Jenny, a well-rounded teenage girl, looks in the mirror.  Her eyes scan the image of a muddy-skinned body looking back at her.  As she stares at the reflection across from her, anger and hatred begins to unfurl inside (infinitive phrase).  Later that night Jenny locks herself in the bathroom.  Her haunting reflection (participle) still beating inside her head, she fearlessly pours Clorox bleach into the bathtub.  Tiptoeing into the toxic waters, Jenny imagines her skill whitening by the second.  Her burning body (participle) bleeds out the ugliness painted on her.  But Jenny is calm and endures the pain.

Shockingly, Jenny is not the only person who has tried to dangerously alter her appearance (adjective clause) to fit the standards of daily society (infinitive phrase).  Plastic surgery is becoming an addiction in today’s world due to the demand for “beauty.”  These procedures are a risky way to become one step closer (infinitive phrase) to achieving physical perfection.  In America in 2007, 5.4 million liposuction procedures occurred in people between the ages of 35 and 50 years.  When people look at today’s Hollywood stars (adverb clause), they may come to the conclusion that being stick-skinny, looking as young as possible, and seeking perfection are the ingredients for a perfect life.  This may be the world’s motivation for changing their appearance in return for a risk of heart attack, nerve damage, brain damage, or even death.

While reading the novel The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison, it is hard not to notice (infinitive) that Pecola, the main character, was searching for beauty (noun clause beginning with that), just as women do today.  Pecola, a poor black girl, struggles throughout the book to find her inner beauty when no one else believes that she is beautiful.  When she was writing The Bluest Eye (adverb clause), Toni Morrison was subconsiously conveying today’s world as a place of personal judgment and discrimination due to appearances.  Naturally as human beings, everyone wants to fit in with the crowd.  But when people feel differently than others, people will go to great measures to change themselves in order to be perceived as beautiful (infinitive phrase).

In today’s society, to reach beauty (infinitive phrase), a person must follow the trends created by the media.  On the top of the list for these trends are eating disorders.  Eating (participle) disorders can range from bulimia and binge eating to anorexia and compulsive eating.  With an approximate six billion people in the world, about ten million of these people are suffering from some type of eating disorder.  Statistics indicate that about one in every one hundred teenage girls may develop an eating disorder (noun clause).  Eating (gerund) is an essential part of human life, but today it has become a burden.  Who is to blame the teenage girls who see Britney Spears and Mary Kate Olson starving themselves (adjective clause)?  Once role models of the current teenage population, these stars portray that not eating for a week in order to lose five pounds is perfectly normal.  Being skinny is just another requirement for being beautiful in today’s world.  Why would a person endanger his or her health for acceptance in society?  Ask Pecola and Jenny, for they believe that acceptance is the ultimate beauty.

Whether it is anorexia, a nose job, or Clorox bleach, the message is the same.  Beauty is just the appearance and image on the outside.  Who is to say that being beautiful is not reflected by a person’s personality and values?  Just because a magazine illustrates beauty as one-hundred pounds skinny, does not make it cold, hard fact.  If only Jenny, Pecola and others who do not fit within the standard of daily society knew that beauty is not measured by what is on the outside, but rather what is on the inside, the world would be a more “beautiful” place.

For this assignment, Tali was asked to write a persuasive essay about the image of beauty in the media as related to Toni Morrison’s novel, The Bluest Eye.  In addition, she had to demonstrate her awareness of and successful application of grammatical concepts we learned, including verbals (participles, infinitives, gerunds), clauses (noun clauses, adjective clauses, adverb clauses), misplaced and dangling modifiers (not to have any), and active/passive voice (to use active).  Tali went beyond the requirements of the assignment, demonstrating a formidable facility with the language as well as articulate, interesting, well-developed ideas about the topic.  Kudos to Tali!  ~Mrs. Huff

O this day is filled with a disappointing sense as by the hour of nine both Juliet and her Romeo were found dead.  Romeo, there dead, was husband to that Juliet; and she, there dead, that Romeo’s faithful wife.  How could a day bring more woe than to see Romeo who doth kill himself over Juliet?  Romeo lay there dead while Juliet woke up from her deep sleep.  Then seeing dead Romeo, she took a knife and stabbed herself.  If only Friar Lawrence had delivered the news of Juliet’s sleeping would they not be dead now.  Why, if only the parents of these two innocent teens were not so harsh would they not be dead.  If only Tybalt had not been slain would these two not rest in peace.  “A glooming peace this morning with it brings; the sun, for sorrow, will not show his head: go hence, to have more talk of these sad things; some shall be pardon’d, and some punished: for never was a story of more woe than this of Juliet and her Romeo.”

Prince Escalus

Dear Diary,

I cannot seem to grasp all the drama that has occurred within the past few hours.  Romeo… all along it was Romeo.  When we thought she was dead in her bed that morning, she was not.  She drank a sleeping potion that put her fast asleep for 42 hours so she could avoid marrying Paris and trick us into thinking she was actually dead.  But now she is dead!

Romeo was Juliet’s husband, and Juliet was Romeo’s faithful wife.  Friar Lawrence married them on the day of Tybalt’s death.  Juliet was sad because Romeo was banished, not because of her own cousin’s death.  Because we thought she was upset over Tybalt’s decease, we arranged for her to marry County Paris.  Is it my fault because I pressured her into doing something she was not ready for?!  Because I did this, is this a sign that warns my old age against a sepulchre?  O me!  If only we were patient.

She went to Friar Lawrence’s cell not to confess because she had made her father angry but to devise a plan with the Holy Friar to get her out of the second marriage.  If he hadn’t helped her, she would’ve killed herself.  But that wouldn’t have made a difference now, would it?  He gave her a sleeping potion, and the scheme worked as planned — we all thought she was dead.  Friar Lawrence wrote a letter to Romeo explaining what Juliet had done and that Romeo would take her out of our tomb when the potion wore off.  Unfortunately, the deliverer of the message, Friar John, did not reach Romeo in time to give him the message.  One thing led to another, and that’s when Friar Lawrence saw Paris and Romeo dead in the tomb, just minutes before Juliet woke up.  When Juliet saw her husband Romeo lying dead next to her, her heart began to tremble and she too killed herself with a dagger.

The nurse knew about Romeo and Juliet’s secret marriage and even helped send Romeo messages from Juliet.  I trusted the nurse with every last bit of myself, and this is what she does?  As my husband told our enemy, “O brother Montague, give me thy hand.  This is my daughter’s jointure, for no more can I demand.”  There is nothing that can be done now, and I cannot ask for anything.  Juliet and her Romeo will be buried together, side by side.  Not even death will break them apart.  Their hearts will live forever.  As for mine, it has just been destroyed and will never be able to rebuild itself again.

This is the last time,

Lady Capulet

Dear Diary,

Friar John just left my quarters. Apparently, and “infectious pestilence did reign” (V, ii, 10), and he was not able to get into Mantua. When I yelled at him for not getting the message to Mantua, he was surprised I was angry. I must not have stressed the importance of the message to him. I told him to take the message to Romeo immediately. My only hope is that Romeo does not believe his beloved wife is dead. If he found out she was dead, he would be devastated and that could turn him suicidal. I have to leave so I am there when Juliet awakens from her slumber.

Signed,

Friar Lawrence

Diary,

Words that I wished never to be spoken have been uttered out of my servant’s mouth!  Juliet is dead! My heart has been ripped out of my chest, giving me not a reason to live.  “Is it e’en so?  Then I defy you, stars!  Thou knowest my lodging.  Get me ink and paper and hire post horses.  I will hence tonight” (V.i.24).  I said those words to my servant as I packed to go back home to see my lover’s face for the last time on earth, for we will love again, but in heaven where no one can separate us!  I bought some poison from an apothecary, and I headed off to the Capels’ monument, where my love lies cold.  This is the last time I will be writing you.  I hope someone finds this journal someday and sees how love can change your life in the blink of an eye for better or for worse.

Romeo

Dear Diary,

O, another lamentable day!  O, me!  O, me!  Juliet is dead!  Oh, Juliet, I must die with thee!  Alack the day!  O woeful time!  “Accursed, unhappy, wretched, hateful day!  Most miserable hour that e’er time saw in lasting labor of his pilgrimage.  But one, poor one, one poor and loving child, but one thing to rejoice and solace in, and cruel death hath catched it from my sight!”  This is what I screamed when I first laid eyes on my Juliet.  There she was… just lying on her bed as if she were sleeping… on the day of her wedding.  She didn’t wake, and she never will again.  I do not even know how I have the strength to pick up this very pen.  There is a hole in my heart with bitter sorrow traveling its way through.  My soul and heart will never heal again because they are with my daughter.  I am too distraught to keep writing.

Respectfully,

Lady Capulet

Dearest Susan,

Today is by far the most lamentable day of my life!  Juliet is d-d-d-d-d-d– I can’t even write it!  Let me take in some aqua vitae first.  Okay.  Juliet is dead, deceased, gone!  I have the same knot in my stomach as I felt the minute I heard the lamentable news about Tybalt.  But unlike the knot I had after that, this knot won’t stop growing.  I feel as if swords are thrusting into my stomach right now.  I can’t explain this feeling; my heart is pounding faster than a trotting horse, trotting to his paramount ability.  I can’t believe it.  Oh, Susan, what have I ever done to deserve this luck that Jesus has given me?  First I lose you, then Tybalt, and now Juliet?  “Why?” is all I simply ask.  Hopefully things will eventually make sense.  I don’t understand any of this.  Juliet has just died of grief over Tybalt, and now I wish there was a simple way out for me — to escape all of this!  The only answer would be suicide, but I do not believe in that.  Jesus puts us here on Earth to complete a purpose.  I am going to try as hard as I can to believe that Susan, Tybalt, and Juliet had completed their purpose and are living peacefully in heaven.  I still can’t believe all of this!  I need to sit down, drink some aqua vitae, and relax.  Thank you for your help.  May these memories both joyful and heartbreaking remain with you forever.

~Angelica

[Note: Erica has also chosen to address her diary, written by the nurse, to the nurse's deceased daughter Susan.  Also, she has used context clues to discover the nurse's name is most likely Angelica.]

Dearest Diary,

I have been upset for days because of Romeo.  My parents believe that it is actually because of Tybalt’s death, but I could never tell them the truth.  Not only have I been devastated, but my father is making me marry Paris!  My mother told me, “Marry, my child, early next Thursday morn, the gallant, young, and noble gentleman, the County Paris” would be my husband (III.v.113-115).  I have never dreamt about marrying Paris.  I do not love him, and I never will, but Paris does not understand.  He thinks, “That ‘may be’ must be, love on Thursday next” (IV.i.20).  I am so desperate that I will do anything to get out of this marital agreement, so I talked to Friar Lawrence, and we have decided on a plan.  He has given me this special potion that will knock me unconscious (after I drink it) and should last for a couple of days.  After I drink this potion, people will think that I am dead; so therefore, I will not have to marry Paris.  There are many ideas rushing through my head right now, like the potion may not work, the potion could kill me, or I could be left among my dead relatives.  I know that there are many risks, but I must do this to be with my love, Romeo.  Either way, I need to do this.  I hope that this decision will turn out to be the right one.

Sincerely,

Juliet

Dear Diary,

My dear daughter is upset about her cousin’s death, so, to cheer her up, I rushed the wedding to this Thursday.  But when I told her this, she was very aggravating.  I was so mad that I threatened to cut her off.  “For by my soul, I’ll ne’er acknowledge thee, nor what is mine shall ever do thee good.”  She wanted to go against my will!  I am the father and have absolute authority over my family.  I told her to go see Friar Lawrence, and maybe he can give her good advice.  I knew he would, and he did.  She came back from the Friar’s more calm and was happy to get married to Paris.  I knew my plan would work.  I wonder what the Friar told her to change her mind.

Capulet

Dear Diary,

Juliet has just left my church.  She was very nervous because she believes she is going to have to marry Paris.  She loves Romeo dearly and would be sinning if she married Paris without getting an annulment of her marriage to Romeo.  I cannot marry Paris and Juliet because it is a sin to be an accomplice of a sinner.  Juliet threatened to kill herself in my presence, but I quickly thought of a way to get her out of the marriage to Paris.  I gave her this potion that I made from a plant in my garden.  The potion makes a person fall asleep.  The amount I gave her should enable her to sleep for about forty-two hours.  She will seem dead to everyone who is not knowledgeable of this stunt.  According to her family’s customs, she will be buried within twenty-four hours.  The following night, I will sneak in and get her from the tomb.  She will then be able to sneak off with Romeo to Mantua.  The plan is flawless and will work perfectly.  I just have to make sure that Romeo gets my message before the funeral.  There is a knock at my door; it is probably Friar John.

Signed,

Friar Lawrence

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