Hi! My name is Kara Meade, I'm 19 years old and originally from right here in central Ohio. My family moved around a little when I was little and we also lived in Washington the state and connecticut. My major is currently hospitality management. I am really excited about it because I want to do something pertaining to event planning and that could include so much! I would say one of my hobbies is young life because it takes up a lot of my time. I live on campus and I'm currently training to be a leader, so it's nice to have the fellowship that I do at my house.
From my first quarter of college, I would definitely say that English 109.01 was my favorite class. I enjoyed the atmosphere of it with the small class, and in depth discussions. I learned so much about the writing process, I never really knew how much precise details were necessary to complete a well done paper. That was for sure the area I saw myself grow the most, I feel as though a well thought out paper will come with so much ease now. Reading is even an area where i saw myself grow. Active reading was a big help in that, by making my brain depict language better.
The piece of writing I chose to read was snapshot two, characterization of a person. I picked this piece of writing because I actually described my grandpa. I really liked this snapshot i wrote because it brings back so many memories about him and my childhood. He was such an inspiration because he was such a character. No one else can compare to my Papa, I think the theme would just be family.
Growing up around my grandpa, was at times, intimidating to say the least. Papa was an English gentleman born and raised in Kharagpur, India who came to America when he was eighteen. He mostly frightened me as a little girl because of the strong willed presence he brought about the room. He had a deep accent and it was hard for me to understand him a lot, but I was usually too scared to ask him to repeat what he had sad. Papa had grey and black hair that was always slicked with a fragrant gel that matched his strong cologne. I usually envision him in his big hunting boots, suspenders, plaid flannel underneath, and a mad bomber hat to match as he is walking down his long driveway to get the paper everyday. The thing I remember most about my papa are his wise ways, and his stories about world war two, or just silly one he made up. After the death of my uncle when I was little, I distinctly remember sitting on my papa’s lap and asking him what all the beauty marks all over his olive skin were. He just laughed and said, “Oh they are from all my children and grandchildren my girl!” I come from a family of about thirty cousins, so this explanation made perfect sense to me because he had so many all over him. He explained that while every one of his kids or grandkids were being born, he pinched himself in certain places out of nervousness. So I got all excited and asked where mine was, where one of my cousins were, and I pretty much named every relative. He was patient with me and would act like he knew exactly where each one was. The bigger beauty marks were usually where the older kids were. I like thinking back to this memory of my papa because although he was a well known respected man around the town, I can still recall his kind and silly nature towards his beloved grandchildren.