Writing Feedback / Essay: "There's no place like home." [3]

Can you help me look through this essay and give me some feedback? Thank you!

"There's no place like home." If you had to leave your country for good, what or whom would you miss the most and why?

There is no place like home. If I had to leave my country forever, my heart would be aching for the Sword Lake, or Hoan Kiem Lake in Vietnamese, one of the most scenic attraction of my hometown, Hanoi.

My house is just three streets away from Sword Lake. Ever since I was four years old, my grandma has been taking me on walks to the lake on a daily basis, such that now this has become an essential practice of my life. Whenever I walk along the street paved with red bricks around the lake, the story that my grandma told me years ago would resound in my mind. Thousands of years ago, the legend says that an emperor returned a magic sword which had brought him victory in his revolt against the enemy to the Golden Turtle God in the lake. From then onwards, the lake was named as 'The Lake of the Returned Sword' or most commonly known as 'Sword Lake'. To commemorate the help of the Golden Turtle God, a Tortoise Tower was built, standing on a small island in the centre of the lake. Sword Lake is considered the gem in the centre of my city. As the pride of all Hanoi people, the lake reminds us of our ancestors and our tradition of commemorating the achievements of our forefathers. It seems customary for most of Hanoi people to visit the lake once every week, and it would undoubtedly be a pity if I can never walk around the lake anymore.

Sword Lake prides itself as the spotlight of the city. There are no celebrations that do not take place around Sword Lake. When any celebrations or festivals are around the corner, concerts will be held in this area. Catchy songs and colourful slogans will capture the attention of any people walking by, and before long, traffic will come to a halt as most people will stop wherever they are and start to sing along with the crowd. However, Sword Lake is most crowded on New Year's Eve. There will be a fifteen-minute fireworks show at the lake, so many young people would pour out in the streets to come close to the lake and enjoy this time with their friends. The street will become a frozen river of people as they stand still and count down till the fireworks start. I remember watching fireworks at Sword Lake when I was in Primary School with my parents. I was so small that I could hardly see behind the towering adults; hence my father held me on his shoulders lovingly. Together, hand in hand, my parents and I watched the fireworks blooming into glorious flowers in the velvet sky before falling down to the lake in a rain of coloured crystals. A firework on the Sword Lake is the most breathtaking scene I have ever watched in my life, and I would try to replay it over and over again in my mind so that I will never forget it should I have to leave Hanoi forever.

Despite lying in the busiest area of the city, Sword Lake is also well-known for its peaceful beauty. All the willow trees along the shore would lean their trunk towards the lake, as if to observe their graceful beauty through the crystal clear water of the lake. The tranquillity of Sword Lake is irresistible; I love sitting on the shore of the lake to reflect upon my new experiences, as the cool wind brushes through my hair and relieve my stress after a hectic school day. Actually, there are many people who will sit on the marble benches around the lake like me, all of them deep in their thoughts. In the centre of this fast-paced, busy city, Sword Lake is always refreshing, giving us a place to escape, a personal place to have a peaceful moment for ourselves without the distraction of the chaotic world around. I doubt that there is any other place in this world like Sword Lake for me.

Sword Lake has always been a pride of Hanoi people, for its glorious history, its beauty as well as its tranquillity. Should I ever have to leave my city for good, Sword Lake will be the number one place that will always be remembered in my mind.

Writing Feedback / An unexpected act of kindness [4]

Hi, can you look through this essay for me? What bugs me the most is whether I strayed away from the question too much, and if the act of kindness came too late in the story. Can you give me some feedback? Thank you so much!

An unexpected act of kindness

Laura had been my nemesis since primary school. I had thought that having to spend five days, one hundred and twenty hours with her incessant sarcasm in this Youth Camp would be unequivocally revolting, but I had never known that it could get worse. I was assigned into her group, and suffered tremendously. Her behaviour was intolerable, as if she had been the leader, when she had absolutely no idea what was going on. There came the worst: I was to be her trekking partner in the hike the next day. I gasped in disbelief as I stared into the name list. It was as if fate was testing my level of tolerance of endurance by putting the two of us together.

We were required to hike four kilometres into the jungle and be back by seven o'clock. Reluctantly I dragged my feet as I crawled my way towards Laura, who was ready on the mark. We stared at each other deep into one another's eyes, both aware of our deep-seated animosity; and with the whistle, we began our hike.

We were advised to stick to the main road and followed the traces of the illuminating lights that the watch leaders had set up along the way to prevent us getting lost. Dusk was already gathering, the sun a dull glow on the overcast sky. 'You can do it!' I kept reciting my mantra to keep myself calm. I had always been terrified of the darkness, and Laura knew it. 'You wouldn't get lost, silly girl!' she sneered. Just like that and I could feel my blood burning with rage. 'Who says I would get lost?' I snapped back, and turned into another small road along the way. I needed to prove her wrong.

After I took my turn, Laura was following me; her frequent sneers would cause my fist to tighten. I would prove her that I was brave enough to go on my own and find out the way. However, my choice soon proved to be a major mistake. On the minor road, I was enveloped in darkness. No trace of the bright orange light was in my sight, so I tried to walk gingerly along the rocky trail, step by step, my arms reached out for any obstacle along the way. My mantra trembled on my lips as I made my way through the darkness. Step by step, I told myself; but in an impatient moment, I took a stride, and then I tripped.

I tried to stand up, but my right knee hurt so much that it made all my efforts futile. There was nothing there at all, besides me, the ubiquitous towering trees and perhaps snakes slithering insidiously around me. And the irritant named Laura, a pest that would never go away, of course. However, I would not take her into the picture, because I simply knew that there was not much she could do for me, especially after our lifelong conflict. I was going to die; I knew it, with my blood streaking from my knee down all the way to my leg. I tried to look away from the blood, hoping that this was just a nightmare; and it was just when suddenly I cringed away from the sound of fabric tearing in this silent-reigned forest.

Through the curtain of darkness, I could see Laura cutting the bandages we had been given before the hike. Before I could utter a word, she was already sitting besides me, dressing my wounds with the white bandages. 'Try not to move, okay? Let me dress your wound,' Laura whispered as I stared at her in a loss for words. I wiped away a bead of perspiration on her forehead as she took care of my injury. Was that Laura, the sarcastic and thoughtless girl that I had hated all my life? Or was that a kind Laura that I had always failed to see? After she was done, she took my hand and led us back to the main road. As I held her hand for support, I suddenly realised how silly we both had been. This was indeed a turning point for us; it was the start of a beautiful camaraderie for Laura and me.

It would be a trip that would stay in my mind for years to come. The scene of Laura turning into a nurse, gently taking care of my bleeding wound has never failed to surprise me, even after the dozens of times I replayed the scene in my mind. I will always remember the unexpected kindness that my worst enemy gave me in that eerie, silent night.

Writing Feedback / Speed essay - free interpretation [NEW]

Hi, can you help me look through this? Thank you!

Racing Speed Daemons

The rain slicked down the window and blurred the dim lights outside. The muggy clinical heat of the hospital caused the wet leather jacket of James to steam slightly. People were looking at him as if the helmet in his hands was a severed head.

Jake was lying on his bed, beside James. Everything about him, his calm expression, his relaxed muscles and his comfortable slouch, made it look as if he would wake up any minute. But it had been five months since the crash, and Jake had never opened his eyes. James knew it too well, the longer his brother slept in his coma, the less likely he would ever come back.

James closed his eyes, trying to reminisce the good old days. Jake and he had used to be very happy playing sports everyday. Jake had always been an outstanding sportsman, impressing everybody with his agile movement and admirable speed. It had always been safe and secure back then. However, the moment James brought home his new motorbike, Jake had become a different man. He had been so fascinated by the machine such that he had spent hours after hours practicing riding it in the neighbourhood, neglecting his sports career. At first, James had been delighted to see Jake having fun, but when he realised that Jake had been possessed by the exhilarating and addictive speed of the race, he had become afraid. Something had gone in his beloved brother.

That fateful day still came back and haunted James in his sleep. Five months ago, Jake had asked James to race with him along the highway, and reluctantly he had agreed. They had walked their bikes towards the starting point, James deep in his thought. After putting on his helmet, Jake had reached eighty, one hundred, and even one hundred twenty miles per hour in just five minutes. James had tightened his grip on the handles, alarmed. He had tried to tell Jake to slow down through the thick glass of his helmet, but his brother had been really high; he had merely smirked before speeding up. When Jake reached one hundred and fifty miles per hour, James had decided to give up. He had pulled his brake and decided to wait for his aggressive brother to get his imaginary victory. He had sworn that it would be the last time he would ever race with Jake again; and true enough, it had been the last time he could ever race with Jake. It had happened in just a blink of an eye: Jake's uncontrollable motorbike had crashed right into an approaching truck on the highway; he had tried to jump out of the motorbike before it had crashed, and he had landed on the road, bleeding and broken. It had been too late to take him to the hospital. The blinding light of the truck would haunt James forever unless his brother came back from his coma.

The nurse showed James the exit way; time for visiting had been over. Jake was not a person anymore; he was just a piece of meat waiting to be rotten. Jake was not no longer there. Tears scalded his eyes as he came out into the rain-washed road. It was too late for remorse; James should never have surrendered his brother to the Speed Demons of racing.

Writing Feedback / Drunk - sad story [NEW]

Hi, can you give me some suggestions on this one? This is not my usual style of writing (I hate writing sad stories) but I am trying out something new for my exam, so please help me with it!

Thank you!

John admitted to himself that he had been unreasonable. He had taken a few drinks too many and he knew that he should not have shouted at his wife. However, his remorse came too late. It was already too late to apologise.

John was never a habitual drunk. In fact, he seldom drank. However, that day, he had met two of his best buddies since high school, who insisted on having him to drink. He had protested in futile as his friends dragged him into the bar. At the bar, it was as if a different person had taken over John. He had poured his heart out complaining about his depressing life, his boss who had not given him a promotion for five years, his jealous colleagues and his son's increasingly expensive tuition that he might not be able to afford. He had drunk enough for two or even more. He had become 'high' in just an hour there, and had had no idea how his two friends brought him home.

His eyebrows knitted in anguish as he tried to recollect the details of the night. As soon as he stumbled into his house, his wife had started to grumble. In the midst of his drunkenness, John still could make out that she had been speaking about him being an irresponsible husband. Blood boiled in his veins. Not her too. His house was supposed to be a shelter, a haven, but now it had become just another battlefield for him. He willed his mind to shut out all his wife's complaints, but the accusations she had been raining at him had just been too much. He had been working double-shift for months; he had been taking a second job just to earn more money for her, for this family. Had not all that been enough? Had he lost his right to unwind himself a little just one night? Frustrated, his fist came down on the table with a loud bang.

He remembered the piercing sound of glass shattering as his wife smashed all the glasses on the table. All had been broken, all had been shattered. "Is it really what you want?" her wife had resounded in his already spinning head. His wife started to sob uncontrollably. "I knew it. Our marriage is a mistake. It is irreparable!" Her shriek brought John and all his senses alive. A mistake? He had been speechless. Had she not said marrying him had been a mistake? Had she not meant that having their son had been a mistake as well? His wife's words had sliced right through his heart. John felt cheated. Betrayed. All his efforts to keep this family together had crumbled into dust. In a fit of anger, John had slapped his wife and pushed her to the ground as the he himself had been plunged into unconsciousness.

John had got up the following day only to see a desolate house facing him. His wife had gone, bringing his dearest son. Without her and their son, his once cozy house had looked ever so empty. He had tried to call all her friends and relatives; everybody sounded really sympathetic, but nobody seemed to know where his wife was. It was all a lie, John knew it. They were all in the plot of his indignant wife.

He dragged himself through; each day seemed like a century without his beloved ones. He did not go to work, but just sat there and stared at the paintings of his five-year-old son. He jumped at the phone every time it rang, and snapped at everyone calling after he had ascertained that it was not the voice of his beloved ones. After one week, a letter came from a lawyer, saying that his wife had been filing for a divorce. He was no longer wanted. He would do anything for a second chance to regain his wife's trust, but why had she not let him explain? John staggered to bed, desperate tears scalded his eyes. This punishment was beyond what his "crime" had warranted. He did not deserve to lose his most beloved ones like that. Soon, he willed his mind to shut out the outside world. As he drifted, he dreamed. He dreamed of the day his wife and son would come back to him.

A few days later, his neighbours reported to the police that there was a stench coming from John's flat. When the police broke into the flat, he found a bearded, untidy man lying on the bed. Clutched to his chest was a picture of himself with his wife and his son; on the back of the picture were the scribbled words 'Forgive me, I love you!'- the final message he had left to the people he had loved the most in his life.

Writing Feedback / I used to fear the Night - essay [NEW]

Please help me look through this essay. I need it urgently. Thanks so much for your help!

When I was younger, I used to fear the night. I always thought that in the darkness, there was no life but the ghosts in the fairy tales who would come alive, so I refused to go out after the sun had set. It was not until I joined the Youth Camp in my primary school that I began to realise the irrationality of my phobia.

It all happened when I was at the age of six. My parents sent me to a one-week Camp, hoping that I would become braver. In the programmes scheduled, we had to hike at night in the jungle every day. For me, it was really torturous. Just the prospect of walking in the jungle without being able to see the direction could send shivers down my spine. I cried for a solid half an hour just to stay in the tent, but unfortunately, in the camp, the watch leaders were not so easily convinced. I had no choice but to join in the hike.

The walk was terrifying. Everything was in the dark. I tried to walk on tiptoe so as not to wake the ghosts at night. I dared not turn on the torch light for fear of being easily spotted by the ghosts, so I just walked gingerly stepped by stepped and extended my arms forward to search for any obstacles along the way. After what seemed like centuries of walking, I suddenly found my hands touching something long and damp out of nowhere. Startled, I turned on the torch light, looked up and see a myriad of similar creature hanging from the towering trees. It was the same every where. It felt as if I was stuck in the midst of a maze and unable to escape. My head spun as the strange noise in the jungle filled my ears. Instinctively, I ran away. I tripped.

I came back to the tent with a few bruises on my forehead and tears filled my eyes. I forced my eyes to close, but the image of the terrifying creature hanging on the trees kept replaying in my head. Suddenly, I felt somebody patting on my back. It was the watch leader. She asked if I wanted to take a walk with her.

"Of course not", I snapped back, a little too early to be respectful.
But gently she replied "This time, I will hold the torch light. Trust me, everything is perfectly fine." I wanted to refuse, but there was sincerity ringing in her voice, such that I could not help following her.

After a long walk, the watch leader sat down on a tree buttress root and sat me down on her lap. Then she shone her torch light at the long creatures that I abhorred. I shuddered, but she forced me to look at them and told me that those were called vines, a type of vines and that they would do me no harm. Then she told me to close your eyes and listen. For once, I realised that I had been wrong. There was life at night after all. The sound of bullfrogs singing sounded like a strange orchestra. There was the sound of crickets too. "You are not alone here," the watch leader whispered. Those animals really came alive at night and sang to call out to their lovers. After a long time sitting there, I started to laugh at myself. How could anyone be afraid of the sound of love?

After that night, darkness no longer held a terror in me. My watch leader said that there was no such thing as supernatural; even ghosts, if they do exist, are as natural as living things. I am deeply thankful for the watch leader, who had taught me to confront with my fear of darkness. Indeed, there is nothing to fear, but fear itself; and the only way to overcome fear is to confront it.

Writing Feedback / Being in the middle of the spiral staircase. Essay on Education [5]

Hi,
Can you help me look through this essay and tell me what I can improve on? Thank you so much!

I have been to four different schools in my ten-year school life, and at every school there are always a few spiral staircases. I used to conceive them only as an addition to the aesthetic side of the schools, but now I realise that besides adding grace to the school's environment, spiral staircases exist in schools as a tangible symbol of our education journey.

Once you start your learning journey, you start to step up the steps of the intellectual spiral staircase with great anticipation to marvel at the great heights that your ancestors have achieved over thousands of years. Like a spiral staircase where each stair is built upon another, knowledge is also built up step by step, an old step supports the new one. A scientific breakthrough like the invention of Archimedes Force was surprisingly discovered firstly by observation of Archimedes, one of the leading scientists in the past, during his bath. Many applications have been invented based on the discovery of Archimedes. There is indeed no limit to our learning journey: the more we step up, the more we learn and appreciate these inventions based on what we already know. Without simple calculation, we will never understand Calculus. Without learning about the weather, we will never know why the hurricanes tend to sweep through our place. Our knowledge is constantly cultivated and expanded to new aspects that we never believed we would be capable of understanding as we walk up the spiral staircase of knowledge.

As you walk up the staircase, you feel complacent with yourself, and you start to take your time. Your legs get tired and you want to rest. You sit down for five minutes, ten minutes, and your resting time could get to hours. And your expected time to reach a level lengthens. At other times you may find your journey dizzying. Despair agonizes you as you seem to be merely walking around an invisible pole without any progress. The higher you walk up, the more potent the sensation of the height you can feel. If your very first few steps of the staircase are not built up stably, you can even find yourself shaking tremendously as you move upwards. You are afraid of the fall. And there you stop, stuck in the middle of the spiral staircase, dreaming of reaching your next destination.

Every adventurer is bound to face challenges, but the victorious ones are the ones who never give up. Indeed, in this learning journey, the satisfaction is you get to a new level is worth all your endurances. As long as your spiral staircase is built up firmly, each step you take will be more stable thanks to your strong foundation; then all the tremors in the walk are no longer likelihood. As you walk up the staircase, do not forget to look down and enjoy the amazing clarity of objects that you once viewed at the bottom of the staircase. Even the canopy of the tallest tree is now clear in your view. Let the joy and satisfaction fill your mind as you move upwards to achieve greater heights.

Therefore, whenever you are in the middle of the spiral staircase and feel exhausted or afraid, think of the beautiful sky with the soaring birds that you can reach when you move forward. When you feel the staircase shake, don't hesitate to lean on the rail. Remember, you are never alone in your learning journey; your teachers and friends are always there to support you and help you move forward. Have faith in yourself and persevere; as long as you step up, you are growing nearer to the sky.

Writing Feedback / Speech- should the use of uniform be discarded? [4]

HI,

This is a speech about retaining the use of school uniform. Could you please help me check through, and tell me if my tone is appropriate? Is it too domineering or formal enough, or is there anything I should do to write a better speech in the future?

I am so sorry I posted a few essays at a time, but I really need them urgently. Thank you so much for your help!

Good morning Principal, Members of the Management Committee and fellow schoolmates. On behalf of the Prefectorial Board, I am here to address the issue of discontinuing the wearing of school uniform. After much consideration, the board members have collectively agreed that the school uniform should be retained.

Is there a flaw in our uniform?
Our uniform, with its sleeveless design, has been proven suitable in this hot and humid weather of Singapore over the last hundred years. Not only is it convenient to wear, it is also reasonably priced and affordable for all students. Additionally, it is simply cut, yet possesses a timeless design. Should we discard the uniform, there is likely to be an upswing in the number of cases of students dressing in fashionable yet inappropriate clothes in school. Many students, especially those from the lower-income group, may not be able to afford the high cost of trendy clothes to keep up with their peers, thus creating unhappiness among the student population. This will create gaps within the student population and make the school less conducive for studying, which is not what we want.

Taking security into consideration, we should not discontinue the use of school uniform. After the JI leader, Kastari, broke out of the detention centre last month, he was last seen in our school neighbourhood; and he has not been caught yet. Hence, we should always be vigilant and take all precautions possible to protect our school. Without the uniform, the school guards will not be able to recognise our students from outsiders; thus outsiders can come in our school easily, and we never know when danger will strike. Therefore, we should continue wearing our school uniform as a safety measure to ensure that our school is safe.

Our school has always been regarded as the formidable "sea of blue" and it should remain that way. Our blue uniform and the school badge are usually associated with our academic excellence and impressive sporting achievements. Over our glorious 109 years, our seniors have been wearing the school uniform, and hence it has become our school trademark. Discarding our uniform is no less than burying away our history. We do not have to do away our uniform just for the shallow reason of looking more stylish. We are unique in our blue uniform. Would you rather like to become just a face in the crowd than the face that the crowd turns to face?

On behalf of the Prefectorial Board, thank you for your time and attention. I hope that you will render your support to maintain our school heritage, and remain the formidable "sea of blue".

Letters / 'your holiday been so far' - Informal letter to Sarah [2]

Hi,
Can you help me check through this letter? It is an assignment from school- write a letter to a friend. Is my tone appropriate? Please tell me if my tone is not semi-formal and friendly in any part of the letter.

Thank you so much for helping me!

5 November 2008

Dear Sarah

How has your holiday been so far? Mine has been going great! Now that I am back in Vietnam, I am enjoying every minute of it. Nothing feels like home, you know.

Now I am in my hometown, forty kilometres away from Hanoi. Do you remember Leila, my cousin, who used to stay with my family during her time in college a few years back? She is getting married tomorrow, can you believe it? Time passes so fast! That is why I came back to my hometown; I am excited to help her arrange everything.

Leila's home, where I am staying now, is on a farmland. It is very much different from my home in Hanoi, where you visited last year. The countryside is so much more peaceful; cars and their annoying horns are rarely seen. There are a lot of wide spaces for teenagers to hang out, unlike in the city; I even got to fly a kite! It was so much fun.

In the last few days, I mainly accompanied Leila in her shopping trips to prepare for the wedding. She was ecstatic. There was not much shopping left to do, since her careful mother and mother-in-law had been preparing for this occasion for months; but I did get to see Leila's wedding dress and her traditional "ao dai". I enclosed a picture of me and Leila in her "ao dai" in this letter. She looks so lovely, don't you think?

Tomorrow is the big day, and all of us are going to be very busy. Everybody, except for Leila, has to get up at cock-crow to prepare some traditional food for the wedding. I am going to hit the kitchen too. I don't know how to cook, but I will try to learn something simple; and hopefully I will not break anything. In the afternoon, I will help Leila get dressed and make up, before she goes out and greets her family and relatives who come and visit her house. The party takes place in the evening, at a local hotel. I promised Leila that I would help in the reception, so I guess I will wear my traditional "ao dai" like her, too. The wedding is going to be really memorable.

I will be leaving for my home the day after tomorrow, and I will fly back to Singapore next week. I will bring you some Vietnamese food and the pictures of the wedding. Can't wait to see you!

Take care and enjoy your holiday.

Love,

Letters / Formal recommendation letter re: the vacation job [4]

Hi, can you help me check through this letter? This is one of my assignments. I'm particularly worried about my tone. It should be respectful and formal. Can you tell me if it is appropriate?

Dear Mrs. Lim

Re: The Vacation Job

On behalf of my class, thank you for offering us this one-week vacation job. After much consideration, we have unanimously decided on participating as student reporters for the national newspaper.

All of our classmates share a common interest in writing. Many of them are our school magazine correspondents. Most of us have been chosen to represent the school in writing competitions, and we managed to clinch high-ranking positions in the National Essay writing Competition earlier this year. Based on our interests, we would love to hone our writing skills through practical work, and working as student reporters will provide us with just the skills we need.

By working as student reporters, we all have the chance to observe how a newspaper is produced. The senior reporters will provide us help along the way, as we explore the different aspects in a newspaper. We are given the chance to conduct our personal interviews with the athlete champions, students at our age, who have won over different categories at the National Youth Sporting Championship. This hands-on experience will provide us with more effective communication skills, benefiting us in any career that we may choose in the future. After that, the senior reporters will continue to help us by editing our articles and reports; presentation skills, for example, how to enclose useful illustrations to the articles will also be taught. We will certainly improve our critical thinking and writing techniques through close coordination with these experienced correspondents.

After one week working at the national newspaper, we hope that we can improve our formal writing skills as well as our communication skills. With these valuable lessons, we will apply and fine-tune our compositions at school, our articles in the school magazine as well as our works in the future career. Moreover, working as student reporters allows us to enjoy the freedom of travelling like real correspondents; understanding the working environment of the journalists will help us consider our future career more wisely, especially for those who wish to work in the media sector.

The other career guidance programs are both very effective in giving us the insights of the work scope. However, we have already experienced being tutors in the Peer Mentoring Program organised by the school. The skills to organise a store and display stocks attractively introduced in the Sales Job program are also very useful; nonetheless we had had workshop addressing these skills before we held our School Carnival this May. The job as a reporter will thus suit our class more, as it provides us with brand-new experience on the field that we unanimously agreed on.

I hope that you will consider our class's recommendation. Thank you for your kind attention.

Yours sincerely

Book Reports / Real courage- To kill a Mockingbird essay [4]

Hi,
This is my assignment on To Kill a Mockingbird. Can you help me check through and comment on my styles? Can you give me some advice on how to do a better analysis in terms of writing structure? I tries to give point-evidence-elaboration. Please tell me if there is something lacking.

Thanks so much in advance:)

"Real courage is- when you know you are licked before you begin, but you begin anyway, and you see it through no matter what..." Discuss the concept of courage as depicted by Mrs. Dubose and Atticus.

Harper Lee introduced the concept of moral courage through the image of Mrs. Dubose, a morphine addict who wished to get rid of her painkiller before leaving the world and Atticus Finch, the principled lawyer who went against the prejudiced society of Maycomb to protect a black man, Tom Robinson.

Mrs. Dubose had been taking morphine as a painkiller, prescribed by doctors, for years. Before she died, she wanted to get rid of the drug, so that she would die "beholden to nothing and nobody". As an old and sick woman, she had every right for take the drug to live the few months left in peace, "to make things easier", as Atticus said, but she followed her personal principles and chose the other way. Her decision resulted in a series of withdrawal fits. Jem and Scout were made to come to her house to read for her every day, and they were terrified to see "cords of saliva collect on her lips" and "her mouth seemed to have a private existence of its own". Mrs. Dubose asked them to come and read for her so as to distract her from the unmitigated agony. In fact, she was in a world of her own and did not hear the children; most of the time she would be waiting for the alarm clock to ring. And as the children noticed, the alarm clock rang a few minutes later every day, they stayed back a few minutes later everyday, and by that time, Mrs. Dubose had already been deep in her fits.

Mrs. Dubose exemplified moral courage, as she neglected her own personal suffering to follow her own principles. She could have chosen to take the drug to die without agony, but she was too contrary. And thus, she died "beholden to nothing and nobody". As Atticus said, "she won", with no guns or pistols but with her own determination, and she was the bravest person he had ever known. Harper Lee could have chosen a more likable character, like Miss Maudie, to show the goodness of people. Instead, she chose Mrs. Dubose, the prejudiced member of Maycomb, who insulted Atticus as "nigger-lover" to show the concept of courage. By doing so, Lee suggests that there is always something good in everybody, no matter how unappealing that person appears to be. Moreover, this courage concept is contrasted with her prejudice, thus becoming more outstanding for the audience.

Throughout the novel, Atticus has been portrayed as the model of moral courage. He went against the whole town to protect the innocent black man, Tom Robinson. Before the trial, he had already been insulted by the term "nigger-lover" by many people, including his own family members. Francis echoed the ranting of Aunt Alexandra, saying that Atticus was a disgrace for the family, that "he would never be able to walk the streets of Maycomb". He was even confronted by his friends trying to talk him out of it, as Link Deas said, "[Atticus] has everything to lose". Atticus did realise this problem; he knew that he was "fighting [his] friends"; "no matter how bitter things get, they are still [his] friends and this is still [his] home". Despite all the pressure, he determined to carry on so as to justice.

Before the case, Atticus had already known that he had little chance to win. He knew that with only "a black man's words against the Ewells", the white, "in the heart of men he had no case". There was no way for Tom Robinson to be proven innocent, for prejudice had been deep-rooted in Maycomb; everybody had an evil assumption that a Negro was not to be trusted, while a white man would never lie. He knew already that he would lose anyway, but Atticus kept trying to defend him, to bring the light of justice into Maycomb. The fear or failure was not strong enough to discourage him from his principle; it was like "you know that you are licked before you begin, but you begin no matter what".

Even when Atticus faced danger, he did not back off. In front of the Maycomb Jail, he was confronted by the lynch mob, without any weapon or protection from Heck Tate, who had "been called off a snipe hunt". The situation was so alarming that Mr. Underwood had to use his double-barrelled gun to try to cover for Atticus from his office on top of the jail. Atticus was not obligated by law to protect his client but he took on the responsibility so that his client could be judged in court, not by physical action, the kind of courage that Maycomb took as priority. Atticus put himself in danger's way to let the truth be told. Moral courage is Atticus's best asset, making him the most respectable keeper of justice in Maycomb.

Therefore, the idea of moral courage is deeply enforced in the novel through the image of Atticus and Mrs. Dubose.

Writing Feedback / Traditional Costumes - Reflective essay [4]

Hi,
This is an essay I wrote as a reflection. Can you look through it for me? Tell me what you think ;] especially if it sounds racist or whatever. If it is the case, I don't mean to do that at all. It's really just my personal opinion over the time... you know (:

TRADITIONAL COSTUMES

Traditional costumes are peculiar to or characteristic of a certain nation or ethnic group, which usually retains strong elements of the culture from which it originates. In areas where contemporary Western fashions have become usual, traditional costumes are often worn in connection with special events and celebrations, particularly those connected with cultural traditions, heritage, or pride. Some countries even have their traditional costumes as the uniform of the national airline stewardesses to promote their culture to passengers.

My mother is a big fan of the delicate "ao dai". As a diplomat, she has always brought "ao dai" to introduce to our neighbours around the region. She has a full admirable album of the pictures she took of her dressed gracefully in different types of "ao dai", which I have always looked at with pure admiration. There, I grew up, taking great pride in my traditional costume. Wearing traditional costume shows a sense of loyalty and pride of one's nation; and long ago, I made a promise to myself that one day, I would be like my mother, sharing our love for "ao dai" to the world.

That day had come. Last year, I had the first chance to showcase my "ao dai" to my Singaporean friends during Racial Harmony Day celebration. The schoolyard was painted with a myriad of colours from the traditional costumes. However, I realised that nobody was wearing their ethnic costumes; they were all in the clothes of other races. In one corner, my Chinese-descended friends were struggling to tug the nine-meter-strip of silk into their PE shorts instead of the traditional petticoat of the elegant Indian ladies. I had never expected anything like that. The traditional costume of a race or a nation is something sacred, something that I will never compromise over. It is the symbol of one tradition, a signature of honour and loyalty for a historic culture. Putting on another traditional costume in my opinion then, was plain disrespectful for your own ancestors. And for the Indian girls, I wondered if they were aghast to see their costumes wrongly worn. Nearby, a Malay girl was running to catch her friends in the feminine "cheongsam". Even my teacher, an Indian native, was wearing "kabaya" of the Indonesian. I was simply at a loss for words. Had the elegant traditional costumes become just another brainchild of fashion? Had traditional clothes ceased to matter in this cosmopolitan city of Singapore?

Time has given me the answer. After a year and a half living in this melting pot of culture, I realise that traditional costumes have never lost their meaning. As a multi-racial country, Singapore has been striving to bring their citizens together as one people. By wearing other races' traditional costumes, these people do not neglect their own cultural identity; instead they express their appreciation and respect towards the other cultures. These people are not shaming their ancestors, but they are showing a good will to reach out to other friends and embrace their heritage. The traditional costumes turn out to have gained more importance in the current days. They are no more just an identity; they have become a bridge, joining people with the uniqueness of their heritage.

Ultimately, traditional costumes are just clothes; what makes them stand out is the underlying intention of not only representing a group of people, but also joining this group of people with the other groups harmoniously. This year's Racial Harmony Day, I am planning to exchange my "ao dai" for my roommate's "cheongsam". This way, my "ao dai" can truly shine in the celebratory atmosphere of the day.

Writing Feedback / Are rich children always happier than those who come from poorer families? [6]

Hi,

Can you help me check through my work? I am rather worried over the arguments, as some of them do not seem to follow the instructions of the question. Also, can you tell me if my thesis is not clear or anything is wrong, so that I can do some adjustment?

Please help me with this, I need it urgently. Thanks in advance!

When I was in primary school, I always looked at a classmate named Jesslynn with pure admiration. Her stationeries drew gaze of jealousy from all our classmates; she had her own car driver instead of travelling by school bus; her beautiful outfits outshone us all. Everybody called her "Princess", and we thought that princesses are supposedly the happiest people in the world.

'Princess' Jesslynn belongs to a group of privileged children, who were fortunately born in richer families. Their high standard of living allows them to enjoy a more comfortable life than many who come from poorer families. The richer girls may take dance, choral and art class for granted, but they have no idea that those less fortunate could only peek through the windows of the classrooms, eyes burning with admiration. The boys who are always the first to have the newest cars from 'Toys R Us' may not be able to imagine playing with paper boats like his peers from the neighbourhood usually do. The group of richer children enjoy every comfort in their life since their young age; everybody think that they are utterly happy and fortunate.

However, throughout my years at school, I have learnt that, it takes the modern 'princes' and 'princesses' a long and winding road to become the happiest people in the world. School life can be a pain for these children. At a young age, they are already put in the spotlight at the centre of the school, because of their expensive belongings or their behaviour. How could I ever forget, our discovery of Jesslynn not knowing how to mop the floor created a buzz among our classmates. The imaginative mind of young children is apt to create stories; and these stories about how Jesslynn was indulged by her parents, how spoilt she was and so forth started to float around. Poor Jesslynn could do nothing but sit alone during school breaks. Being stereotyped and rumoured is not so easy to face, especially at such a young age. The spotlight that one's background unintentionally creates can form a distinct line between the rich and the poor kids, isolating them further apart.

I remembered, once, Jesslynn asked me: "What is it about ice-cream that you all love it so much?" Her questions left me at a loss for words. How could I possibly describe to her the heavenly taste of an ice-cream, when its coolness makes your tongue go numb for a second and drives you to take another bite the next second? I had always thought that the attraction of ice-cream was a universal truth; but I was wrong, at least not for Jesslynn. Only until now do I truly realise what she meant when she asked me that question. The richer children like Jesslynn already have too much; everything a child can possibly crave is in abundance around them, so they rarely have a burning desire for something. Perhaps that is why they never crave ice-cream, the delicacy that poorer kids like us only occasionally have as a treat for our good marks. That is also probably why they could never fathom the sadness of losing a balloon when they let it fly away, the feeling so strong that it could drive the poorer kids to tears. To crave over something you rarely have, or to weep over losing something you love dearly, indeed, is the mundane happiness that a child should never miss. And for the rich children, their childhood would not be completely perfect without these moments.

Life is not a bed of roses; regardless of their background, every child would have his own world of happiness and sorrow. Sometimes, I shudder to realise that I hardly saw a smile on 'princess' Jesslynn's face; mostly she would look out to the bunch of us, from poorer families, running around excitedly and playing together. Perhaps, although being richer gave her a more comfortable life than us, it had no voice in making her happier.

Writing Feedback / "Teenagers nowadays have adopted a consumerist lifestyle." [5]

Please help me check my expressions and grammar in this essay. Do you think that I'm a bit off topic?

"Teenagers nowadays have adopted a consumerist lifestyle."
What is your opinion about the above statement?

Stacey, a seventeen-year-old Vietnamese student, proudly walked out of her high school front gate in her $70 Esprit tee-shirt and a $150 pair of Levi's jeans. She fished for her hand-phone inside the $299 Guess leather bag and called for a taxi; she was in a hurry to join her friends in a concert, just about ten-minute walking from her school.

In a country where average annual income is around $600, Stacey's outfit could have fed a three-people family for a year. As shocking as it may seem, Stacey is not the odd one in the crowd. She belongs to a group of privileged teenagers, who, thanks to the rapid improvement in living standards, have a lot more money to spend, and thus conveniently choose to indulge themselves in a consumerist lifestyle.

Nowadays, teenagers seem to be wavering towards a consumerist lifestyle due to many reasons other than having more money to spend. Their life now is inundated with a wide variety of media. With unlimited access to the Internet, television and foreign magazines, teenagers are more exposed to Western lifestyle than ever; and they adapt to changing trends as fast as a chameleon. It is no longer rare to see teenage girls walking along the streets in extravagant clothes like a human collage of magazine cut-outs. The $1,500 sweet-sixteen birthday party in MTV style in a five-stared hotel that Sarah, a student from a middle-class Singaporean family, had insisted on having does not seem anymore ostentatious. The media has too much influence on them; teenagers now look up to the shallow luxury of celebrities featured through various means of media as the dream life they yearn to live.

What's more, teenagers now desperately desire a sense of belonging within their contemporaries. Honestly, in this materialistic world, how many teenagers would choose to live a bland, frugal life to be called 'a freak' in the student population? Instead, they choose to go with the flow. When a boy in your class has a new X-box game player, you beg your parents to buy for you. When a girl dazzles the whole school with her new silver bracelet, how could you lose out by not having one? This is the attitude many teenagers are following; their world turns out to be a mere race for popularity, a meaningless competition for a brief moment of spotlight within their contemporaries.

Eventually, teenagers should realise that life is not a bed of roses; one day they will have to get out of their selfish, short-sighted shell and live for the community. When Sarah realises that instead of spending excessive money on the birthday party, she could have saved up for college, when Stacey understands that she could have used her money to donate for the victims of the recent cyclone in Myanmar, it will be a vital turning-point in their life. However, that day is still far to come. Now, these consumerist teenagers are solely eager to enjoy their self-centred life, obviously oblivious to their future as well as the suffering of others.

Writing Feedback / 'Vietnam's natural attractions' - something that make you proud about your country [NEW]

Hey, it's been such a long time since I last posted. I have been slacking so far, and I guess it's time for me to start studying seriously again :)

Can you help me look through this essay? In some parts, there are some awkward phrasings and all, can you give me suggestions to improve it?

Thanks so much in advance!

People can travel around the world, staying in many famous places, but in the end each one of us only have one nation that we proudly call our home country. After travelling to many countries, experiencing a variety of cultural practices, I realise how lucky I am to be born in Vietnam, a heroic nation.

Vietnam is an ideal destination for any tourists who wish to experience a dynamic lifestyle blended with tranquillity. In any typical village of Vietnam, you will be surprised to see the white hats of the painstaking farmers stand out in the golden paddy fields under the bright sunlight everyday. The songs they sing in the fields drive away all the exhaustion of the warm weather and give tourists a refreshed mind, thus leaving an unforgettable impression on them.

What's more, my country is blessed with spectacular natural attractions. Anybody who once goes to Vietnam would like to visit again the magical Halong Bay, a range of mountains shaped in the form of auspicious animals. The glorious waterfall in Dalat City and the legendary love story passed down from hundreds of years ago will always stay fresh in the mind of anybody who has visited this city of romance.

In addition to the natural beauty of Vietnam, I am also proud of her because of its long and heroic history. Over the last thousand years, our people have shown their courage and loyalty to our beloved country by standing up to defend her against any intruders. Despite our forefathers' poor supple of weapons, they used anything they had, from knives to plough, to protect the nation against the powerful and advanced armed forces of France and America. Their courage had inspired other colonies around the world, including Laos, Cambodia and Cuba to fight for independence. I truly feel proud of my ancestors and feel blessed to be a Vietnamese.

Nowadays, due to our enormous success in the wars in the past, foreigners would regard Vietnam as a country only with an unassailable fighting spirit. We are not an aggressive nation; we only take up arms when the country calls for it; after bloodshed, we put away our weapons and lead a peaceful life. Our people are highly-disciplined and very talented. All Vietnamese alike have the spirit of striving for greater heights. The story of Mr. Nguyen Ngoc Ky, whose arms were disabled, can attest to this. His insatiable quest for knowledge had not been hampered by his disability, and he now is a famous, inspiring poet. I have heard of stories of Vietnamese students abroad like me around the world, overcoming all the hardships they face to achieve outstanding results in their studies. Whenever I think of these people, I can easily a sense of national pride, and I question myself, if they can do it, why can't I?

What I most admire about my fellow Vietnamese is that they have kind hearts towards each other. Last year, when Can Tho Bridge collapsed, the death toll rose up to thousands. When I was helplessly praying for the unfortunate victims, many people around Vietnam had already started forming volunteer groups to travel to the South and help those in need, not bothering about the troubles they would face. Times like that spark off within me the love and pride for my nation. Whether we are from the South or from the North, we are still one people, we are Vietnamese.

Whenever I say the word 'Vietnam', a thought of affection will cross my mind. Even though my country is still poor, I love every thing about her, from our usual everyday lifestyle to our fantastic attractions, from our heroic history to our humane and talented people. Hopefully, I will grow up into a good Vietnamese, to continue our success history and do my country proud.

Poetry / "Lights out" - poem analysis [5]

Hi, I'm doing the analysis of this poem, Lights out. This is the analysis of the first three stanzas. Can you give me some suggestions on how to improve my arguments?

Through simple and rhythmic language, Edward Thomas shows us other interesting aspects of sleep.

I have come to the borders of sleep,
The unfathomable deep
Forest where all must lose
Their way, however straight,
Or winding, soon or late;
They cannot choose.

In the first stanza, Thomas describes sleep as a powerfully alluring gift of nature. Metaphorically, sleep is compared to getting lost in a deep, dark forest, one that we are naturally drawn to, one that we can never resist.

Many a road and track
That, since the dawn's first crack,
Up to the forest brink,
Deceived the travellers,
Suddenly now blurs,
And in they sink.

Here love ends,
Despair, ambition ends,
All pleasure and all trouble,
Although most sweet or bitter,
Here ends in sleep that is sweeter
Than tasks most noble.

In these two stanzas, Thomas shows that sleep comes to us as a great relief from our hard and painful daily routine. In our selfish craze for more and more material gain, we may start work from dawn, not allowing ourselves necessary rest. But when sleep approaches us, we will submit ourselves to its sweet temptations. Soon we step into an unknown and mysterious dreamland. We cannot simply resist it. It is also a natural cure to our miseries and fatigue. We put the lights out and enjoy a peaceful slumber.

Besides showing his gratefulness to the comfort that sleep brings, Thomas's poem depicts death through its implicit resemblance with sleep. Death is a natural process of life, one nobody can ever resist. It comes naturally, rescuing people from their hectic routine, from their troubled lives and opens for them another door, "sweeter than tasks most noble".

The last two stanzas are those I'm having problems on.
There is not any book
Or face of dearest look
That I would not turn from now
To go into the unknown
I must enter and leave alone
I know not how.

Here I suppose the author is trying to say that death is irresistible. You have to go alone into it. Can you give me some ideas? I don't really get this stanza.

The tall forest towers;
Its cloudy foliage lowers
Ahead, shelf above shelf;
Its silence I hear and obey
That I may lose my way
And myself.

This, I suppose, is talking about how mysterious/ dangerous looking death is, with the foliage and tall trees towering. It is like leaving all your life behind. It is like losing yourself to nature, to your instinct, to return to the purest of life.

Can you tell me what "shelf above shelf" refer to? Is it the towering tree or what can it be? And what can you say about the paradox "Its silence I hear"?

Thanks so much!

Poetry / Question regarding "A Poison Tree" [2]

Hi,
Can you help me clarify a few questions regarding this poem called "A poison tree"?

William Blake
I was angry with my friend:
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe;
I told it not, my wrath did grow.

And I water'd it in fears,
Night & morning with my tears;
And I sunned it with my smiles
And with soft deceitful wiles.

And it grew both day and night,
Till it bore an apple bright;
And my foe beheld it shine,
And he knew that it was mine,

And into my garden stole
When the night had veil'd the pole:
In the morning glad I see
My foe outstretch'd beneath the tree

1. The foe knows that the fruit belongs to the poet, but does he know that the fruit is poison?
2. What fears does the poet have in mind while nurturing his tree of hatred?
3. I understand that it is the foe who stole the fruit from the poet's tree. So the poet does not technically mean to kill his foe. Am I correct?

Poems are so difficult to understand. Thanks for helping me!

Letters / Writing to the Principal to recommend the President for a computer society [2]

Hi,

This assignment I have is to write to the Principal to recommend the President for a computer society. Can you help me look through and see if anything is unsound, or is there any grammatical/expression mistakes?

Dear Mrs. Low

Re: Recommendation of President of Computer Society

Thank you for giving me the opportunity to recommend the President of the Computer Society. My recent interviews with the two candidates proved that both of them are capable of being farsighted leaders. However, after thorough deliberation, I would like to seek your approval to appoint Rashida Abdul Hamid to take up this responsibility.

Currently the secretary of the society, Rashida Abdul Hamid has a lot of experience in teamwork. Able to communicate with her team members effectively, Rashida has successfully led small teams in various school-based projects and recently won first prize in the Young Designers Competition. Her participation in setting up the gaming station in our school carnival further proved her capability. Hence, I strongly feel that Rashida has the competence to inspire her team mates and do the school proud with further achievements in the future.

Well-liked among our peers due to her outgoing and charismatic nature, Rashida has been of great help to bond our members together in every year's orientation games. With an insatiable appetite for learning, Rashida is well-versed in computer programming. As I have observed, she is always ready to share her knowledge to help her peers accomplish their programming skills, even if she has to stay back late. Consequently, I believe that all of our members would be satisfied to have a committed President like Rashida.

With her experience as a leader, Rashida handles administrative work efficiently and with ease, but never hastily. Recently, I find out from my interview with her, that Rashida is a daring risk-taker. She told me her dream of planning a project to equip the school with more personal computers by getting sponsorship from Green Peace Cooperation as well as through our annual fund-raising program, which I fully support. Should this plan be initiated, our students from low-income families will have better chance to get access to the Internet to broaden their horizon. Hence, I truly believe that Rashida would make a farsighted leader, who will bring our Computer Society to greater heights.

Kelvin Lam, the other candidate, also proves to be a talented student, with wide knowledge of software applications and website design. A very trust-worthy and meticulous person, Kelvin has been appointed as our treasurer of year 2008. He always thinks through the matters carefully before taking any actions; consequently his work, though maybe slower, has always been accurate. Recently, Kelvin has succeeded in raising S$5,000 for our society fund in a major project named APKA among all the schools in Singapore. Kelvin has proposed a plan to conduct a series of workshop throughout the year to familiarise students with useful software to help them with their schoolwork. This interesting program aims to promote computer literacy among our peers, which is very important in the modern world. Hence, his well-planned proposal proves him an equally capable leader.

However, in my opinion, as a reserved person, Kelvin does not have the charisma to bond the team together like Rashida. The President must have the support of all our team mates. Keeping this in mind, I believe that Rashida would become an inspiring leader for our society.

I hope that you would agree with my judgement to select the best leader for our Computer Society in the upcoming year.

Thank you for your kind attention.

Thank you so much for your help!

Poetry / I have to write a Poem Review (but I've never read any English poems!) [14]

Hi,

I have an assignment about poetry. I'm supposed to find a poem and do some analysis on it, but I have never read any English poems, so I'm pretty clueless now. Can you suggest me some poems that are easy to understand and analyze?

Thank you so much!