Sunday March 13, 2:19 pm
"Hello."
"Dennis?"
"No, I'm sorry, you have the wrong number."
"Oh I'm sorry, have a nice day."
"No problem, you too."
Me gusta esta pintura de Joan Miró porque que puede ser interpretado de muchas fue. Los colores son oscuros excepto el azul. El azul pero crea un lado más ligero al mismo. Hay muchos elementos que pueden representar a una persona cuando se mira en él, la imaginación y realidad en ella está muy bien pensado.
The Board of Trustees of The Franklin Institute is offering a $5,000.00 Franklin Institute Board of Trustee (FIBOT) Scholarship, renewable once, (to total $10,000.00) for outstanding Science Leadership Academy Class of 2011 students matriculating college and pursuing a career in Science, Technology, Engineering, or Mathematics (STEM).
The Board of Trustees anticipates awarding multiple scholarships each year. The requirements for the scholarship are:
Minimum 3.0 High School GPA
SAT Score
Two Letters of Recommendation
Primary Letter of Recommentation from a Teacher/Senior SLA Administrator
Secondary Letter of Recommendation from a Non-SLA individual
Declared STEM major for application
Personal statement addressing the question:
"What is your career in the STEM field going to look like in the future?".
The deadline to apply is May 1, 2011.
I hated that life style, but at least I had a place to stay and food to eat – a thought process I thought was very mature for my age. That was, at least, until I went to Mr. and Mrs. Walker. They came off as very nice people, but the actual experience was much different. I was probably about 4 at this time – blissfully ignorant to the world. I didn’t know what exactly to expect, but these people – these people that were entrusted with a child’s life, often forgot to – or neglected to comply with the bare minimum to satisfy a good quality of life for a child. I would sometimes go for days without eating, and if I acted out of line, I would get beaten. And when I say “out of line”, I don’t mean stealing or taking their car for a joyride. I was, after all, only four years old. I would get beaten for merely crying when they had guests over – not in front of them obviously, they were particularly careful about giving the wrong impression to the public. When we went to the market, for instance, we would act as a perfect family. Unless, of course, I would do something that embarrassed them in public, oh yeah, I would pay for that later. They would ensure that I would learn my lesson when I got home. Sometimes they would even take turns beating me, as if they got some twisted pleasure from beating a child.