Memo

September 15th, 2009

Dear Ms. (Almost Dr.) Moody,
Based on the feedback that I received from Jade, I have concluded that I need to utilize more detail in the middle-conclusion of my memoir. She suggested that I describe my backyard, garage, and size of the fire more vividly. This told me that she had some trouble understanding the scenery and what was going on in the story. To Fix this, I plan on describing in detail, the surroundings of my garage, including what types of things were in there and what it looked like from my view (e.g. color, size, etc.). I also plan to describe the scenery in my back yard. Everything was looked at from a different perspective when I was that age and that size and I want to be able to express how it appeared through my youthful eyes to the reader. Jade also recommended that I describe more thoroughly the size and rapidity of the flame as it grew into a "raging fire", and I plan on doing so.
And finally, she noticed something that I had done accidentally; I used exposition to describe that I was a sort of mischievous child. She used that to guess how I was going to respond to finding the box of matches, that I was going to play with them and start a fire. I hope to successfully expand on this exposition to craft elements of foreshadowing into my memoir. Once I complete these tasks, my memoir will encompass strong visuals that will help the reader visualize my anecdote's significance.
-Austin Thomas

Memoir Final Draft

Core Assignment 1 – The Memoir

Drafting Process

It was the fall of 1999. The Y2K scares of the New Millennium were just around the corner. Bill Clinton was President, and Lance Armstrong had just earned his first Tour de France victory. Yet, the most the small town of Bradenton, Florida had to worry about was a head-lice outbreak at my local elementary school. I was in third grade. An eight-year-old full of questions and adventure, I was sitting cross-legged in Ms. Julie’s class, waiting for the clock to hit 3:00 p.m. so I could go home and play. My grandma was coming into town that day and I was very excited to see her, for she only visited from North Carolina two or three times a year. Grandma was loaded, and gave us a $100.00 check for our birthday and Christmas, which basically were the only times we saw her; but, she was also fun. She was an over-weight woman who was (and still is) full of laughter. I remember we would always tell her that she wasn’t fat but that she was pleasantly plump, and she would always laugh hysterically. She has the type of laugh that makes you laugh when you hear it, which ignites a vicious cycle of tears and cringed faces. But I couldn’t enjoy any of this, for I was stuck listening to Ms. Julie.

The principal of our school was standing beside Ms. Julie as they preached the seriousness of this head-lice outbreak to my third grade class. There were only ten minutes left of school - I knew this because I was counting down. I could already see my mom sitting outside the window in her car, waiting to pick me up, but I was stuck behind closed doors learning about lice that I didn’t even have.

The principal’s name was Janice Mattina, a playful, yet strict woman in her mid-forties who was proud to have embedded the “Montessori Method” into her school, The Center for Education. This meant that every child could work at his/her own pace and either fall behind or excel. I hated my “Montessori school”. It was a school that ranged from a toddler program up through eighth grade, and still consisted of only two hundred or so students. I found out at a very young age, that the school didn’t make very much money off the tuition costs from the minimal student population. Accordingly, Janice could not afford to hire very many teachers, and the teachers that the school had were forced to teach multiple subjects. This non-specialized system of teaching resulted in me becoming mediocre in every field of study; and I wasn't even one of the students that "fell behind". I hated the majority of my teachers due to frustration in my subjects, and asking questions that couldn’t be answered. Being resentful, I would even refuse to come in from recess; kicking, punching, and screaming at whoever would make any disciplinary attempt. I became a sort of rebel, fighting the power of my government and sticking it to "the man". Janice was "the man" and easily fell into one of these categories, especially since she used the tuition money to buy her multiple Mercedes, rather than better our school. And right now she was standing before me telling us how we need to live our lives, how to wash our hair, and how to safely play with our friends without becoming contaminated.

She said, “I’m sending home with you a very fine comb that is designed to remove lice from your hair, along with a flyer that tells your parents all about our little talk that we had today.” Ms. Julie quickly added, “This is a very serious matter and you guys need to be responsible. Make sure that you give these to your mom and dad.” They handed the papers and combs out to us and I was finally free to go. I rushed out of the glass doors and into the parking lot to my mom’s car. I quickly jumped in, excited to finally be out of school, and we headed home. My mom and I went through the usual, “How was your day at school?” and “Boring as usual! I hate my school.” speech until we finally got home.

My grandma’s car was in the driveway and she was already inside having a drink with my dad. Before the car was all the way in the garage, I unlocked my door, opened it and jumped out. I always rode on the right hand side of the car in the back seat for a reason, so I could do just this. I was right-handed and could quickly jump out of my mom’s car before she had time to protest my actions. I was a very smart kid. I pulled open the back door of my house, left it open, and ran for grandma. I jumped into her arms with all my might and gave her a “bear-hug”, squeezing her as tightly as I could. She almost fell over. She repeated the same lecture that I had just received from my mom about school, asking how it was and how I needed to be respectful to my teachers because they were only trying to help me. “I pay a lot of money for you kids to go to that school, and you need to pay attention, okay?”, she exclaimed. At this point, I was in autopilot and instinctively responded, “Yes grandma, I will.” She noted, “All right, now there’s a good boy. I love you so much honey, now run off and play while me and your dad have a drink.” Excited again, I responded, “Okay grandma, I love you too.” and I ran outside to play. I was back in the garage again, and my mom was just now coming in through the back door. As I ran by her, I unenthusiastically commented, “Oh yeah, here’s some lice thing Janice gave us at school. She told me to give it to you.” I moved on to find something to do.

I was standing alone in the garage moving in circles, looking for something to play with. For some reason, none of my usual toys and sports paraphernalia were good enough today. I began to move towards the other side of the garage where my dad kept his tools. I walked along the counter, which was as tall as I was, until I came upon the grill, where I found a book of matches. I leaned forward onto my "tippie-toes" and was barely able to grasp them with the very tips of my fingers. I stood flat and held them in my hand, full of curiosity. My whole life, I had learned through trial and error, and I decided to play with the matches, not thinking twice about it. I walked along the worn grassy path to my back yard very slowly, studying the contents of this new toy. It was a white box and on the outside it read “Congratulations Bruce and Cheri”, as if it were from a wedding. I assumed they were my parents' friends and that it was very old, considering the faded color and beaten shape that it was in. I continued to wander along staring at what lay in my hands before me until I was hidden away behind my father's barn. Florida was in the middle of a very long drought and it didn’t take me long to find a nice, dry, brown patch of grass. I opened the book and pulled out one of the remaining ten matches that were left and struck it against the grain so that it lit. I had seen people light a match before and knew how it was done. Crouching down on my knees, I threw the match into the dry patch of grass and within seconds, I soon learned that I was a pyromaniac. One after another, I struck a match and threw it into the grass until there were no matches left. It started as a small, weak flare, but once the wind caught the bright red and flames, the fire began to quickly expand. Before I knew it, I had successfully created a raging fire, of which I was very proud. Knowing that I needed a quick getaway, I sprinted back into the house and towards my room. Before I could make it there, my grandma called, “Austin, will you come here please?” I knew I was in trouble and slowly walked into the living room where she was sitting in a chair waiting for me. She pulled out the very fine comb and paper that I had given my mom and said, “I want to check your head for lice.” Relieved, I walked over and sat on her knee as she began to run her fingers and the comb through my hair.

Within a few seconds, she put each of her hands on my shoulders and turned me towards her. She looked at me and very seriously asked, “Austin, why does your hair smell like smoke?”

Invention Process

Invention Process

Part One)

•1991 Birth

•1992 Hurricane Andrew

•1993 Bill Clinton is elected President of the United States

•1994 Death of former President Richard Nixon

•1995 O.J. Simpson is found not guilty of double murder

•1996 Bill Clinton wins his second term for presidency

•1997 Death of Princess Diana of Wales

•1998 New York Yankees Win the World Series

•1999 Lance Armstrong wins his first Tour De France

•2000 Y2K Concerns

•2001 Attacks on the World Trade Center

•2002 The Winter Olympics are held in Salt Lake City, Utah

•2003 The Tampa Bay Buccaneers win Super Bowl XXXVII

•2004 Death of Christopher Reeve

•2005 Hurricane Katrina

•2006 The Playstation 3 and Nintendo Wii are released

•2007 Virginia Tech Massacre

•2008 Barack Obama is elected President of the United States

•2009 Present

Sources:

http://www.historycentral.com/dates/

http://www.worldeventsguide.com/

http://www.cnn.com/

Part Two)

1. Death of Close Friend Joshua Timothy Persichilli: July 16^th, 2006

2. When I won my first motocross race: 2004

3. When I set my back yard on fire: 1998

Part Three)

1. This personal memoir would focus on the death of my close friend Josh Persichilli. He died 3 days after his 14^th birthday in a motocross race in Waldo, FL. His accident occurred during the “Florida Motocross Series”, which was my first 125cc C class championship series; I was 7^th place in the points standings. It happened the first lap of the race and I was right behind him when he crashed. This occurred during the first of a two-race format; the race was immediately halted once the severity of the crash became clear, but was later restarted. I forfeited the restarted first race as well as the second race.

2. This memory would be about my very first motocross race ever. I heard about racing from one of my father’s friends whose son raced in Dade City, FL and decided that it was something I was interested in. I was a young daredevil who wanted to go high and fast, and convinced my dad to take me there to ride the motocross school in the morning and attend the races that night. During the morning school I was taught the basics of body positioning and skills and then the rain began to pour. It was my first race as well as my first mud race. I was the only rider to make it across the finish line.

3. When I was in elementary school, there was a lice outbreak at my school and the administrators encouraged parents to routinely check their children’s head for lice. After school one day, I went home and jumped into the arms of my grandma, who was visiting from North Carolina. Once my grandma and my parents started into a conversation, I ventured off into the garage. I came upon a packet of matches by my father’s grill and soon found that I was a pyromaniac. I made my way towards my back yard where I came upon a dry patch of grass and decided to test my fire-making abilities. The entire back yard was soon on fire. I ran back inside my house acting as if nothing had happened. My grandma told me to come to her immediately; she wanted to check my hair for lice. She quickly commented that my head smelled of smoke and I was soon in trouble.

Part Four)

1. The death of a close friend impacted my life in an enormous way. It was the first of three that I was forced to endure. It taught me to cherish the one’s that I love; it taught me to live for the moment and to never think twice about doing something; it taught me to reach out for every opportunity and to try my best experience what others do not get the chance to; it taught me the value of family; it taught me the value of friends; it taught me the importance of life. When I sit on the starting line for a race, I no longer pray for victory, but for safety. I turn to my opponents next to me and wish them good luck. I try my hardest in school so that I may have a bright future, one that Josh never had the chance to experience. His life was taken from him, and if mine may be taken from me, I would like to be able to think that I “went out swinging”.

2. My very first race taught me the value of hard work, guts, and determination. I learned that day that if you work hard and listen, absorbing as much information as you can, then you have a greater chance of success. That day I paid attention to every word in the morning motocross school, and held onto what I had learned until later that night when I was able to regurgitate it. It was something I was passionate about it, which I learned is crucial when attempting to retain information. I learned that there is so much more to a learning process than just memorization, and that you have to care about what you are hearing in order to learn it. I realized what I love doing and what I have to do in order to do it well. Most importantly, however, I learned that this race reflected a larger picture. The lessons that I learned that day were not only applicable in motocross, but could be utilized in life. Utilizing all of my resources and retaining all of my given information in my personal race for the checkered flag. This is also known as the pursuit of happiness. This is also known as life.

3. This childish anecdote serves as a simple memory that other’s may easily relate to. This reflects the childish ways that punishment forces away through maturity. This taught me the simplest of all life’s lessons, the workings of karma. If you do bad things, bad things will happen to you; and if you do good things, good things will come your way. This led me to understand the principles of religion and how I needed to live my life. This lesson gave me desire for a good karma, which could only come from living a healthy, courteous, and hard-working lifestyle. To this very day I work and live on the principles of karma, and my grandmother and parents are finally proud of their once trouble-starting child.