Dare essay rubric

Weinger speaks of an “intellectual victory of capitalism,” yet he offers nothing more than its (assumed) acceptance as the current form of dominant thought as evidence for this claim. It is hardly shocking, again, to see that he has little consideration for why, perhaps, this current state of affairs might be; he seems more interested in dogmatically asserting (in a typically conservative way) that capitalism is, and, if he a) stands to gain from it and, not unrelatedly, b) does not take seriously criticisms of the status quo (insofar as he’s even familiar with them), is desirable. This article, like much that passes for thought in our society, would be well accompanied by a consideration of the writings of Antonio Gramsci, notably his theory of hegemony.

More importantly, there is another practice taken from antiquity which they adopted: the cleansing of the hands. The hand and face washing that precedes ritual prayer is no invention of Moslems. Islamic followers adopted it in the seventh century based on Christian prayer practices. Christians used to wash themselves, or at least their hands, before praying. A water fountain stood in the forecourt of churches precisely for this purpose. In the atrium of St. Peter’s in Rome, there stood the famous stone pine fountain. A sarcophagus from Ravenna portrays such a washing bowl: a cantharus (deep bowl) adorned with peacocks.

However, realistically speaking, the inclusive community must have its hierarchies. One will be a hierarchy of skills, talents, and achievements. I learned in college that I would never be as brilliant as the young woman who graduated first in our class—no matter how hard I worked. A prodigy, she excelled in all subjects, sang, directed plays, and was likeable as well as admirable. Allen writes that ideal institutions will “lift the educational level of the entire population as high as possible while also making it possible for those with special gifts to achieve the highest heights of intellectual and creative excellence.” Still another hierarchy will be the hard-won faculty control over the curriculum. Finally, the demands of administering the inclusive community breed a third hierarchy. Some offices simply have more authority and obligations than others. Democratic processes can choose the officeholders, but once chosen, a man or woman has a hard job to do. He or she must articulate an institution’s mission, exercise power responsibly, make and defend tangled decisions, broker the needs of many constituencies, handle emergencies both grave and ludicrous. I once heard one of the most brilliant young college presidents in the United States say that students usually called her by her first name, but in times of stress and trial, she was President X.

The wind blew again and I went back to my daydreaming. My husband had been out for three days looking for any job available. We had planned to be at least in a home that put a roof over our heads but we accomplished nothing. Most of our close friends that had traveled with us already had a job and housing. The feeling bothered me. I looked around and saw some of the families huddled under their tents. I don’t want to be like this anymore I thought. But yet again there was nothing I could do. Sometimes I felt angry with myself. As if I wasn’t trying my hardest, but eventually it would just turn to sorrow.

Sandra Cisneros short story “Eleven” is a unique story filled with distinctive thoughts and an interesting overall plot. Filled with exhilaration and humor, it depicts an eleven-year-old girl’s eleventh birthday. Yet, underneath the age of eleven, this girl believes she is still ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, and even one! According to her, all your younger emotions are still in you as you grow older. For instance, sometimes you might cry and act as though you are three. But no matter what she thinks, she is turning eleven on the day described in the story.

Dare essay rubric

dare essay rubric

The wind blew again and I went back to my daydreaming. My husband had been out for three days looking for any job available. We had planned to be at least in a home that put a roof over our heads but we accomplished nothing. Most of our close friends that had traveled with us already had a job and housing. The feeling bothered me. I looked around and saw some of the families huddled under their tents. I don’t want to be like this anymore I thought. But yet again there was nothing I could do. Sometimes I felt angry with myself. As if I wasn’t trying my hardest, but eventually it would just turn to sorrow.

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