AIDS (acquired immune deficiency syndrome) is the final stage of HIV disease, which causes severe damage to the immune system.
AIDS and HIV has puzzled scientists ever since the illness first came in the early 1980s. Over the last twenty years there have been countless arguments as to how the virus started. Everything from a promiscuous flight attendant to a suspicious vaccine program. The first documented case of AIDS was in 1981 and since then the HIV (human immunodeficiency virus) has spread worldwide. Over 22 million people worldwide have died of AIDS and there are approximately 40 million people living with HIV worldwide.
Friday, August 6, 2010
Anotation
Works Cited
"AIDS." New York Times [New York, NY] 28 July 2010. Keyword: AIDS.
Dr Mariel Del Rio Cadorette MD Infectious Disease. 04 Aug. 2010.
HIV InSite Gateway to HIV and AIDS Knowledge. 06 Aug. 2010.
"Origin of HIV/AIDS." AIDS & HIV information from the AIDS charity AVERT. 06 Aug. 2010
WebMD - Better information. Better health. 28 May 2003. 06 Aug. 2010.
"AIDS." New York Times [New York, NY] 28 July 2010. Keyword: AIDS.
Dr Mariel Del Rio Cadorette MD Infectious Disease. 04 Aug. 2010.
HIV InSite Gateway to HIV and AIDS Knowledge. 06 Aug. 2010
"Origin of HIV/AIDS." AIDS & HIV information from the AIDS charity AVERT. 06 Aug. 2010
WebMD - Better information. Better health. 28 May 2003. 06 Aug. 2010
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Summary
All Joy and No Fun
Why parents hate parenting.
By Jennifer Senior
The author Jennifer Senior begins her story telling the reader she finds her two year old son waiting for her on her building doorstep. Her son runs to her from his babysitter arms and she feels an in expressible loveliness. This is a scene that she has played in her mind before she has actually had a child.
The reality is she walks into a chaotic apartment avoiding getting hit with blocks by her son that ends in a timeout. Senior thinks of a friend once telling her about the Children’s Museum in Manhattan how it was a great place but really needed a bar. The author thought that rude but she could say that for her apartment at that moment. She felt like some parents feel at some point of parenting.
The author states the parents with children are not any happier then their childless peers. The more children the less happy parents were. Single parents were the least happy.
Times have changed today as far as parenting goes. Generations ago people didn’t think about whether having children would make them happy they just did it. In today’s society people have the choice to have children or not and as many as they want. That may be the reason why parents are less happy. Parents who made more money and had children later were less satisfied being parents.
The Author makes a good point about European countries. Senior noticed the countries with stronger welfare system produced more children and happier parents. Parents are happier in these countries because the have a year of paid maternity leave and day care is paid for when they do go back to work. Education and health care for children are paid for. Therefore a parent’s mental health will improve making parents happier. In the United States things are different and that could be a reason parents are unhappy parents.
Children can provide moments of joy and also can make parents frustrated. The author mentions parents always remember the negative moments but what about the good moments? With children moments of happiness come and go. Therefore the author points out is happiness what you experience or state of mind?
Parenting is difficult and can make parents unhappy at times. But there will come a day parents will look back at moments they thought to be unhappy and unpleasant and appreciate those moments in time in retrospect.
Why parents hate parenting.
By Jennifer Senior
The author Jennifer Senior begins her story telling the reader she finds her two year old son waiting for her on her building doorstep. Her son runs to her from his babysitter arms and she feels an in expressible loveliness. This is a scene that she has played in her mind before she has actually had a child.
The reality is she walks into a chaotic apartment avoiding getting hit with blocks by her son that ends in a timeout. Senior thinks of a friend once telling her about the Children’s Museum in Manhattan how it was a great place but really needed a bar. The author thought that rude but she could say that for her apartment at that moment. She felt like some parents feel at some point of parenting.
The author states the parents with children are not any happier then their childless peers. The more children the less happy parents were. Single parents were the least happy.
Times have changed today as far as parenting goes. Generations ago people didn’t think about whether having children would make them happy they just did it. In today’s society people have the choice to have children or not and as many as they want. That may be the reason why parents are less happy. Parents who made more money and had children later were less satisfied being parents.
The Author makes a good point about European countries. Senior noticed the countries with stronger welfare system produced more children and happier parents. Parents are happier in these countries because the have a year of paid maternity leave and day care is paid for when they do go back to work. Education and health care for children are paid for. Therefore a parent’s mental health will improve making parents happier. In the United States things are different and that could be a reason parents are unhappy parents.
Children can provide moments of joy and also can make parents frustrated. The author mentions parents always remember the negative moments but what about the good moments? With children moments of happiness come and go. Therefore the author points out is happiness what you experience or state of mind?
Parenting is difficult and can make parents unhappy at times. But there will come a day parents will look back at moments they thought to be unhappy and unpleasant and appreciate those moments in time in retrospect.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Annotation
Here are some questions that come to my mind:
Who can get Aids?
How do we get Aids?
Does Aids Discriminate?
Who is at highest risk?
Is there a cure for Aids?
What kind of drugs are out there to have people live a much more productive life?
Is Aids just predominately in Africa? (I mention this because I have a written article)
What is the percentage of people living with Aids?
What can we do to prevent the spread?
Is it ok for a couple who are both diagnosed with HIV/Aids to have unprotected sex ?
Friday, July 16, 2010
Sentence of the Week
“Words mean more than what is set down on paper. It takes the human voice to infuse them with shades of deeper meaning.”
Maya Angelou
Maya Angelou
Friday, July 9, 2010
Ethnography Rough Draft
The Holy Ghost Society
It was a hot June afternoon as we watched the Holy Ghost procession. People were dressed in their Sunday best. As the procession ended we the bystanders followed for a traditional lunch of sopa de hortelã com carne e pão “mint soup with beef and bread”.
Tony his wife Ana and their son Evan frequent these traditional lunches on most Sundays throughout the summer. Though this Portuguese tradition is supposed to be held on the church calendar, homage to the Holy Ghost is paid on Pentecost, the seventh Sunday after Easter. Another tradition of this feast is the auction and the chosen seven names for next years Holy Ghost procession. My good friend Tony always wanted to part of this society. He decided to put his name in along with the many others. Seven people were picked and he was one of the winners. As I watched each winner they all had something in common, they were honored to be selected. I was told that out of the names that were not selected they must be prepared to contribute to the next year auction.
The seven selected sponsors of the society have a year to prepare for this annual tradition. They will need fabrics, flowers and religious relics to decorate a space in there home for the Holy Ghost crown. Each sponsor will keep the crown in their home for a week where people will gather to pray and sing. My friend Tony had to decide who to ask to walk with him and his family in the procession. He asked some friends and me and my six year old daughter. I accepted and was excited to be part of an experience I grew up watching and attending with my late grandfather.
After much preparation the time finally comes for the journey of the Holy Ghost crown to go from home to home for seven weeks. The sponsor is obliged to hold open house in the designated week. My friend Tony and his family have the crown on the quinta semana “fifth week”. Tony has the crown for seven days. I was invited to pray and sing with him and his family and friends. My friend decorated the room with the crown beautifully. He used white satin fabric, with white lights, beautiful red roses and of course the crown. It was very similar to what I had seen in other homes. Once everyone arrived we sang and prayed in our native Portuguese language. All was welcome to my friend’s home to rejoice this ritual. After we finished we sat down to a feast made by Tony’s wife Ana. For seven days this occurred in their home.
On the seventh Sunday it was the day of the procession and the feast of the Holy Ghost. All of the seven winners from the year prior are all gathered together with family and friends. As I sit and observe all are dressed formally men, women and children. The little girls all looked like princesses dressed in there white long gowns. From there we all hopped on a bus to attend service. When service ended each week held a banner representing there week with family and friends and walked the procession. The end of the procession was at the feast grounds for the traditional lunch. The procession was the first to be served the delicious lunch. There were long lines after us because all were welcome and there was no charge to eat.
After I finished eating my lunch I started talking to a young girl who sat across from me. This young girl tells me the story as she knows it of the Holy Ghost. Legend has it Queen Isabel of Portugal was giving away the wealth of the court to the poor. During a great famine she prayed to the Holy Ghost for food and promised her crown to the church in return. Her prayers were answered. Legend or truth I was intrigued by this young girl’s story. I finally got the meaning of the “Holy Ghost Crown”
It was a hot June afternoon as we watched the Holy Ghost procession. People were dressed in their Sunday best. As the procession ended we the bystanders followed for a traditional lunch of sopa de hortelã com carne e pão “mint soup with beef and bread”.
Tony his wife Ana and their son Evan frequent these traditional lunches on most Sundays throughout the summer. Though this Portuguese tradition is supposed to be held on the church calendar, homage to the Holy Ghost is paid on Pentecost, the seventh Sunday after Easter. Another tradition of this feast is the auction and the chosen seven names for next years Holy Ghost procession. My good friend Tony always wanted to part of this society. He decided to put his name in along with the many others. Seven people were picked and he was one of the winners. As I watched each winner they all had something in common, they were honored to be selected. I was told that out of the names that were not selected they must be prepared to contribute to the next year auction.
The seven selected sponsors of the society have a year to prepare for this annual tradition. They will need fabrics, flowers and religious relics to decorate a space in there home for the Holy Ghost crown. Each sponsor will keep the crown in their home for a week where people will gather to pray and sing. My friend Tony had to decide who to ask to walk with him and his family in the procession. He asked some friends and me and my six year old daughter. I accepted and was excited to be part of an experience I grew up watching and attending with my late grandfather.
After much preparation the time finally comes for the journey of the Holy Ghost crown to go from home to home for seven weeks. The sponsor is obliged to hold open house in the designated week. My friend Tony and his family have the crown on the quinta semana “fifth week”. Tony has the crown for seven days. I was invited to pray and sing with him and his family and friends. My friend decorated the room with the crown beautifully. He used white satin fabric, with white lights, beautiful red roses and of course the crown. It was very similar to what I had seen in other homes. Once everyone arrived we sang and prayed in our native Portuguese language. All was welcome to my friend’s home to rejoice this ritual. After we finished we sat down to a feast made by Tony’s wife Ana. For seven days this occurred in their home.
On the seventh Sunday it was the day of the procession and the feast of the Holy Ghost. All of the seven winners from the year prior are all gathered together with family and friends. As I sit and observe all are dressed formally men, women and children. The little girls all looked like princesses dressed in there white long gowns. From there we all hopped on a bus to attend service. When service ended each week held a banner representing there week with family and friends and walked the procession. The end of the procession was at the feast grounds for the traditional lunch. The procession was the first to be served the delicious lunch. There were long lines after us because all were welcome and there was no charge to eat.
After I finished eating my lunch I started talking to a young girl who sat across from me. This young girl tells me the story as she knows it of the Holy Ghost. Legend has it Queen Isabel of Portugal was giving away the wealth of the court to the poor. During a great famine she prayed to the Holy Ghost for food and promised her crown to the church in return. Her prayers were answered. Legend or truth I was intrigued by this young girl’s story. I finally got the meaning of the “Holy Ghost Crown”
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Savoring the sentence
"It is hard to fail, but it's worse to never have tried to succeed."-Theodore Roosevelt
This sentence holds true to me because for many years I have feared failing college but I am here now getting over my fear.
This sentence holds true to me because for many years I have feared failing college but I am here now getting over my fear.
Monday, June 21, 2010
My Personal Essay Rough Draft
Living with an alcoholic parent was very difficult as a child. I never felt loved or love from the man who was my father. There were many arguments in my home and we never knew when an argument would occur. Thoughts of suicide was on mind constantly as a teenager I just wanted to die and escape the hell I lived in. The teenage years seemed to be the worst that I can remember he was out to sabotage me and the person I was. Mental abuse was his form of torturing me and making me feel I was not worth anything more then a piece of trash.
Childhood memories are not very fond ones. The man I called Daddy was just a sperm donor who made me. He never once told me he loved me or gave me any affection. Love was never shown between my parents, their marriage was one without love therefore it projected on to their children. Their marriage was not meant to happen however my mother was forced to marry by her father. They both created children out of no love just purely sex. My heart tells my father never wanted children however they had two. I was the first born child and he has always hated me up until today.
Living with an alcoholic father was very unpredictable as a child and teenager. We never knew when he would walk in the door drunk,constantly in fear every night of what may happen. No matter what hour of the night, school night or not we would be awoken from a dead sleep with him screaming at our mother or her yelling for help in fear he may hit her. Hitting was not common from my father however it happened occasionally. He was mentally abusive towards our mother and would call her very nasty curse words he could think of. His curse words were a projection of who he was towards our mother. There were so many times we would have to jump out our window or drive all night and sleep in our mothers car to have peace and quiet and wait until he passed out from his drunken stupor. Our mother did her best to protect us by trying to keep us out of the house as much as possible.
Suicide ran through my thoughts often as a teenager. Death was my escape I thought at that time to escape the turmoil in my family. Though the thoughts of suicide ran through my mind I could really never go through with it because of my Catholic upbringing it was a sin to commit suicide therefore I would rot in the flames of hell. Often I would be dramatic and let my father think I swallowed a handful of pills to see if he really cared and stop me, he never did. The way I coped with with emotional pain was through mutilation, cutting myself. It was a shameful secret I never revealed to anyone until recently.
High school was very difficult he was out to make me out to be a bad unruly daughter. Many times the guidance counselor would call me into her office to tell me how my father would call to complain about me that I was a bad daughter, little do they know he was the bad alcoholic father, I never told out of shame. There where a few incidents that were mentally abusive, for instant making me throw out my favorite jeans at the dump, hiding all my clothes so I would not go to school and the one that bothered me the most was him making me believe he took my high school sweethearts football jersey, made me go crazy looking for it while he had it the whole time. Many more thing occurred however it would be too much to tell.
This experience was hard going through as a child, there are worse scenarios out there however this experience was painful for me and as effected me until this day. They say as the child of an alcoholic parent you either become an alcoholic yourself or you gravitate towards men like your father. Though I have not become an alcoholic I still meet men like my father as much as I hate him. I struggle with this till this day with men and am trying to overcome this traumatic experience in my life.
Childhood memories are not very fond ones. The man I called Daddy was just a sperm donor who made me. He never once told me he loved me or gave me any affection. Love was never shown between my parents, their marriage was one without love therefore it projected on to their children. Their marriage was not meant to happen however my mother was forced to marry by her father. They both created children out of no love just purely sex. My heart tells my father never wanted children however they had two. I was the first born child and he has always hated me up until today.
Living with an alcoholic father was very unpredictable as a child and teenager. We never knew when he would walk in the door drunk,constantly in fear every night of what may happen. No matter what hour of the night, school night or not we would be awoken from a dead sleep with him screaming at our mother or her yelling for help in fear he may hit her. Hitting was not common from my father however it happened occasionally. He was mentally abusive towards our mother and would call her very nasty curse words he could think of. His curse words were a projection of who he was towards our mother. There were so many times we would have to jump out our window or drive all night and sleep in our mothers car to have peace and quiet and wait until he passed out from his drunken stupor. Our mother did her best to protect us by trying to keep us out of the house as much as possible.
Suicide ran through my thoughts often as a teenager. Death was my escape I thought at that time to escape the turmoil in my family. Though the thoughts of suicide ran through my mind I could really never go through with it because of my Catholic upbringing it was a sin to commit suicide therefore I would rot in the flames of hell. Often I would be dramatic and let my father think I swallowed a handful of pills to see if he really cared and stop me, he never did. The way I coped with with emotional pain was through mutilation, cutting myself. It was a shameful secret I never revealed to anyone until recently.
High school was very difficult he was out to make me out to be a bad unruly daughter. Many times the guidance counselor would call me into her office to tell me how my father would call to complain about me that I was a bad daughter, little do they know he was the bad alcoholic father, I never told out of shame. There where a few incidents that were mentally abusive, for instant making me throw out my favorite jeans at the dump, hiding all my clothes so I would not go to school and the one that bothered me the most was him making me believe he took my high school sweethearts football jersey, made me go crazy looking for it while he had it the whole time. Many more thing occurred however it would be too much to tell.
This experience was hard going through as a child, there are worse scenarios out there however this experience was painful for me and as effected me until this day. They say as the child of an alcoholic parent you either become an alcoholic yourself or you gravitate towards men like your father. Though I have not become an alcoholic I still meet men like my father as much as I hate him. I struggle with this till this day with men and am trying to overcome this traumatic experience in my life.
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