Showing posts with label Peggie Mcneil. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Peggie Mcneil. Show all posts
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Critique " The Perils of indifference" by Peggie McNeil
This is a short but powerfully written essay, and I enjoyed reading it. It ask the tough questions that the U.S turned a deaf ear too. It took years,and much suffering, many deaths ,and unimaginable pain before the U.S. responded to the plight of the Jewish people . Perhaps, the U.S., being a profit driven Country that can turn a blind eye to the plight and suffer of others, saw no profit in helping the Jewish people at that time. The U.S. has a history of being indifferent to the plight of many people from foreign lands who ,in many cases,boarded make-shift crafts in search of a better life for their families and themselves, only to be turned around and left to perish at the might of the sea. These were the poorest of the poor without anything to offer. We should not judge a person's wealth by the size of his bank account, but by the size of his heart. The movie The Pianist, is a good spin off for this essay ,or maybe a movie where the U.S. is actually living up to what's written on the Statue of Liberty,"Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door."
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Critique " Why I Want a Wife" by Peggie McNeil
The essay , Why I Want a Wife, by Judy Brady, is delightful. I really enjoy this type essay. It is lighthearted, picturesque, springy, bouncy, funny, and entertaining. Her sense of humor reminds me of Erma Bombeck's.
I think that Judy was the wife she wrote about in this essay because I can feel her heart in it. She thought of all the things she had done to make a happy home for her family, and how wonderful it would be to have someone to do these things for her for a change. She is comparing her life as a female ,during that era, to the male's life.
Judy almost made me wish I had a wife, but I decided on a husband with those same qualities and traits ; however, he would come with a few extras.
Besides all of his responsibilities at home, he would also have a job. He would be at least 6ft., 4in. tall and have a physique like Tyson Bedford's; In fact, I wouldn't be upset if he looks like him too. He would shower me with gifts at all times, keep them coming, baby. He would insisted that I pick out the sharpest BMW on the car lot because he wants his wife to drive in style, and he would demand to make the payments each month. He would perform a moonlight serenade nightly, regardless of the weather. He would give great back massages and pedicures.
Boy, what a great hubby he would be, and then I woke up. I saw my husband leaning back in the recliner drinking a beer. Maybe God does have a sense of humor.
,
I think that Judy was the wife she wrote about in this essay because I can feel her heart in it. She thought of all the things she had done to make a happy home for her family, and how wonderful it would be to have someone to do these things for her for a change. She is comparing her life as a female ,during that era, to the male's life.
Judy almost made me wish I had a wife, but I decided on a husband with those same qualities and traits ; however, he would come with a few extras.
Besides all of his responsibilities at home, he would also have a job. He would be at least 6ft., 4in. tall and have a physique like Tyson Bedford's; In fact, I wouldn't be upset if he looks like him too. He would shower me with gifts at all times, keep them coming, baby. He would insisted that I pick out the sharpest BMW on the car lot because he wants his wife to drive in style, and he would demand to make the payments each month. He would perform a moonlight serenade nightly, regardless of the weather. He would give great back massages and pedicures.
Boy, what a great hubby he would be, and then I woke up. I saw my husband leaning back in the recliner drinking a beer. Maybe God does have a sense of humor.
,
Monday, September 15, 2008
Essay Critique" Talking Back" by Peggie Mcneil
I can feel her. She speaks with conviction. Eloquently and powerfully,She presented the facts, and nothing but the facts. No fluff, no melodrama, just plain truth the way she saw it, and to me the way it was ,and still is within society . I can relate to her plight, because I too lived that life up until I decided enough already. My mom wielded words like King Arthur wielded Excalibur, and you had better not "talk back". There was not to be any back talking in that house, because if you did ,be prepared to get knocked out. I remember writing my thoughts on any surface, even the bathroom wall. Not mine, of course. I think I cussed my mom out a least a thousand times to myself. Although I had a voice, it was slowly drying up, like a raisin in the sun.
Not only could you not talk back to your parents, you could not talk back to any adults without suffering the same consequences.One day I threw all caution to the wind, and talked back to my aunt, my mom's oldest sister, the big cheese. I had not gone to school that day, and she asked me why I didn't go to school . I replied by saying"why are you worrying about it?. You aren't my mom". Big trouble, she charged at me like she was a big ole bull, and I was wearing all red. She was all over me, like a cheap suit. I learned to speak without words after that experience.
I have a sister that is about seven years younger than I. She and my mom butted heads almost from day one , so it seems. My mom was always riding her, and I grew tried of it. I would champion her cause without saying a word. One day my sister got into trouble with my mom, and she was going to get a beating. My mom started beating her with a switch, and I heard her crying and screaming. My blood boiled, and I again threw all caution to the wind. I went into the room and just looked at my mom. She stopped beating my sister, and I went over to my sister and took her from the room. I was no longer afraid.
As a parent, I never raised my voice. I was cool, calm, and wielded a look that could stop you in your tracks, and worked it. Yes, my mom ruled the roost, strutting around like the queen bee herself, but I too ruled my roost, without saying an angry word.
The power of speech can be a powerful tool in your arsenal, and I respect that fact, but you can sometimes speak with saying a word, and I respect that too.
Not only could you not talk back to your parents, you could not talk back to any adults without suffering the same consequences.One day I threw all caution to the wind, and talked back to my aunt, my mom's oldest sister, the big cheese. I had not gone to school that day, and she asked me why I didn't go to school . I replied by saying"why are you worrying about it?. You aren't my mom". Big trouble, she charged at me like she was a big ole bull, and I was wearing all red. She was all over me, like a cheap suit. I learned to speak without words after that experience.
I have a sister that is about seven years younger than I. She and my mom butted heads almost from day one , so it seems. My mom was always riding her, and I grew tried of it. I would champion her cause without saying a word. One day my sister got into trouble with my mom, and she was going to get a beating. My mom started beating her with a switch, and I heard her crying and screaming. My blood boiled, and I again threw all caution to the wind. I went into the room and just looked at my mom. She stopped beating my sister, and I went over to my sister and took her from the room. I was no longer afraid.
As a parent, I never raised my voice. I was cool, calm, and wielded a look that could stop you in your tracks, and worked it. Yes, my mom ruled the roost, strutting around like the queen bee herself, but I too ruled my roost, without saying an angry word.
The power of speech can be a powerful tool in your arsenal, and I respect that fact, but you can sometimes speak with saying a word, and I respect that too.
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Essay Critique" Workers" by Peggie Mcneil
Oh boy, whew! I just completed reading the Essay entitled " Workers" by Richard Rodriguez, and i must said, he wont make my favorite writers list. I found the tone of the essay rather pompous, the attitude condescending, the language descriptive in some areas ,and belittling in others. He displayed a flare for melodrama, and viewed the world through tunnel vision.
I say the tone was pompous because he made sure to mention that he was a student at Stanford.Then he went on to mention that the contractor was a Princeton grad. Another example he stated " It would be manual labor". He talked his about expensive hotels , his double breasted Italian suit ,and his custom made English shoes. He went on to said " my father was correct, I wont know real work". He stated how he visited a school in the ghetto , whereas, he seized up the entire student body as being " future less". He made no attempt to talk with the Mexican workers, although he too was Mexican, because he felt that he was better than them.
The attitude of the essay was condescending, and he appeared to be looking down on the poor and everyone he perceived as being poor . He thought the craftsmen were poor until he heard them talking about vacations and other things that the poor can't afford to do. He seemed disappointed that they weren't. He was shock to find out that some of them were college education and appreciated art.
The language of the essay was descriptive, especially when describing himself "the torso , the soccer player's calves and thighs,arms of a twenty years old". He describe the men hands as being hard, and some of the men as being rough. I said it was belittling because he italicized the Spanish words as if he was making fun of the language.
He display melodrama by stated such things as "and at last grasp desire" , and " desire uncoiled within me". Please, man, get a grip. The Thesis of the Essay is "I came face to face with the poor". Yes, he did come face to face with them, and he didn't like what he saw.
I say the tone was pompous because he made sure to mention that he was a student at Stanford.Then he went on to mention that the contractor was a Princeton grad. Another example he stated " It would be manual labor". He talked his about expensive hotels , his double breasted Italian suit ,and his custom made English shoes. He went on to said " my father was correct, I wont know real work". He stated how he visited a school in the ghetto , whereas, he seized up the entire student body as being " future less". He made no attempt to talk with the Mexican workers, although he too was Mexican, because he felt that he was better than them.
The attitude of the essay was condescending, and he appeared to be looking down on the poor and everyone he perceived as being poor . He thought the craftsmen were poor until he heard them talking about vacations and other things that the poor can't afford to do. He seemed disappointed that they weren't. He was shock to find out that some of them were college education and appreciated art.
The language of the essay was descriptive, especially when describing himself "the torso , the soccer player's calves and thighs,arms of a twenty years old". He describe the men hands as being hard, and some of the men as being rough. I said it was belittling because he italicized the Spanish words as if he was making fun of the language.
He display melodrama by stated such things as "and at last grasp desire" , and " desire uncoiled within me". Please, man, get a grip. The Thesis of the Essay is "I came face to face with the poor". Yes, he did come face to face with them, and he didn't like what he saw.
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