Through the Eyes of a Tiger         Looking patronise a a couple of(prenominal) socio-economic classs, I remember my send-off convocation twenty-four hour period at The Westridge discipline for Girls. Four hundred girls in dresses that much fit nurses uniforms (except for the curly, spurt W on the right breast pocket) troop into the gymnasium. fairly soon all I fuck control are rows and rows of girls seated on the bleachers, as small as quartern graders and as old as seniors. The headmistress welcomes us to just about some other year of continuing the tradition of a fine womens education. instantly the time arrives to sing the discipline song. As soon as the mass of girls rise to sing I enjoy that I am glad to be a take a break away of this community. some of my peers were here last year in fourth, and they already strickle the sack the simple tune to Surgere Tentamus. Since this is my first year and I dont know the words, I stand shyly in my dress, nervously wiggling my toes in my new, stiff saddle shoes. By the next year those hardly a(prenominal) bars of music are a part of me and to this day I often sing them to myself. Surgere Tentamus translated from Latin promoter we filter out to rise. I feel that even in todays liberated human women still need to learn that unless they distort to rise they can be easily overshadowed by their anthropoid counterparts.
Becoming educate at an all girls school is a simple say to the often perplexing problem of competing with potent dominance in our society. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Clearly, l am an example of why any one-year-old woman should spend at lea! st part of her school day in single sex education. I am and forever will be a Westridge tiger. Tigers were the school mascot at Westridge, where I attended fifth through tenth... If you postulate to get a full essay, order it on our website:
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