Your Last Lecture Research Paper
millener 1
Granny Honeycake
delmetria millener
English IV
November 7, 2014
delmetria millener
English IV
November 7, 2014
My Last Lecture: What is the Condition of Man, And How Does That Condition Impact Values?
Shapes & Colors
Thinking allows people to make sense of, interpret, represent or model the world they experience, and to make predictions about that world. The arrangement of those ideas that result from thinking, the act of producing those thoughts or the process of producing thoughts all take part in shaping who we are. Considering those thoughts, many of us look back on our lives and, although we may have had the best intentions or plans, things did not work out the way we wanted them to for one reason or another.
When I look back over my life and at how my thoughts of what a perfect world should be, I am disillusioned by what I see: prejudices, hate, bigotries—a cesspool of ill will and misguided intentions toward other human beings. Although I cannot change all the ills in the world in this lifetime, I can choose to a participant instead of an observer. Marry to that idea the notion that the ideologies that were instilled within me gave me options, choices to do right or to do wrong, no matter how tough the struggle. And suddenly, I find that these notions took me right back to my roots.
My mother is a god. Through miles of conversations, books, magazines, vacations and visits to libraries, my mom exposed me to a melting pot world. My parents—all of them—were the most accepting, always-for-the-underdog-some-kind-of-special people. They still are. They exposed me to gay friends, foreign friends, poor friends, wealthy friends and family-oriented friends, single-parent friends, creative, multitalented friends, benevolent friends and friends from an arsenal of professional backgrounds.
My parents forged a life that had little room for bigotry. Had it squeezed in, I would have missed out on all the intoxicatingly beautiful people I have met along the way. Like Randy Pausch in The Last Lecture, “I won the parent lottery” (21).
My mom, an English-teacher-turned-lifelong-librarian and my dad, the old-fashioned-athlete-turned-businessman, and my “real” dad the consummate musician and his couple of wonderful wives, all instilled in me that being “some kind of way” toward anyone who looked, thought or lived differently than me would not be tolerated. I thank them for that.
Rainbow Colored Reflections
For the majority of my life, I have been entangled with the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender community for as long as I can remember. So it is no surprise then, that as a minority myself, I am an advocate for their protection. As a young artist, living between California and Louisiana, I was exposed to many gay men and women in my life who ultimately became the very foundation of my life’s work.
For example, according to the privately-owned Hyperallergic Media magazine, there are “65% male and 35% female artists in the Los Angeles area” alone who fall within the LGBT category (16). To that end, when I danced at the San Francisco Conservatory of ballet, the fondest memories I have are of my neighbor, Leslie, a nightclub singer who used to help me with my homework, culinary and pointe skills when my parents were not home.
Les was a bright light in my life because she taught me how to be classy, how to put on makeup and how to be “fly” with boys who tried to get out of line. “Get your filthy paws off my silky draws” she would tell me to say if a “fresh” boy tried to “feel” on me (1984). We shared many laughs and sometimes even tears. Always performing in beautiful, flowing gowns, Leigh designed my debutante dress that I would wear two years later at 16-years old, when I became a debutante.
I adored Les because she treated me with respect, not like I was a stupid kid like most other adults did. And sometimes, she would even sneak me back stage at some of her shows when she performed. I used some of her grace and techniques in my performances when I danced. At the end of summer, Les grew very ill. I was worried about her and did not want to leave until I knew she was okay.
It was not until we were about to leave for the airport for me to come home did my dad explain to me that I would probably never see Leigh again. Suddenly, my dad was an alien. I looked at my dad with confusion and a slight hint of disgust. I was tired of everything and everyone I loved being taken from me.
Gently, my dad explained that Les had some “gay disease.” I shrugged to my dad that I did not understand why she would have a gay disease if she were not gay. What he told me would change me for the rest of my life. As we boarded the plane, haphazardly, my father said, “Sugar Doll (my family’s term of endearment for me), Leslie is a man” (1984).
Back then, I had no clue what that even meant. And being the kind of child I was, I accepted it and did not question it. The next summer, Les was dead.
Leslie had died of Acquired Immunodeficiency Syndrome, or AIDS, a disease that kills “more than 15,000 people…each year in the United States” (Center for Disease Control). When I went back to California six months later, nothing again was ever the same.
Things Change But Stay the Same
Time moved. It always does. It was not going to stop just because I lost a great “big sister.” Les would have loved my friends had she been around to meet them. As a professional ballet dancer, I met and befriended some of the most talented gay men and women on the planet. We had some really fun times splashing the world with our color!
At my grandfather’s funeral in 1987, I learned a lot about my family. I discovered that not only did my grandfather have 12 children with my mother’s mother, he had fathered seven other children. “Poppa was a rolling stone,” right? (The Temptations). It was that day that I learned that “Ms. Lola B” (whom I always thought was a family friend) was my grandfather’s proverbial “baby mama.” They shared six children, five of which—male and female—are gay. And his other “side chick” had a lesbian daughter with him. Oh yeah, and of those 12 with Big Mama, two are lesbians.
When I made the decision to attend college, I decided to go to Texas Woman’s University to study women’s history. I wanted to study why so many people in my family are gay. Although my mom was excited that I had finally decided on a college, she was livid about my choice. I appealed to her that Texas Woman’s University “offers a comprehensive catalog of academic studies, including baccalaureate, masters and doctoral degrees. Now in its tenth decade, the University has grown from a small college to a major university. TWU is the largest university primarily for women in the United States, with the main campus in Denton and health science centers in Dallas and Houston” (Texas Woman’s University).
She was not convinced. Not because the school was mostly for women, but as a dual major But, it was too late. I had already enrolled myself. And it was at TWU that I learned the most about people within the LGBT community.
Later, when I became a writer, I started out in sports. I wrote for my local KRLD news radio station where I attended dozens of baseball, basketball, football and hockey games, and golf, tennis and chess matches. In addition to the illustrious stories, I was amazed at the amount of LGBT athletes just between Texas and Oklahoma alone!
More coming!
Thinking allows people to make sense of, interpret, represent or model the world they experience, and to make predictions about that world. The arrangement of those ideas that result from thinking, the act of producing those thoughts or the process of producing thoughts all take part in shaping who we are. Considering those thoughts, many of us look back on our lives and, although we may have had the best intentions or plans, things did not work out the way we wanted them to for one reason or another.
When I look back over my life and at how my thoughts of what a perfect world should be, I am disillusioned by what I see: prejudices, hate, bigotries—a cesspool of ill will and misguided intentions toward other human beings. Although I cannot change all the ills in the world in this lifetime, I can choose to a participant instead of an observer. Marry to that idea the notion that the ideologies that were instilled within me gave me options, choices to do right or to do wrong, no matter how tough the struggle. And suddenly, I find that these notions took me right back to my roots.
My mother is a god. Through miles of conversations, books, magazines, vacations and visits to libraries, my mom exposed me to a melting pot world. My parents—all of them—were the most accepting, always-for-the-underdog-some-kind-of-special people. They still are. They exposed me to gay friends, foreign friends, poor friends, wealthy friends and family-oriented friends, single-parent friends, creative, multitalented friends, benevolent friends and friends from an arsenal of professional backgrounds.
My parents forged a life that had little room for bigotry. Had it squeezed in, I would have missed out on all the intoxicatingly beautiful people I have met along the way. Like Randy Pausch in The Last Lecture, “I won the parent lottery” (21).
My mom, an English-teacher-turned-lifelong-librarian and my dad, the old-fashioned-athlete-turned-businessman, and my “real” dad the consummate musician and his couple of wonderful wives, all instilled in me that being “some kind of way” toward anyone who looked, thought or lived differently than me would not be tolerated. I thank them for that.
Rainbow Colored Reflections
For the majority of my life, I have been entangled with the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender community for as long as I can remember. So it is no surprise then, that as a minority myself, I am an advocate for their protection. As a young artist, living between California and Louisiana, I was exposed to many gay men and women in my life who ultimately became the very foundation of my life’s work.
For example, according to the privately-owned Hyperallergic Media magazine, there are “65% male and 35% female artists in the Los Angeles area” alone who fall within the LGBT category (16). To that end, when I danced at the San Francisco Conservatory of ballet, the fondest memories I have are of my neighbor, Leslie, a nightclub singer who used to help me with my homework, culinary and pointe skills when my parents were not home.
Les was a bright light in my life because she taught me how to be classy, how to put on makeup and how to be “fly” with boys who tried to get out of line. “Get your filthy paws off my silky draws” she would tell me to say if a “fresh” boy tried to “feel” on me (1984). We shared many laughs and sometimes even tears. Always performing in beautiful, flowing gowns, Leigh designed my debutante dress that I would wear two years later at 16-years old, when I became a debutante.
I adored Les because she treated me with respect, not like I was a stupid kid like most other adults did. And sometimes, she would even sneak me back stage at some of her shows when she performed. I used some of her grace and techniques in my performances when I danced. At the end of summer, Les grew very ill. I was worried about her and did not want to leave until I knew she was okay.
It was not until we were about to leave for the airport for me to come home did my dad explain to me that I would probably never see Leigh again. Suddenly, my dad was an alien. I looked at my dad with confusion and a slight hint of disgust. I was tired of everything and everyone I loved being taken from me.
Gently, my dad explained that Les had some “gay disease.” I shrugged to my dad that I did not understand why she would have a gay disease if she were not gay. What he told me would change me for the rest of my life. As we boarded the plane, haphazardly, my father said, “Sugar Doll (my family’s term of endearment for me), Leslie is a man” (1984).
Back then, I had no clue what that even meant. And being the kind of child I was, I accepted it and did not question it. The next summer, Les was dead.
Leslie had died of Acquired Immunodeficiency Syndrome, or AIDS, a disease that kills “more than 15,000 people…each year in the United States” (Center for Disease Control). When I went back to California six months later, nothing again was ever the same.
Things Change But Stay the Same
Time moved. It always does. It was not going to stop just because I lost a great “big sister.” Les would have loved my friends had she been around to meet them. As a professional ballet dancer, I met and befriended some of the most talented gay men and women on the planet. We had some really fun times splashing the world with our color!
At my grandfather’s funeral in 1987, I learned a lot about my family. I discovered that not only did my grandfather have 12 children with my mother’s mother, he had fathered seven other children. “Poppa was a rolling stone,” right? (The Temptations). It was that day that I learned that “Ms. Lola B” (whom I always thought was a family friend) was my grandfather’s proverbial “baby mama.” They shared six children, five of which—male and female—are gay. And his other “side chick” had a lesbian daughter with him. Oh yeah, and of those 12 with Big Mama, two are lesbians.
When I made the decision to attend college, I decided to go to Texas Woman’s University to study women’s history. I wanted to study why so many people in my family are gay. Although my mom was excited that I had finally decided on a college, she was livid about my choice. I appealed to her that Texas Woman’s University “offers a comprehensive catalog of academic studies, including baccalaureate, masters and doctoral degrees. Now in its tenth decade, the University has grown from a small college to a major university. TWU is the largest university primarily for women in the United States, with the main campus in Denton and health science centers in Dallas and Houston” (Texas Woman’s University).
She was not convinced. Not because the school was mostly for women, but as a dual major But, it was too late. I had already enrolled myself. And it was at TWU that I learned the most about people within the LGBT community.
Later, when I became a writer, I started out in sports. I wrote for my local KRLD news radio station where I attended dozens of baseball, basketball, football and hockey games, and golf, tennis and chess matches. In addition to the illustrious stories, I was amazed at the amount of LGBT athletes just between Texas and Oklahoma alone!
More coming!
Due Wednesday, October 1, 2014
3x3 Pre-writing Plans and Essay
1. Using the expository writing prompts below, set up a COMPLETE 3x3 pre-writing plan for each.
2. Read the article entitled, “High School Graduation: Four Students Discuss Obstacles to Success.” (The link is below.) Then, Write an essay analyzing whether the choices you’re making today are setting you up for your future. Use text evidence to support your thesis.
ARTICLE: High School Graduation: Four Students Discuss Obstacles to Success
CAUTION: This work will be graded as a test grade and must be completed with Brainstorm | Thesis Statement | Topic Sentences in order to get a passing grade!
LATE WORK WILL NOT BE ACCEPTED.
- Write an essay that addresses ways to decrease violence in schools.
- Write an essay that supports the importance of recycling.
- Write an essay that analyzes using technology in the classroom.
- Write an essay analyzing backup career plans for athletes.
2. Read the article entitled, “High School Graduation: Four Students Discuss Obstacles to Success.” (The link is below.) Then, Write an essay analyzing whether the choices you’re making today are setting you up for your future. Use text evidence to support your thesis.
ARTICLE: High School Graduation: Four Students Discuss Obstacles to Success
CAUTION: This work will be graded as a test grade and must be completed with Brainstorm | Thesis Statement | Topic Sentences in order to get a passing grade!
LATE WORK WILL NOT BE ACCEPTED.