English 101

Jocelyn Rivas

Placing a Screen Above Your Role as a Parent

Sitting across from me is my friend Cindy. We had just gone up to get our food after hearing the buzzing and seeing the flashing of the red lights that circle the device. After picking up the spoon to drink the soup, she stops me, “let me take a snap.” I put the silver spoon down and smile for the picture as the silverware is submerged in the soup. Teenagers cant seem to go out without posting a snap of where they are, who they’re with, and what they’re doing. Cell phones are what we cling to, can’t stay away from, and can’t seem to get enough of.

Teenagers are not the only ones affected by technology, parents are as well, which is even more frightening.

The hypocrisy of adults seeps through when they criticize teens for their cell phone use. In “Patterns of Mobile Device Use by Caregivers and Children During Meals in Fast Food Restaurants,” Radesky among many others take note of observations that are reflective of the barriers phones pose in families. The authors state that parents enveloped by their phone tend to “ignore the child’s behavior… and then react with a scolding tone” (Radesky, e847). If you’re concentrated on something you will be upset when interrupted. That is the case for parents when their kids try to get their attention and they’re too busy on their phone. I wasn’t stunned by the fact that “smartphones and tablets were provided to some toddlers” (e847) because that’s something I see quite often when I go out to eat or even at church. Parents give their kids devices to calm them down because devices are a distraction. I find that my five year old brother constantly asks me for my phone to either watch a movie or play games. He sits very quietly on his bed whenever I let him use it which is exactly what parents intend to do by giving their phone to their kids in public areas, ensure that their child is calm.

Erika Christakis argues that cell phones have been the cause of parents pushing their children aside and being unaware of their surroundings. In “The Dangers of Distracted Parenting,” Christakis makes it evident how critical it is for a parent to be there for their child, not only physically but emotionally as well. In one of the experiments which was sought out to test how easily parents avert their attention from teaching their kids a word to answering a phone call, it was found that “when the mothers were interrupted by a call, the children did not learn the word” (Christakis, 3). I wasn’t surprised by this finding because when too many things are going on, children are not fully attentive. In this case, the phone was a major distraction. What I found to be one of the most important lines in this article is how time wasted on “devices is time not spent exploring the world and relating to other human beings” (Christakis,1). Instead of watching something that will most likely have no benefit on your life, you could be doing something productive or useful. For example, bond with your kids by playing a game with them or bake something together.

However, some might argue that watching things online are in fact helpful. Christakis disagrees and thinks that actually, watching what some may think is an educational video, is nothing more than just “cognitive garbage” (Christakis,1). I have to agree with Christakis because personally, I learn better with hands on activities and face to face instruction. This concept can be applied to children learning, they learn from what they see and hear. Watching things online just entertains them.

I find that people have a hard time communicating in person because they have grown accustomed to staying connected with others through technology. We are losing important abilities, communication is what gets you the job at the interview, it helps you sound educated. Lack of communicating in person could also explain how teenagers in present time appear to never be able to stay away from words such as “um” and can’t seem to get a sentence out without saying “like.”

Towards the end of the article Christakis shifts the argument in a way that lightens what she’s trying to say. The author sounds more understanding, she points out all of the things parents have to get done which ranges from a variety of things including working and running errands. It is conveyed that being away from your child is healthy, you don’t have to be with them every second of every day. It’s perfectly fine to be separated for some time, it helps kids build independence.

Most importantly, “we do much more by simply doing less” (Christakis, 4). Less time on your phone means less time away from your kid. After all, was that Facebook status more important than your child?

Works Cited:

Christakis, Erika. “The Dangers of Distracted Parenting.” The Atlantic, 16 June 2018, https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2018/07/the-dangers-of-distracted-parenting/561752/.

Jenny S. Radesky, Caroline J. Kistin, Barry Zuckerman, et al. “Patterns of Mobile Device Use by Caregivers and Children During Meals in Fast Food Restaurants.” AAP News & Journals, 01 April 2014, http://pediatrics.aappublications.org/content/133/4/e843.

 

 

 

 

 

Jocelyn Rivas

I relied heavily on your review when editing my memoir. It was helpful to read the constructive criticism you provided because it gave me a place to start. I now knew what had to be changed. You mentioned that the end was more interesting where I talked about how crazy my home was now, thats why I added the example of my sister putting my brothers car in the microwave. I tried to expand on the end even more by adding how the family dynamic had changed, this is why I felt it was necessary to include the sense of responsibility I felt. I mentioned the “spills” and “writing on the walls” just to give an idea of what I end up cleaning.

My partner’s peer review mostly said good things about my essay so I honestly didn’t make any changes based on what was suggested on that comment. I was told that going into more detail about how I felt in the moment would help. I decided not to go further into my excitement because I thought that by describing my appearance I did just that. She also told me to talk more about the flowers which I felt was unnecessary because it isn’t the focal point of the memoir. Her peer review was helpful in letting me know what I wrote that was effective and appealing.

In “The Maker’s Eye,” Donald Murray claims that a rough draft allows us to “ begin writing.” (paragraph 1) This is true, a rough draft is only a blueprint and it will simply guide us. My rough draft allowed me to add details to what was already there and to bring up new ideas as well. Murray also states that many times people write something down yet when they look at it a second time and try to expand on an idea, they don’t “understand how to go about it.” (paragraph 8) I found myself struggling to develop the end into something more than just my sister’s birth by focusing on the shift in family dynamic. I didn’t know how to expand on a topic while keeping the reader’s attention and constantly asked myself if readers would find it to be getting boring.

Jocelyn Rivas

Professor Pappas

English 101

12 October 2018

The Change I’ve Always Wanted

    There I was with my mom, sitting on the living room carpet, each of us holding a Barbie doll in our hands. We were pretending that they were going to a party together, but first they had to change. I looked at the options and ended up shouting “the pink dress,” that’s what I wanted my doll to wear. It would be held in the dining room, although in my head it was at a much fancier place, perhaps in one similar to those in Disney movies. In a massive castle with long stairwells and a chandelier that protrudes in the middle of the ceiling. I was an only child for seven years and whenever I played as a little kid it was almost always with my mom. I didn’t have a sibling to play with me so I constantly found that the one person entertaining me was my mom, someone four times my age. At least she made an effort to make me happy by going along with my scenarios, she appeared to have fun every time but it sometimes crossed my mind that maybe she wasn’t. Isn’t she tired, with that big round belly filling up that shirt? She was due anytime now. Besides, what adult wants to play pretend on their free time?

In just like that, I found myself being dropped off at my aunt’s house because my mom was in labor. I was anxious the entire time, wondering if my sister had been born yet. It wasn’t until the next day that I saw the white truck come into the driveway. I was jump roping outside with my cousin and immediately stopped when I saw my dad’s truck. It was time, my dad was bringing me to the hospital to see my newborn sister. I had wanted a sibling for as long as I could remember.

We went home first because my dad was going to get clothes ready for my mom since she was getting out of the hospital in two days. We also went home for another reason, my dad wanted me to change and look presentable. I was too excited so that wasn’t going to happen, I thought it would just slow us down and I wanted to get the the hospital as soon as possible. I just wanted to leave already. I didn’t end up changing. I went with blue jeans that fit me too big and a pink short sleeve shirt. My hair, that was the worse part, I hadn’t even done it. My hair was all over the place, strands falling in my face almost, yet I somehow managed to keep it in a hair tie. I didn’t care about how I looked.

Finally, we were in the truck. I thought, how long does it really take to put a shirt and pants in a bag for mom to change? “Did you see her? How does she look?” I kept asking questions the entire car ride, I’m surprised my dad didn’t seem to be getting sick of them.

Oh no, another stop. Flowers! How dare we show up without flowers! We went to stop and shop and my dad told me to pick out a bouquet of roses for her. I had a hard time choosing, I relied heavily on the colors they had when coming to a decision. I chose the bouquet with red and yellow roses. “Those” I told my dad.

We’re here, going up the elevator, and before I know it, I was pushing the white door open and saw my mom laying on the bed. I gave her the flowers and immediately, almost urgently, asked about my sister. “She’s with the nurse,” she says. Of course she is I think. Time starts to pass by slowly and then I realize something, I haven’t really spent time with both of my parents, my dad works long shifts and by the time he usually gets home, I am asleep. Yet here we are together, at the hospital. The door opens again and the nurse walks in, pushing the baby in what to me appears to be a white bin, but is actually similar to a crib. There she is, asleep and so beautiful. She was bundled up in a white blanket that had a blue and red stripe on it. She had a hat with thick pink and purple stripes on it, with a pom pom on the top. It was the beginning of July I wondered why they put a hat on her.

At home, I constantly found myself running around the house getting things for my mom. She would always tell me to “go get the baby cloth” or “can you watch her while I go shower.” The older I got, the more I found myself taking care of her.

I later came to the realization that being the oldest meant that I had to set an example for my sister, I had to give her something to follow. “She will look up to you one day,” my dad would say. This made me feel like I had a responsibility.

I have two brothers and two sisters now. My youngest sibling turned one this week. Since they’re all really close in age, I am constantly hearing arguing, and mostly over things that don’t make sense. It’s always phrases such as “that’s mine,” “you broke it,” and “I didn’t do it” that never fail to surface my home. Just last year my little sister tried to burn my brothers car by putting it in the microwave because she was mad at him. This just comes to show the chaotic environment I live in. With so many children I find that I’m always cleaning up their messes with my mom. Spills are a common thing in my home, when juice is flowing on the floor I just get the mop and don’t even worry about who did it anymore. Writing on the walls is something that can be frustrating just because of how difficult it is to remove.

An interesting thing I’ve noticed is how my eleven year old sister gets annoyed when my mom asks her to watch the baby for nothing more than five minutes. She’s realizing that my mom is now starting to depend on her to watch the baby while she cooks just like how she depended on me when my sister was born. I view it as a cycle, almost as if I passed the torch down to my sister.

Being the oldest of four has resulted in me driving my mom and siblings everywhere. Since my mom can’t drive, I pick up my sister from student council, if she wants to go over a friend’s house, I am the one who drops her off and picks her up. I even go grocery shopping because of how tired my dad is when he gets back from work.

I always joke around with my mom and tell her that our house is a daycare, there’s tons of chaos and all involving kids. I’d take my madhouse over what was a ghost town any day. Although we might argue sometimes, there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for my family.

 

Jocelyn Rivas

I definitely felt your excitement, from the anxious wait to finally meeting your new siblings. Your descriptions are very vivid when it comes to the house. It reminds me of a tour at the museum, where everything is unfamiliar yet thrilling to see for the first time.

I like how you went into small details such as the “small juice stain on the white rug.” I could personally relate to your essay, especially at the end of the second paragraph where you state how much you wanted a sister.

In the first paragraph you mention that home never felt like home. I think it’d be helpful if you gave an example of what was missing in the home, why did you feel so empty? Was it just the constant moving?

In the second paragraph, you described both the dining and living room as “cute.” I think if you go into a little more detail as to what it is that makes the dining and living room appealing, your essay would be stronger.

Overall, the memoir flowed well and wasn’t difficult to read. The order in which you placed things made sense. It’s very clear how much your sister and home mean to you.

Towards the end you mentioned that your sister became a “built in best friend.” I think it would help if you give an example of a moment you bonded with her, maybe a scene playing with the Barbie dolls you were so excited to see.

At the end you could also add a really powerful sentence like “I’ve lived in many houses but there’s only one I’ve had the chance to call home.” A sentence along those lines could be made into its own paragraph to further emphasize the emotional attachment you have to it.

 

Jocelyn Rivas

 

There I was with my mom, sitting on the living room carpet, each of us holding a doll in our hands. We were pretending that they were going to a party together, it would be held in the dining room, although in my head it was at a much fancier place, perhaps one with a massive chandelier in the middle of the ceiling. I was an only child for seven years and whenever I played as a little kid it was almost always with my mom. I didn’t have a sibling to play with me so I constantly found that the one person entertaining me was my mom, someone four times my age. At least she made an effort to make me happy by going along with my scenarios, she appeared to have fun every time but it sometimes crossed my mind that maybe she wasn’t. What adult wants to play pretend on their free time?

 

*****************************************************************************

 

I was outside, jump roping with my cousin at her house when I saw the white truck. It was time. My dad was bringing me to the hospital to see my newborn sister. I had wanted a sibling for as long as I could remember.

 

We went home first, my dad was going to get clothes ready for my mom, she was getting out of the hospital in two days and she wasn’t going to leave in the hospital gown she was given. We also went home for another reason, my dad wanted me to change and look presentable. I was too excited and that wasn’t going to happen, I thought it would just slow us down and I wanted to get the the hospital as soon as possible. I just wanted to leave already. I didn’t end up changing. I went with blue jeans that fit me too big, a pink short sleeve and my hair, that was the worse part, I hadn’t even done it. My hair was all over the place, strands falling in my face almost, yet I somehow managed to keep it in a hair tie. I didn’t care about how I looked.

 

Finally, we were in the truck. I thought, how long does it really take to put a shirt and pants in a  bag for mom to change? “Did you see her? How does she look?” I kept asking questions the entire car ride, I’m surprised my dad didn’t seem to be getting sick of them, although he probably was.

 

Oh no, another stop. Flowers! How dare we show up without flowers! We went to stop and shop and my dad told me to pick out a bouquet of roses for her. I had a hard time choosing, I relied heavily on the colors they had when coming to a decision. I chose the bouquet with red and yellow roses. “Those” I told my dad.

 

We’re here, going up the elevator, and before I know it, I was pushing the white door open and saw  my mom laying on the bed. I gave her the flowers and immediately, almost urgently, ask about my sister. “She’s with the nurse,” she says. Of course she is I think. Time starts to pass by slowly and then I realize something, I haven’t really spent time with both of my parents, my dad works long shifts and by the time he usually gets home, I am asleep. Yet here we are, together at the hospital. The door opens again, the nurse walks in, pushing the baby in what to me appears to be a white bin, but is actually similar to a crib. There she is, asleep and so beautiful. She was bundled up in a white blanket that had a blue and red stripe on it. She had a hat with thick pink and purple stripes on it, with a pom pom on it. It was the beginning of July I wondered why they put a hat on her.

 

*****************************************************************************

 

I have two brothers and two sisters now. My youngest sibling is only eleven months. Before, the family dynamic wasn’t anywhere near as loud and crazy as it is now. Before, I would come home from school to a quiet atmosphere and now it’s completely insane. I always joke around with my mom and tell her that our house is a daycare, there’s tons of chaos and all involving kids. Everyday there are fights between them, always over something that doesn’t make sense. With so many children I find that I’m always cleaning up their messes with my mom. I’d take my madhouse over what was a ghost town any day. Although we might argue sometimes, there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for my family.

 

Jocelyn Rivas

Descriptive sentences:

1. The tranquil waters of the ocean reside in my hometown, you can always see people walking to corner stores or nearby parks with their family but most importantly, people who lived in the community never failed to flash a smile.
2. Laci wore silver six inch heels that were covered in gems, yellow glasses that were pointy at the ends and a pink puffy dress that was covered in sparkles but to top off her style, she waved a hand fan in front of her face that swiftly moved her bright red hair.
3. Mr. Brown doesn’t even teach the class, he just sits behind his desk while drinking coffee and shouts demands at us, he gives an unreasonable amount of homework that he never ends up grading, the most he does is take attendance.
4. It was difficult to walk in the room considering the fact that clothes and shoes were everywhere, making the floor barely visible, the bed wasn’t made,  even the door was broken.

Scene:

She ran frantically under the heat of the sun upon the sight of the big dog chasing after her. Her younger sister was right behind her, tired yet running, trying to catch up. The older sister was thinking “why am I running, I’m only making things worse” as they continued stomping on the cement and stopped when they ran up a random house’s stairs. The dog was barking loudly near the older sister’s leg, she was saying to herself “its going to bite me.” It is no surprise that the younger sister was hiding behind the older sister out of fear. They were both panicking but it isn’t until then that they heard the word that saved the day, the owner shouting the dog’s name.