Biography of Jrd Tata - 1644 Words

|JEHANGIR RATANJI DADABHOY TATA | | | |Jehangir Ratanji Dadabhoy Tata popularly known as JRD Tata was one of the most enterprising Indian entrepreneurs. He was a pioneer | |aviator and built one of the largest industrial houses of India. He had the honour of being Indias first pilot, he was Chairman of | |Tata Sons for 50 years and launched Air India International as Indias first international airline. He was awarded Indias highest | |civilian award, the Bharat Ratna in 1992.†¦show more content†¦He later came to be known as the â€Å"father of Indian civil aviation†. In 1938, at the age of 34, he became Chairman of Tata Sons, the holding Company of the Tata Group. For decades, J R D directed the huge Tata Group of companies, with major interests in Steel, Engineering, Power, Chemicals and Hospitality. He was famous for succeeding in business while maintaining high ethical standards - refusing to bribe politicians or use the black market. He started with 14 enterprises under his leadership, when he left, Tata Sons was a conglomerate of 95 enterprises which they either started or in which they had controlling interest, mmonetarily, the assets of Tata group grew from Rs 620 Million to over Rs 100 Billion. He faced severe problems like foreign exchange crunch and severe government controls on big business, but all these could not deter him. He was a great leader and motivator. He encouraged entrepreneurs such as Sir Homi Mody, Russi Mody, Sumant Moolgaokar and Darbari Seth, and many others. In 1938, at the age of thirty-four, he became the chairman of the largest industrial group in India, which he led with distinction for fifty-two years. Aviation and flying was his first love but J.R.D. had lot of interest in collecting books. He was not only collector of books but was an avid and enthusiastic reader. He preferred to spend a good deal of his time in what appeared to be his study. There was a whole shelf of booksShow MoreRelatedIndia Business Quiz1949 Words   |  8 Pagesamp; an excuse to shop, they will come are the Golden words of whom? Ans:  Kishore Bayani (The Chairman of Future Group) 2. What is the Title of Auto Biography of JRD TATA? Ans:  Beyond the Last Blue Mountain 3. What is the Title of Auto Biography of Krishna Kumar Birla? Ans:  Brushes with History 4. It happened in India is the Auto Biography of whom? Ans:  Kishore Bayani (The Chairman of Future Group) 5. The End of Ecconomic Man is the famous book written by whom? Ans:  Peter F Drucker

Illusion and Reality in Arthur Millers Death of a...

Illusion and Reality in Arthur Millers Death of a Salesman In Arthur Miller’s Death of a Salesman, Willy is depicted as living in his own world. The play centers around the end of Willy’s life, when the real world comes crashing through, ruining the false reality he had created for himself and his family. Throughout the play, Willy Loman uses the concept of being well liked to build a false image of reality, as shown through his teachings to his son, what he considers successful, and his reasoning for committing suicide. Willy teaches Biff the concept of being well-liked, reinforcing his own belief in the ideology and furthering his false sense of reality. Willy Loman subscribes to this view and has taught his sons to†¦show more content†¦Biff’s failure comes from the fact that once high school is over, nothing happens. Biff does not go on to be a great businessman or anything like that. Instead he goes from job to job, not making his fortune like Willy thought he would. This poked a hole in the world that Willy had presented to Biff and Happy. Willy even convinced himself that being well liked was the key to a successful life, and chose to believe that he was well liked. Like the legendary Dave Singleman, he wants to be well liked (Dukore 21). Because the man who makes an appearance in the business world, the man who creates personal interest, is the man who gets ahead. Be liked and you will never want. You take me, for instance. I never have to wait in line to see a buyer (Miller 33). Even when he doubts his charisma, Linda is right there to tell him otherwise. Willy Loman never acknowledges or learns the error of his way. To the very end he is a devout believer in the ideology that destroys him. He believes that life’s problems are all solved by making oneself well liked and by a little cash. His wife knows only that he is a good man and that she must continue to love him (Hurrell 66). The concept of being well liked is one of the reasons for Willy’s death. He thinks that Biff would be able to use Willy’s life insurance money for starting him out on the right foot at last. Thus Willy lived by his dreamsShow MoreRelated Reality and Illusion in Arthur Miller’s Death of a Salesman Essay1088 Words   |  5 PagesReality and Illusion in Arthur Miller’s Death of a Salesman In Arthur Miller’s play, Death of a Salesman, a major theme and source of conflict is the Loman family’s inability to distinguish between reality and illusion.   This is particularly evident in the father, Willy Loman.   Willy has created a fantasy world of himself and his family.   In this world, he and his sons are men of greatness that â€Å"have what it takes† to make it in the business environment.   In reality, none of them can achieveRead MoreDeath Of A Salesman: Illusion In An American Tragedy Essay1738 Words   |  7 PagesWhen the realities of life become too harsh, humankind has a natural tendency to choose the most convenient solution to his problem: illusion. They build dreams and fantasies to conceal the more difficult truths of their lives. In his play Death of a Salesman, Arthur Miller portrays the hold of such illusions on individuals and its horrible consequences. Through the overly average, overly typical Loman family, Miller shows how dreams of a better life become, as Choudhuri put it, â€Å"fantasies to theRead More Illusion Versus Reality in Death of a Salesman Essay1532 Words   |  7 PagesIllusion Versus Reality in Death of a Salesman  Ã‚   A major theme and source of conflict throughout Millers play, Death of a Salesman, is the Loman familys inability to distinguish between reality and illusion.   This is particularly evident in the father, Willy Loman.   Willy has created a fantasy world for himself and his family.   In this world, he and his sons are men of greatness that have what it takes to make it in the business environment.   In reality, none of them can achieve greatnessRead MoreLiving in the Past in Arthur Millers Death of a Salesman Essay1367 Words   |  6 PagesArthur Miller, A play writer in the twentieth century, wrote a play entitled Death of a salesman that won him the Pulitzer Price just a year after its release. In the play Miller expresses the life of a 60 year old salesman that undergoes through lack of success in his life and sees the same thing happening ,to his two grown sons now in their mid-thirties, as the American dream faded away being replaced by capitalism in the late 1940s. The play starts of by introducing Willy Loman, the protagonistRead MoreThe American Dream in Death of a Salesman by Arthur Miller1127 Words   |  5 PagesMany people dream of the American dream. To have a big house, two kids and a picket fence. In Arthur Miller’s play Death of a Salesman every character uses lies and deceit as a way to escape reality. With this said, it is only Biff’s character that is dynamic, realizing the error of his ways. Constantly, each character escapes their problems with deceit. Even Biff remains in this state of falsehood, until he reaches his epiphany. The main character Willy Loman, is constantly fooling himself intoRead MoreDeath Of A Salesman Self Deception Essay1447 Words   |  6 PagesAn individual’s ability to successfully recognize the reality from illusions is significantly influenced by their understanding of themselves. Many choose to use self-perception to prevent themselves from the realization of living through self-deception. However, in Arthur Miller’s modern play, Death of a Salesman, Miller explores the relationship between self-deception and reality through the character development of Biff Loman. Initially, Biff’s perception of himself is tremendously influencedRead MoreCharacteristics Of Willy Loman A Tragic Hero834 Words   |  4 PagesWilly Loman a Tragic Hero? Death Of a Salesman is a 1949 play written by american playwright Arthur Miller. It is a breathtaking play about Willy Loman, a salesman, trying to chase a dream that died long ago. It expresses how the old man’s life comes crumbling down with his last few attempts to make some of his dream reality and help his family in debt. Now people are debating weather Willy loman fits the right characteristics to be classified as a tragic hero. A tragic hero is someone who makesRead MoreDeath Of A Salesman Literary Analysis768 Words   |  4 PagesFormal Essay 2: Drama Arthur Miller’s Death of a Salesman is based in post-World War II America where a man named Willy Loman has the hopes and dreams of becoming a well-esteemed, successful salesman. However, throughout the play, it becomes evident his pride and delusion interfere with this dream and having the model family. The playwright uses symbolism and several forms of irony throughout the play to deepen the plot and intensify the conflict, as well as further illustrate the characters. ThroughoutRead MoreA Comparison of Tennessee Williams ´ The Glass Menagerie and Arthur Miller ´s Death of a Salesman1158 Words   |  5 Pages The Glass Menagerie by Tennessee Williams and Death of a Salesman by Arthur Miller are two of the twentieth century’s best-known plays. The differences and similarities between both of the plays are hidden in their historical and social contexts. The characters of The Glass Menagerie and the Death of a Salesman are trapped by the constraints of their everyday lives, unable to communicate with their loved ones and being fearful for their future. There are a lot of comparisons thatRead MoreThemes Of Death Of A Salesman1286 Words   |  6 PagesA Blanketed Illusion Death of a Salesman is a tragicomedy centered on the events that take place at the end of Willy Loman’s life. From the opening act, we learn that Willy and his family struggle to behave as a united front when they face financial pressures and strained familial bonds. This causes Willy to become desperate for success and validation. Death of a Salesman has commonly been interpreted as an analysis of the American dream. Within the ideal American society, citizens believe that the

The Stupidest Angel Chapter 4 Free Essays

Chapter 4 HAVE YOURSELF A NASTY LITTLE CHRISTMAS Josh wiped the tears off his face, took a deep breath, and headed up the walk to his house. He was still shaking from having seen Santa take a shovel in the throat, but now it occurred to him that it might not be enough to get him out of trouble. The first thing his mom would say was, Well, what were you doing out so late anyway? And dumb Brian, who was not Josh’s real dad but Mom’s dumb boyfriend, would say, â€Å"Yeah, Santa would probably still be alive if you hadn’t stayed so long at Sam’s house. We will write a custom essay sample on The Stupidest Angel Chapter 4 or any similar topic only for you Order Now † So, there on the front step, he decided to go with total hysteria. He started breathing hard, pumping up some tears, got a good whimpering sob going, then opened the door with a dieseling back sniffle. He fell onto the welcome mat and let loose with a full fire-truck-siren wail. And nothing happened. No one said a word. No one came running. So Josh crawled into the living room, trailing a nice fiber-optic string of drool from his lower lip to the carpet as he chanted a mucusy â€Å"Momma,† knowing that it would completely disarm her temper and get her all fired up to protect him from dumb Brian, for whom he had no magic manipulation chant. But nobody called him, nobody came running, dumb Brian was not sprawled across the couch like the great sleepy slug that he was. Josh wound it down. â€Å"Mom?† Just the hint of a sob there, ready to go full bore again when she answered. He went into the kitchen, where the memo light was blinking on Mom’s machine. Josh wiped his nose on his sleeve and hit the button. â€Å"Hi, Joshy,† his mom said, her cheerful overtired voice. â€Å"Brian and I had to go out to eat with some buyers. There’s a Stouffer’s mac and cheese in the freezer. We should be home before eight. Do your homework. Call my cell if you get scared.† Josh couldn’t believe the luck. He checked the clock on the microwave. Only seven-thirty. Excellent! Latch-keyed loose like a magic elf. Yes! Dumb Brian had come through with a business dinner. He grabbed the Stouffer’s out of the freezer, popped it – box and all – into the microwave, and hit the preset time. You didn’t really have to peel the plastic back like they said. If you just nuke it in the box, the cardboard will keep it from exploding all over the microwave when the plastic goes. Josh didn’t know why they didn’t just put that in the instructions. He went back into the living room, turned on the TV, and plopped down on the floor in front of it to wait for the microwave to beep. Maybe he should call Sam, he thought. Tell him about Santa. But Sam didn’t believe in Santa. He said that Santa was just something the goys made up to make them feel better about not having a menorah. That was crap, of course. Goys (a Jewish word for girls and boys, Sam had explained) didn’t want a menorah. They wanted toys. Sam was just saying that because he was mad because instead of Christmas they had snipped the tip of his penis off and said mazel tov. â€Å"Wow, sucks to be you,† said Josh. â€Å"We’re the Chosen,† said Sam. â€Å"Not for kickball† â€Å"Shut up.† â€Å"No, you shut up.† â€Å"No, you shut up.† Sam was Josh’s best friend and they understood each other, but would Sam know what to do about a murder? Especially a murder of an important person? You were supposed to go to an adult in these situations, Josh was pretty sure of it. Fire, an injured friend, a bad touch, you were supposed to tell an adult, a parent, a teacher, or a policeman, and no one would be mad at you. (But if you found your mom’s boyfriend lighting a giant chili-dog-and-beer fart in the garage workshop, the police absolutely did not want to know about it. Josh had learned that lesson the hard way.) A commercial came on, and Josh’s mac and cheese was still surfing the microwaves, so he debated calling 911 or praying, and decided to go with the prayer. Like calling 911, you weren’t supposed to pray for just anything. For instance, God did not care whether or not you got your bandicoot through the fire level on PlayStation, and if you asked for help there, there was a good chance that he would ignore you when you really needed help, like for a spelling test or if your mom got cancer. Josh reckoned it was sort of like cell-phone minutes, but this seemed like a real emergency. â€Å"Our Heavenly Father,† Josh began. You never used God’s first name – that was like a commandment or something. â€Å"This is Josh Barker, six-seventy-one Worchester Street, Pine Cove, California nine-three-seven, five-four. I saw Santa tonight, which was great, and thank you for that, but then, right after I saw him, he got killed with a shovel, and so, I’m afraid that there’s not going to be any Christmas and I’ve been good, which I’m sure you’ll see if you check Santa’s list, so if you don’t mind could you please make Santa come back to life and make everything okay for Christmas?† No, no, no, that sounded really selfish. Quickly he added: â€Å"And a Happy Hanukkah to you and all the Jewish people like Sam and his family. Mazel tov.† There. Perfect. He felt a lot better. The microwave beeped and Josh ran to the kitchen, right into the legs of a really tall man in a long black coat who was standing by the counter. Josh screamed and the man took him by the arms, picked him up, and looked him over like he was a gemstone or a really tasty dessert. Josh kicked and squirmed, but the blond man held him fast. â€Å"You’re a child,† said the blond man. Josh stopped kicking for a second and looked into the impossibly blue eyes of the stranger, who was now studying him in much the same way a bear might examine a portable television while wondering how to get all those tasty little people out of it. â€Å"Well, duh,† said Josh. The Christmas tree took a wide left onto Cypress Street. Finding that somewhat suspicious, Constable Theophilus Crowe pulled in behind it as he dug the little blue light out of the glove compartment of his Volvo and stuck it on the roof. Theo was relatively sure that there was a vehicle under the Christmas tree somewhere, but all he could see right now were the taillights shining through the branches in the back. As he followed the tree up Cypress, past the burger stand and Brine’s Bait, Tackle, and Fine Wines, a pinecone the size of a Nerf football broke loose and rolled off to the side of the street, bouncing and thumping into one of the gas pumps. Theo hit the siren one time, just a chirp, thinking he’d better stop this before someone got hurt. There was no way that the driver under the Christmas tree could see the road clearly. The tree was driving trunk first, so the widest, thickest branches were covering the front of the vehicle. The tree’s tires chirped with a downshift. It killed the lights and screeched around the corner on Worchester Street, leaving a trail of rolling pinecones and pine-fresh exhaust. Under normal circumstances, if a suspect tried to elude Theo, he would have called it into the county sheriff’s immediately, hoping a deputy in the area might provide backup, but he’d be damned if he was going to call in that he was in hot pursuit of a fugitive Christmas tree. Theo turned the siren onto full shriek and took off up the hill after the fleeing conifer, thinking for the fiftieth time that day that life had seemed a lot easier when he’d smoked pot. â€Å"Boy, you don’t see that every day,† said Tucker Case, who was sitting at a window table at H.P.’s Caf, waiting for Lena to come back from freshening up in the rest-room. H.P.’s – a mix of pseudo Tudor and Country Kitchen Cute – was Pine Cove’s most popular restaurant, and tonight it was completely packed. The waitress, a pretty redhead in her forties, glanced up from the tray of drinks she was delivering and said, â€Å"Yeah, Theo hardly ever chases anyone.† â€Å"That Volvo was chasing a pine tree,† Tuck said. â€Å"Could be,† said the waitress. â€Å"Theo used to do a lot of drugs.† â€Å"No, really – † Tuck tried to explain, but she had headed back to the kitchen. Lena was returning to the table. She was still in the black tank top under an open flannel shirt, but she had washed the streaks of mud from her face and her dark hair was brushed out around her shoulders. To Tuck she looked like the sexy but tough Indian guide chick in the movies, who always leads the group of nerdy businessmen into the wilderness where they are assaulted by vicious rednecks, bears gone mutant from exposure to phosphate laundry detergent, or ancient Indian spirits with a grudge. â€Å"You look great,† Tuck said. â€Å"Are you Native American?† â€Å"What was the siren about?† Lena asked, sliding into the seat across from him. â€Å"Nothing. A traffic thing.† â€Å"This is just so wrong.† She looked around, as if everyone knew how wrong it was. â€Å"Wrong.† â€Å"No, it’s good,† Tuck said with a big smile, trying to make his blue eyes twinkle in the candlelight, but forgetting where exactly his twinkle muscles were located. â€Å"We’ll have a nice meal, get to know each other a little.† She leaned over the table and whispered harshly, â€Å"There’s a dead man out there. A man I used to be married to.† â€Å"Shh, shh, shh,† Tuck shushed, gently placing a finger against her lip, trying to sound comforting and maybe a little European. â€Å"Now is not the time to talk of this, my sweet.† She grabbed his finger and bent it back. â€Å"I don’t know what to do.† Tuck was twisted in his seat, leaning back to relieve the unnatural angle in which his finger was pointing. â€Å"Appetizer?† he suggested. â€Å"Salad?† Lena let go of his finger and covered her face with her hands. â€Å"I can’t do this.† â€Å"What? It’s just dinner,† said Tuck. â€Å"No pressure.† He had never really dated much – gone on dates, that is. He’d met and seduced a lot of women, but it was never over a series of evenings with dinner and conversation – usually just some drinks and vulgarity at an airport hotel lounge had done the trick. He felt it was time he behaved like a grown-up – get to know a woman before he slept with her. His therapist had suggested it right before she’d stopped treating him, right after he’d hit on her. It wasn’t going to be easy. In his experience things went a lot better with women before they got to know him, when they could still project hope and potential on him. â€Å"We just buried my ex-husband,† Lena said. â€Å"Sure, sure, but then we delivered Christmas trees to the poor. A little perspective, huh? A lot of people have buried their spouses.† â€Å"Not personally. With the shovel they killed him with.† â€Å"You may want to keep it down a little.† Tuck checked the diners at the nearby tables to see if they were listening, but they all seemed to be discussing the pine tree that had just driven by. â€Å"Let’s talk about something else. Interests? Hobbies? Movies?† Lena tossed her head as if she didn’t hear him right, then stared as if to say, Are you nuts? â€Å"Well, for instance,† he pressed on, â€Å"I rented the strangest movie last night. Did you know that Babes in Toyland was a Christmas movie?† â€Å"Of course, what did you think it was?† â€Å"Well, I thought, well – now it’s your turn. What’s your favorite movie?† Lena leaned close to Tuck and searched his eyes to see if he might be joking. Tuck batted his eyelashes, trying to look innocent. â€Å"Who are you?† Lena finally asked. â€Å"I told you.† â€Å"But, what’s wrong with you? You shouldn’t be so – so calm, while I’m a nervous wreck. Have you done this kind of thing before?† â€Å"Sure. Are you kidding? I’m a pilot, I’ve eaten in restaurants all over the world.† â€Å"Not dinner, you idiot! I know you’ve had dinner before! What, are you retarded?† â€Å"Okay, now everybody is looking. You can’t just say ‘retarded’ in public like that – people take offense because, you know, many of them are. You’re supposed to say ‘developmentally disabled. â€Å" Lena stood up and threw her napkin on the table. â€Å"Tucker, thank you for helping me, but I can’t do this. I’m going to go talk to the police.† She turned and stormed through the restaurant toward the door. â€Å"We’ll be back,† Tuck called to the waitress. He nodded to the nearby tables. â€Å"Sorry. She’s a little high-strung. She didn’t mean to say ‘retarded. † Then he went after Lena, snatching his leather jacket off the back of his chair as he went. He caught up with her as she was rounding the corner of the building into the parking lot. He caught her by the shoulder and spun her around, making sure that she saw that he was smiling when she completed the turn. Blinking Christmas lights played red and green highlights across her dark hair, making the scowl she was aiming at him seem festive. â€Å"Leave me alone, Tucker. I’m going to the police. I’ll just explain that it was just an accident.† â€Å"No. I won’t let you. You can’t.† â€Å"Why can’t I?† â€Å"Because I’m your alibi.† â€Å"If I turn myself in, I won’t need an alibi.† â€Å"I know.† â€Å"Well?† â€Å"I want to spend Christmas with you.† Lena softened, her eyes going wide, the swell of a tear watering up in one eye. â€Å"Really?† â€Å"Really.† Tuck was more than a little uncomfortable with his own honesty – he was standing like someone had just poured hot coffee in his lap and he was trying to keep the front of his pants from touching him. Lena held out her arms and Tuck walked into them, guiding her hands inside his jacket and around his ribs. He rested his cheek against her hair and took a deep breath, enjoying the smell of her shampoo and the residual pine scent picked up from handling the Christmas trees. She didn’t smell like a murderer – she smelled like a woman. â€Å"Okay,† she whispered. â€Å"I don’t know who you are, Tucker Case, but I think I’d like to spend Christmas with you, too.† She buried her face in his chest and held him until there was a thump against his back, followed by a loud scratching noise on his jacket. She pushed him back just as the fruit bat peeked his little doggie face over the pilot’s shoulder and barked. Lena leaped back and screamed like a bunny in a blender. â€Å"What in the hell is that?† she asked, backing across the parking lot. â€Å"Roberto,† Tuck said. â€Å"I mentioned him before.† â€Å"This is too weird. Too weird.† Lena began to chant and pace in a circle, glancing up at Tuck and his bat every couple of seconds. She paused. â€Å"He’s wearing sunglasses.† â€Å"Yeah, and don’t think it’s easy finding Ray-Bans in a fruit-bat medium.† Meanwhile, up at the Santa Rosa Chapel, Constable Theophilus Crowe had finally caught up to the fugitive Christmas tree. He trained the headlights of the Volvo on the suspect evergreen and stood behind the car door for cover. If he’d had a public-address system he would have used it to issue commands, but since the county had never given him one, he shouted. â€Å"Get out of the vehicle, hands first, and turn and face me!† If he’d had a weapon he would have drawn it, but he’d left his Glock on the top shelf of his closet next to Molly’s old nicked-up broadsword. He realized that the car door was actually only providing cover to the lower third of his body, and he reached down and rolled up the window. Then, feeling awkward, he slammed the door and loped toward the Christmas tree. â€Å"Goddammit, come out of the tree. Right now!† He heard a car window whiz down and then a voice. â€Å"Oh my, Officer, you are so forceful.† A familiar voice. Somewhere under there was a Honda CRV – and the woman he had married. â€Å"Molly?† He should have known. Even when she stayed on her meds, as she had promised she would, she could still be â€Å"artistic.† Her term. The branches of the big pine tree shuffled and out stepped his wife, wearing a green Santa hat, jeans, red sneakers, and a jean jacket with studs down the sleeves. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail that trailed down her back. She might have been a biker elf. She rushed out of the branches as if she were ducking the blades of a helicopter, then ran to his side. â€Å"Look at this magnificent son of a bitch!† She gestured to the tree, put her arm around his waist, pulled him close, humped his leg a little. â€Å"Isn’t it great?† â€Å"It certainly is – uh, large. How’d you get it on the car? â€Å"Took some time. I hoisted it up on some ropes, then drove under it. Do you think there’ll be a flat spot where it dragged on the road?† Theo looked the tree up and down, back and forth, watched the car exhaust boiling out of the branches. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but he had to ask. â€Å"You didn’t buy this at the hardware store, did you?† â€Å"No, there was a problem with that. But I saved a ton of money. Cut it myself. Completely totaled my broadsword, but look at this son of a bitch. Look at this glorious bastard!† â€Å"You cut it down with your sword?† Theo wasn’t so worried about what she had cut it down with, but from where she’d cut it. He had a secret in the forest near their cabin. â€Å"Yeah. We don’t have a chain saw that I don’t know about, do we?† â€Å"No.† Actually they did, in the garage, hidden behind some paint cans. He’d hidden it when her  «artistic » moments had been more frequent. â€Å"That’s not the problem, sweetie. I think the problem is that it’s too big.† â€Å"No,† she said, walking the length of the tree now, pausing to jump through the branches and turn off the Honda’s engine. â€Å"That’s where you’re wrong. Observe, double doors into the chapel.† Theo observed. The chapel did, indeed, have double doors. There was a single mercury lamp illuminating the gravel parking lot, but he could clearly see the little white chapel, the shadows of gravestones showing dimly behind it – a graveyard where they’d been planting Pine Covers for a hundred years. â€Å"And the ceiling in the main room is thirty feet tall at the peak. This tree is only twenty-nine feet tall. We pull it through the doors backward and stand that baby up. I’ll need your help, but, you know, you don’t mind.† â€Å"I don’t?† Molly pulled open her jean jacket and flashed Theo, exposing his favorite breasts, right down to the shiny scar that ran across the top of the right one, cocked up like a curious purple eyebrow. It was like unexpectedly running into two tender friends, both a little pale from being out of the sun, a tad humbled by time, but with alert pink noses upturned by the night chill. And as quickly as they appeared, the jacket was pulled shut and Theo felt like he’d been shut out in the cold. â€Å"Okay, I don’t mind,† he said, trying to buy time for the blood to return to his brain. â€Å"How do you know the ceiling is thirty feet tall?† â€Å"From our wedding pictures. I cut you out and used you to measure the whole building. It was just under five Theos tall.† â€Å"You cut up our wedding pictures?† â€Å"Not the good ones. Come on, help me get the tree off the car.† She turned quickly and her jacket fanned out behind her. â€Å"Molly, I wish you wouldn’t go out like that.† â€Å"You mean like this?† She turned, lapels in hand. And there they were again, his pink-nosed friends. â€Å"Let’s get the tree set up and then do it in the graveyard, okay?† She jumped a little for emphasis and Theo nodded, following the recoil. He suspected that he was being manipulated, enslaved by his own sexual weakness, but he couldn’t quite figure out why that was a bad thing. After all, he was among friends. â€Å"Sweetheart, I’m a peace officer, I can’t –  » â€Å"Come on, it will be nasty.† She said nasty like it meant delicious, which is what she meant. â€Å"Molly, after five years together, I’m not sure we’re supposed to be nasty.† But even as he said it, Theo was moving toward the big evergreen, looking for the ropes that secured it to the Honda. Over in the graveyard, the dead, who had been listening all along, began to murmur anxiously about the new Christmas tree and the impending sex show. They’d heard it all, the dead: crying children, wailing widows, confessions, condemnations, questions that they could never answer; Halloween dares, raving drunks-invoking the ghosts or just apologizing for drawing breath; would-be witches, chanting at indifferent spirits, tourists rubbing the old tombstones with paper and charcoal like curious dogs scratching at the grave to get in. Funerals, confirmations, communions, weddings, square dances, heart attacks, junior-high hand jobs, wakes gone awry, vandalism, Handel’s Messiah, a birth, a murder, eighty-three Passion plays, eighty-five Christmas pageants, a dozen brides barking over tombstones like taffeta sea lions as the best man gave it to them dog style, and now and again, couples who needed something dark and smelling of damp earth to give their sex life a jolt: the dead had heard it. â€Å"Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah!† Molly cried from her seat astraddle the town constable, who was squirming on an uncomfortable bed of plastic roses a few feet above a dead schoolteacher. â€Å"They always think they’re the first ones. Ooooo, let’s do it in the graveyard,† said Bess Leander, whose husband had served her foxglove tea with her last breakfast. â€Å"I know, there are three used condoms on my grave from this week alone,† said Arthur Tannbeau, citrus farmer, deceased five years. â€Å"How can you tell?† They heard everything, but their vision was limited. â€Å"The smell.† â€Å"That’s disgusting,† said Esther, the schoolteacher. It’s hard to shock the dead. Esther was feigning disgust. â€Å"What’s all the racket? I was sleeping.† Malcolm Cowley, antique book dealer, myocardial infarction over Dickens. â€Å"Theo Crowe, the constable, and his crazy wife doing it on Esther’s grave,† said Arthur. â€Å"I’ll bet she’s off her meds.† â€Å"Five years they’ve been married and they’re still at this kind of thing?† Since her death, Bess had taken a strong antirelationship stance. â€Å"Postmarital sex is so pedestrian.† Malcolm again, ever bored with provincial, small-town death. â€Å"Some postmortem sex, that’s what I could use,† said the late Marty in the Morning, KGOB radio’s top DJ with a bullet – a pioneer carjack victim back when hair bands ruled the airwaves. â€Å"A rave in the grave, if you get my meaning.† â€Å"Listen to her. I’d like to slip the bone to her,† said Jimmy Antalvo, who’d kissed a pole on his Kawasaki to remain ever nineteen. â€Å"Which one?† Marty cackled. â€Å"The new Christmas tree sounds lovely,† said Esther. â€Å"I do hope they sing ‘Good King Wenceslas’ this year.† â€Å"If they do,† spouted the moldy book dealer, â€Å"you’ll find me justly spinning in my grave.† â€Å"You wish,† said Jimmy Antalvo. â€Å"Hell, I wish.† The dead did not spin in their graves, they did not move – nor could they speak, except to one another, voices without air. What they did was sleep, awakening to listen, to chat a bit, then, eventually, to never wake again. Sometimes it took twenty years, sometimes as long as forty before they took the big sleep, but no one could remember hearing a voice from longer ago than that. Six feet above them, Molly punctuated her last few convulsive climactic bucks with, â€Å"I – AM – SO – GOING – TO – WASH – YOUR – VOLVO – WHEN – WE – GET – HOME! YES! YES! YES!† Then she sighed and fell forward to nuzzle Theo’s chest as she caught her breath. â€Å"I don’t know what that means,† Theo said. â€Å"It means I’m going to wash your car for you.† â€Å"Oh, it’s not a euphemism, like, wash the old Volvo. Wink, wink, nudge, nudge?† â€Å"Nope. It’s your reward.† Now that they were finished, Theo was having a hard time ignoring the plastic flowers that were impressed in his bare backside. â€Å"I thought this was my reward.† He gestured to her bare thighs on either side of him, the divots her knees had made in the dirt, her hair played out across his chest. Molly pushed up and looked down at him. â€Å"No, this was your reward for helping me with the Christmas tree. Washing your car is your reward for this.† â€Å"Oh,† Theo said. â€Å"I love you.† â€Å"Oh, I think I’m going to be sick,† said a newly dead voice from across the woods. â€Å"Who’s the new guy?† asked Marty in the Morning. The radio on Theo’s belt, which was down around his knees, crackled. â€Å"Pine Cove Constable, come in. Theo?† Theo did an awkward sit-up and grabbed the radio. â€Å"Go ahead, Dispatch.† â€Å"Theo, we have a two-oh-seven-A at six-seven-one Worchester Street. The victim is alone and the suspect may still be in the area. I’ve dispatched two units, but they’re twenty minutes out.† â€Å"I can be there in five minutes,† Theo said. â€Å"Suspect is a white male, over six feet, long blond hair, wearing a long black raincoat or overcoat.† â€Å"Roger, Dispatch. I’m on my way.† Theo was trying to pull his pants up with one hand while working the radio with the other. Molly was on her feet already, naked from the waist down, holding her jeans and sneakers rolled up under her left arm. She extended a hand to help Theo up. â€Å"What’s a two-oh-seven?† â€Å"Not sure,† said Theo, letting her lever him to his feet. â€Å"Either an attempted kidnapping or a possum with a handgun.† â€Å"You have plastic flowers stuck to your butt.† â€Å"Probably the former, she didn’t say anything about shots fired.† â€Å"No, leave them. They’re cute.† How to cite The Stupidest Angel Chapter 4, Essay examples

Child observation free essay sample

Oct. 04, 2013 around 12:00pm to 5:00pm the time was at the Caregiver’s house and outside in the park. They have some toys in the dinning room. The main area for the toddler to play is in the dinning room. The kitchen, living room, and bedroom are an open area. The toddler basically runs around the hold house and play until there’s something to do. The toddler has a lot of toys to play with, he has trucks, cars, little bitty puzzle with five to ten pieces, and he has a couple of balls and balloons to play with. The floor is carpeted, so the toddler really don’t play ball as much in the house. The parents keep the house clean enough. There are four children that lives in the house and the two oldest ones were in school. So it was just the caregiver, the toddler, the infant, and me, in the house. The father went to work earlier. My toddler observation is about the toddler and what he does in a day’s time with the caregiver. The toddler is my daughter in-law son. His father is an African American and his mother is the same. It’s very nice to know that the family is getting along just fine. The father was born in Illinois and raised on the north side. The toddler’s mother was also born in Illinois and raised on the west side of Chicago. The toddler is about 2 and ? years old, he has black hair like his parents, nails are normal dark brown eyes, a mouth full of teeth, and his head is normal size. I was there when he was born he weighed 28lbs. and was 27 inches long. His eyes were shut at the time and his nose was round. Basically everything is still the same except his hair grew a little longer, his fingers are thicker, and it’s much easier to see his neck now compared to the time when he was born. After sitting there for a while observing the caregiver and the toddler’s surroundings, I found out that his mother loves all of children and they were well taken care of , even the infant that finally woke and was cooing while waking up. The toddler walked over to the caregiver and asks her, (mommy can we go outside and play today)? And the caregiver says yes as soon as we get ourselves together and put some clothes on then we can go outside. After the caregiver washes the child up, then she calls him and tells him (come here and let me show you how to put your clothes on, so you can learn how to put them on yourself from now on ok)? And the toddler says ok, mommy. The caregiver says to the toddler (lets put your socks on first and then your pair of pants). So she shows the toddler how to put his clothes on and then he turns to the caregiver and says: mommy, did I do this right? And she said (yes; now let’s learn how to put your shirt and shoes on). While the toddler was putting on his shoes and shirt, she continued to show him so he can learn. The caregiver says to the toddler (now that you have learned how to put your clothes on we’ll have to do this for an everyday routine until you get it completely right ok)? And the toddler says ok mommy. So the toddler is standing there singing, (I put my clothes on, I put my clothes on). Then the caregiver joins in with him singing (you put your clothes on, you put your clothes on). Then she says to the toddler that’s how you learn. So the caregiver says to the toddler (do you have everything you need, so we can go outside)? And the toddler says: I have my socks, pants, shirt, and shoes on, do I need my jacket? And the caregiver says: not right now because it’s pretty hot outside. So the caregiver also had to get the infant prepared to go outside too. So as she was changing the infant’s pamper, she starts singing to him. ( Hush little baby don’t say a word, mommy’s going to by you a marking bird). She continued to sing until she was done and then she put him in the stroller and put his things he needed behind the stroller. The caregiver told the toddler to go and grab his ball so they can go play catch outside in the park across the street. So we finally walked down the stairs and across the street. Now we were in the park. The caregiver ask the toddler to throw her the ball and the toddler says (ok mommy I’ll throw you the ball and they started to play. ) While the caregiver and the toddler were playing, there were other children at the park that wanted to play with them. So the caregiver told them to come on and join in and play with us, and the toddler says (mommy are they going to play with us)? And the caregiver says yes they are going to play with us. After they started playing ball and having fun the one of the little boys was hit in the head with the ball, and he started to cry,  and the caregiver asked him what was wrong and he said 🙠 I got hit in the head with the ball)! And the caregiver says to him (come here let me rub your head for you so that it could feel better). Then the caregiver calls all of the children over in fact it was only four of them and she told them that mystical was hit in the head with the ball so we should all pitch in to help mystical feel better, so let’s just all give him a big hug, they all hug mystical to make him feel better and they started to play again. They stayed out there for a couple of ours with the toddler, the infant, and all of the other boys and then she called them over and asked them if they wanted to sing a song and they said yes, let’s sing Old McDonald, and the caregiver said that’s a good song to sing so they all started to sing the song while she was trying to teach the toddler how to sing it too. After singing the song for a while everyone was kind of tired so they left to go home. Then the caregiver and the toddler and the infant also went home. Now out of all of this time while the infant was outside he was sleep and didn’t give the caregiver any problems. So the toddler says to the caregiver, mommy I had me some fun and the caregiver said good I’m glad you had fun. My recommendation for the caregiver is that she should allow this to be a routine for her and the toddler to do so that he can learn each day how to put his clothes on and how to interact with other children, this is a real big step for the toddler and the caregiver and I also enjoyed observing them. Child observation free essay sample All the children at Gerber Preschool are between the ages of 3 and 4 years old and mainly consist of lower to lower middle class Hispanic and Caucasian families. Mya is a small statured 3 year old Hispanic Caucasian female, with light olive-toned skin, long brown hair, and large brown eyes. Toby is an average statured 4 year old Caucasian male, fair-skinned, blue-eyed, short brown hair. Toby and Mya both seem to be in good physical heath. Jesus is a slightly above average statured 4 year old Hispanic male, with dark brown skin, short spikey black hair and brown eyes. Spanish is Jesus primary language at home but is encouraged to speak English at school. Mya, Toby, and Jesus all appear to be right handed and in good physical heath. Description of Setting: The observation session began on Tuesday May 7, 2013, at approximately 10:00 AM in Gerber, California; the preschool has 2 adults and 8-10 kids. All the children were in line waiting to exit out the back door to the playground. Santo attempts to join others but does not adjust his behavior in response to others; he is not able to take turns in play. Santo likes to play rough and when he is in trouble; he always blames the other kids and refuses to accept any responsibility. I observed a level of difficulty when he was trying to accomplish some physical tasks or activities. Language, listening and speaking shows some difficulty to where he should be according to his age. Santo has a hard time following directions and does not listen attentively. Santo penmanship is good holds the pencil and crayons the right way. Writes his full name. During free play/group activity, Santo choose to play with trains with a group of three other kids. They choose to play with the trains on the floor or build the tracks first before. I observed Santo waiting to play with the trains until the other children on his group build the tracks. I asked him if he could build his own tracks, he replied â€Å"yes† but when he tried he was not able to do it, he seemed to get a little frustrated for a little bit but then he asked the other children if he could join them and use the same tracks they had built, the other kids agreed and asked him to wait for his turn to put his trains on the track, Santo did not wait and knocked the other kids trains out of the track in order to place his; when the teacher asked him to wait for his turn he replied â€Å" M and A did not allowed me to play with them†, his teacher asked him if he will be happy or said if M and A did the same thing to him he replied â€Å"yes† but insisted on blaming the other children for not allowing him to play right away and refused to wait for his turn. After couple of minutes, he moved to play with blocks. Santo was able to build a small tower he came up to me and said, â€Å"You see the big tower I build†, I replied, â€Å"Thatâ₠¬â„¢s great I’m proud of you†; he seemed to be very proud. When D came to play along with Santo he was very happy and asked D â€Å"you want to play with me†, D replied â€Å"yes† but Santo did not continue building anything else, instead he decided to knocked the tower down and asked â€Å"D dook at this, you like it, is fun right†, D thought this was funny so Santo built the tower again and knocked it down, after the second time he was stopped by one of the teachers so he wouldn’t hurt the other kids. I observed representation and symbolic thinking during indoor and outdoor play, most of the time about the movie â€Å"cars†. Before going outdoor, Santo had a hard time putting his shoes the right way he tried a little longer than the other kids did. During outdoor play, I observed him playing with bicycles and on the playground on the slide and other climbing areas. Overall coordination, he had a hard time climbing running and jumping. He falls more often that the other children his age. Santo has a hard time pedaling the bicycle with enough coordination. He loves to run, some times when more then three kids were running in circles, he only seems to run with one other child, he ignores the rest of them, if the other kids got in his way he will just push them out. I asked him what his favorite sport is, he did not replied, I asked him if he likes to play any ball game, he replied, â€Å"I play soccer, I go play soccer last Sunday† . I had a hard time understanding what Santo wanted to say most of the time. If he said one word or a 2-word sentence like â€Å"yes please† it was clear but when his teacher or I asked him questions where the answer was expected to be to be longer, it was hard to understand him. I asked Santo if he likes to color with crayons or markers and he replied â€Å"I like to play with cars†, I asked him what your favorite color is and he replied, â€Å"I like cars, like this† and he pointed to his t-shirt he was wearing from the movie â€Å"Cars†. He holds he pencil and crayons the right way, he wrote his name and last name correctly. When the teacher gave the group directions to do a project, he was the only one who did not understand it even after the teacher explained it twice. The teacher explained to him in a different way but he still had a hard time completing the project. During lunchtime, Santo had a hard time opening his yogurt and peeling a banana Santo likes to go to the reading area but only if another child goes with him, if he’s there by himself he doesn’t choose any books to read but the minute some one else comes, he chooses a book and is always the book the other child has. During this observation, I have tried to be as objective as I could, during more than one occasion, I was tempted to intervene and control a situation but I was able to just observe and remain objective during the whole time. I believe Santo is in the Preoperational Stage with an Egocentrism limitation. Piaget defined his second stage by what it lacks: operations for Piaget, the term operations have a very particular meaning. Operations are mental actions that follow systematic, logical rules. When children are preoperational, they do not think in a logical way. According to Piaget, the major accomplishment of the preoperational stage is the ability to represent actions mentally rather than physically. Piaget also placed considerable emphasis on the limitations of children is thought at this age. Preoperational children may base their conclusions on a set of unrelated facts, or they may assume that things that just happen to occur at about the same time cause each other. For example, an angry child might accuse an innocent bystander of doing him harm by reasoning, â€Å"You were there when I fell, so it’s your fault that I hurt myself. † Magical explanations may be the best that children can do to understand the world, but this may lead to tricky situations when dealing with children who are convinced of the reality of their thoughts. Egocentrism. Piaget believed that young children find it difficult to see the world from another person’s point of view, especially if that point of view differs from their own. Piaget called this egocentrism (ego means â€Å"I† or â€Å"self†; therefore the child’s world centers around his own point of view). It really means that the child’s mind is insufficiently developed to allow her to understand that someone else’s perspective could be different from her own. The results may be a ‘Selfish† child who grabs toys from others, but the reason is that the child can not yet understand that someone else wants the same toy just as much as he does. Laura E. Levine Joyce Munsch. Child Development. An Active Learning Approach 2011. Pages 237, 238, 239. I believe he is delayed on his receptive and expressive language. The capabilities of these two regions do not develop at the same time. Infants understand words before they can say them. Another way we describe this is to say comprehension of language precedes production of language. Celce-Murcia Olshtain, 2001). Laura E. Levine Joyce Munsch. Child Development. An Active Learning Approach 2011. Page 304. By age 3, most children are putting together multiword sentences. Also, whereas younger children use only the basic forms of words, such as I go store, preschoolers begin to add morphemes. We define morpheme as the smallest unit that has meaning in a language. As the preschooler learns how to use morphemes more appropriately, she no longer says â€Å"I walk home† but rather â€Å"I walked home† when she means past tense. Laura Levine Joyce Munsch. Child Development. An active Learning Approach 2011. Page 312. Language Development of Preschoolers I also believe Santo is on the egocentric speech. Egocentric Speech, A limitation of youg children’s communication due to their inability to take the perspective of other people into account. For Piaget, the explanation for egocentric speech is that children are not born with social beings ; they must learn to be social and to understand other people’s point of view. When they do, their language becomes socialized, and communication is much more effective. Laura Levine Joyce Munsch. Child Development. An active Learning Approach 2011. Page 314 I also believe some of Santo’s behavior and development could be in some part of cultural based beliefs. I know for a fact that the culture from where Santo comes from, is used to help children to eat (they still spoon feed them until an older age than what the American culture is used to, they also help them get dress, independency is not encourage the way parents to in the American culture. American culture is much more concerned with the autonomous individual. Masuda and Nisbett (2001) demonstrated how cultural differences can affect our perceptions. Recent research has even shown cultural differences in brain function based on whether the individual was told to pay attention to context or not. The frontal regions of the brain, associated with control of attention, were more active when Americans were told to focus on context and East Asians were told not to focus on context (Hedden, Ketay,Aron,Markus, Gabrieli, 2008) Laura Levine Joyce Munsch. Child Development. An active Learning Approach 2011. Page 143