hunting with the king,† Ned said. â€Å"Will you bring them word of what was said and done here today?† â€Å"At once, my lord.† â€Å"Do we have your leave to take our vengeance against Ser Gregor, then?† Marq Piper asked the throne. â€Å"Vengeance?† Ned said. â€Å"I thought we were speaking of justice. Burning Clegane's fields and slaughtering his people will not restore the king's peace, only your injured pride.† He glanced away before the young knight could voice his outraged protest, and addressed the villagers. â€Å"People of Sherrer, I cannot give you back your homes or your crops, nor can I restore your dead to life. But perhaps I can give you some small measure of justice, in the name of our king, Robert.† Every eye in the hall was fixed on him, waiting. Slowly Ned struggled to his feet, pushing himself up from the throne with the strength of his arms, his shattered leg screaming inside its cast. He did his best to ignore the pain; it was no moment to let them see his weakness. â€Å"The First Men believed that the judge who called for death should wield the sword, and in the north we hold to that still. I mislike sending another to do my killing . . . yet it seems I have no choice.† He gestured at his broken leg. â€Å"Lord Eddard!† The shout came from the west side of the hall as a handsome stripling of a boy strode forth boldly. Out of his armor, Ser Loras Tyrell looked even younger than his sixteen years. He wore pale blue silk, his belt a linked chain of golden roses, the sigil of his House. â€Å"I beg you the honor of acting in your place. Give this task to me, my lord, and I swear I shall not fail you.† Littlefinger chuckled. â€Å"Ser Loras, if we send you off alone, Ser Gregor will send us back your head with a plum stuffed in that pretty mouth of yours. The Mountain is not the sort to bend his neck to any man's justice.† â€Å"I do not fear Gregor Clegane,† Ser Loras said haughtily. Ned eased himself slowly back onto the hard iron seat of Aegon's misshapen throne. His eyes searched the faces along the wall. â€Å"Lord Beric,† he called out. â€Å"Thoros of Myr. Ser Gladden. Lord Lothar.† The men named stepped forward one by one. â€Å"Each of you is to assemble twenty men, to bring my word to Gregor's keep. Twenty of my own guards shall go with you. Lord Beric Dondarrion, you shall have the command, as befits your rank.† The young lord with the red-gold hair bowed. â€Å"As you command, Lord Eddard.† Ned raised his voice, so it carried to the far end of the throne room. â€Å"In the name of Robert of the House Baratheon, the First of his Name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, by the word of Eddard of the House Stark, his Hand, I charge you to ride to the westlands with all haste, to cross the Red Fork of the Trident under the king's flag, and there bring the king's justice to the false knight Gregor Clegane, and to all those who shared in his crimes. I denounce him, and attaint him, and strip him of all rank and titles, of all lands and incomes and holdings, and do sentence him to death. May the gods take pity on his soul.† When the echo of his words had died away, the Knight of Flowers seemed perplexed. â€Å"Lord Eddard, what of me?† Ned looked down on him. From on high, Loras Tyrell seemed almost as young as Robb. â€Å"No one doubts your valor, Ser Loras, but we are about justice here, and what you seek is vengeance.† He looked back to Lord Beric. â€Å"Ride at first light. These things are best done quickly.† He held up a hand. â€Å"The throne will hear no more petitions today.† Alyn and Porther climbed the steep iron steps to help him back down. As they made their descent, he could feel Loras Tyrell's sullen stare, but the boy had stalked away before Ned reached the floor of the throne room. At the base of the Iron Throne, Varys was gathering papers from the council table. Littlefinger and Grand Maester Pycelle had already taken their leave. â€Å"You are a bolder man than I, my lord,† the eunuch said softly. â€Å"How so, Lord Varys?† Ned asked brusquely. His leg was throbbing, and he was in no mood for word games. â€Å"Had it been me up there, I should have sent Ser Loras. He so wanted to go . . . and a man who has the Lannisters for his enemies would do well to make the Tyrells his friends.† â€Å"Ser Loras is young,† said Ned. â€Å"I daresay he will outgrow the disappointment.† â€Å"And Ser Ilyn?† The eunuch stroked a plump, powdered cheek. â€Å"He is the King's Justice, after all. Sending other men to do his office . . . some might construe that as a grave insult.† â€Å"No slight was intended.† In truth, Ned did not trust the mute knight, though perhaps that was only because he misliked executioners. â€Å"I remind you, the Paynes are bannermen to House Lannister. I thought it best to choose men who owed Lord Tywin no fealty.† â€Å"Very prudent, no doubt,† Varys said. â€Å"Still, I chanced to see Ser Ilyn in the back of the hall, staring at us with those pale eyes of his, and I must say, he did not look pleased, though to be sure it is hard to tell with our silent knight. I hope he outgrows his disappointment as well. He does so love his work . . . â€Å"

Saturday, January 4, 2020

My Personal Philosophy Of My Scholastic Career - 956 Words

Over the course of my scholastic career many life lessons have been implemented into my life through the curriculum I was taught by my teachers. A surprising amount of things really, one of the things I was always adamant would never really happen in a place so dreaded to me. Particularly in my middle school and high school years, I had to learn how to get along with others, overcome my lazy tendencies, and deal with large amounts of work that I found often overwhelming. Middle school was probably the hardest and most difficult time in my life. I was constantly moving, and dealing with becoming a teenager at the same time. You could say my priorities at the time were a little out of whack, with my mind on literally anything but school. I recall though in my memory of a teacher I had back then named Mrs. Caldwell, my religion teacher. I was always into religion, seeing as how I’m a very inquisitive person so having a class like this was like a prayer that had been answered. I recall studying cause effect in the chapter dealing with Zen Buddhism. The lesson was that everything you do comes full circle, good and bad, yin and yang. Simply put, what goes around comes around. However, my teacher used a very unique method to instill not only the knowledge of cause and effect, but also to instill a bit of the practice into our lives. For example if she witnessed someone commit a good deed during the day at any point, she would reward us as if to play the role of ‘goodShow MoreRelated My Philosophy of Education Essay688 Words   |  3 PagesPhilosophy of Education What is my philosophy of education? For hours I have tried to decide what exactly that is. However after much thought I have not been able to come up with an exact answer. After much consideration I have decided that I have no real philosophy but I have goals that one day I will achieve. Although the goals sound simple I know that they will be difficult to attain. I have almost always wanted to teach. 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