Education Gender and Single-sex School Works - 1256 Words

Single-Sex Schools A time comes in every young teen s life when he or she must decide where to attend high school. As they examine which high school they want to go to, one of the factors they may come across is whether to go to a single-sex school or a co-educational school. While co-ed schools allow students to develop socially, single-sex schools have the advantage in academic success. Single-sex schools provide a conducive learning environment for students, allow teachers to teach according to gender and learning differences, and develop students to have positive attitudes towards learning and academics as a whole. In every high school, whether single-sex or co-educational, a culture is created among the adolescents. In†¦show more content†¦The movement is natural to males as a result of low serotonin and high metabolism in their bodies. In fact, under certain circumstances stress has a beneficial effect on male learning (Mullins 4). In addition to academics, high school s develop students social ability. The way people interact with each other, especially the opposite sex, is very important in everyday life. While single-sex schools have the upper hand in academics, co-ed schools have an advantage in developing students socially. In the single sex schools prejudices about the opposite sex are usually promoted (Klein). The students who attended single-sex schools were often observed to treat members of the opposite sex with doubt and suspicion. Some single-sex schools do not provide a real-life atmosphere while co-ed schools do. There is a lack of social pressure in single-sex schools, which could cause students to develop slowly. This is one of the disadvantages of single-sex schools. Other disadvantages of single-sex schools make it harder for students who attend them to cope with the outside world. Many students who went to single-sex high schools have trouble mingling with the opposite sex. They do not experience working with mixed genders in h igh school and are not prepared enough to do once they graduate. The boys in single-sex schools are likely to be socialized into aggressive individuals and this may impact on their socialization with girls inShow MoreRelatedme me931 Words   |  4 Pagesï » ¿ No such thing as â€Å"Separate but Equal† in Education One of the most common question for parents when it comes to choosing high schools or college for their child is â€Å"Should girls and boys be taught separately, either in different classes or entirely differently schools, to improve their educational performances, or is such an approach a throwback to a teaching method that was discredited years ago† (Update: Single-Sex Education). In the past, it was more common for boys and girls to be educatedRead MoreSingle Sex Classes Should Not Be Incorporated Into Schools Essay1523 Words   |  7 PagesSingle-sex education consists of separating male and female students and teaching them in different schools or classes. Although controversial and often looked as antiquated, more Americans have been considering single-sex schools as a viable option since the early 2000’s. The reason? With various problems public school education faces, many parents have been looking at single-sex education as a potential solution to some of th ose problems. In addition, with the very convincing gender rhetoric thoseRead MoreSingle-Sex Education and Co-ed Education Essay1059 Words   |  5 PagesSingle-Sex Education and Coed Education. The single-sex format creates opportunities that do not exist in the coed classroom. (Edison 1) Researchers are unaware that both genders brains function differently. This lack of knowledge may be why the real truth about single-sex education being more efficient than co-ed education has not been discovered. Some say single-sex education may be the key for a brighter generation. It shows to improve test score dramatically. The number of public schools experimentingRead MoreSingle Sex Education : Single Gender Education1458 Words   |  6 PagesSingle-gender education has become more and more popular in the last few years. There are many people and organizations who like the idea and would like to continue it and other organizations that think single-sex education could make our school systems revert back to a time with gender inequalities. Single sex education breaks down gender stereotypes and in many cases limits distractions for a student in a classroom especially in a student’s teenage years. Opponents to single-gender education claimRead MoreSingle Sex Education Essay1416 Words   |  6 Pagesthe1990s, single-sex education gained interest over coeducation, and by the early 2000s, it had gained support from congress and the Bush administration. Since then single-sex education has benefitted many students, teachers, and parents. For all of the 1800s and most of 1900s coeducation had dominated schooling over the single-sex catholic and private schools.   Unfortunately, a Title IX provision was passed prohibiting sex discrimination, so that no person should be denied admission to any school on aRead MoreEssay about Staying Single: Sexually Segregated Schools1304 Words   |  6 PagesIn recent years, education in the United States has slowly decelerated when compared globally. Compared to students in other countries such as China or Germany, American students tend to slack when it comes to their studies. This concerns parents, who want their children to receive the best education offered. Single sex schools have proven to provide this need for a quality education. With only one percent of all schools in America sexually segregated (Whelan), the admissions process can be strenuous;Read MoreSingle Sex Education Essay964 Words   |  4 Pages Single-sex classrooms and schools are used in education all around the world. As a student who has never attended a single-sex school or classroom, I have always been curious to know how beneficial it really is. The controversy over single-sex classrooms and/or schools is an ongoing battle between educators, school systems, and the community. Those who support the idea of single-sex education argue that the separation of boys and girls due to biological differences can improve academic achievementRead MoreSingle-Gender Classrooms Essay1350 Words   |  6 Pagesstyles. Capitalizing on these differences could advance classroom performance. With on-going concerns about student success in school, any changes in the classroom that could increase student achievement should be considered. Recognizing the learning differences between boys and girls, one of the changes that could be instituted is single-gender classrooms. Single-gender classrooms would allow boys and girls to be instructed in a way that is conducive to them. Literature choices could be offeredRead MoreThe Debate Over Single Sex Schools958 Words   |  4 PagesThe debate over single-sex schools Single-sex schools are becoming more common. According to some religion reasons, several countries such as Saudi Arabia only have single-sex schools. However, the effect and rationality of single-sex schools are an ongoing controversy, that being debated in a worldwide range. In this essay, the cases for and against single-sex education will be discussed. This essay will firstly present some positive impacts of single-sex schools, including an increase in students’Read MoreDifferentiated Learning And Its Positive Effects On Gender1333 Words   |  6 PagesDifferentiated learning and its positive effects on gender When a couple becomes aware that they are waiting for a baby, they anticipate whether it is a boy or a girl. Because baby s gender will determine a lot of things, such as what color to paint baby s room, what kind of toys, and what color clothes to buy. After the newborn comes into the world, his or her gender plays an even more important role. Parents start to learn that boys love action, and are less fearful, while girls thrive on communicating

The Literary Offences Of Fenimore Cooper - 2047 Words

The definition of art has been debated time and time again, but there is still not a concrete line drawn between what is defined as art and what is not. However, there are certain works of art that set the example for what other works of art should contain. Specifically, according to Ernest Hemingway, an American author from the early twentieth century, â€Å"all modern American literature comes from one book by Mark Twain called Huckleberry Finn. American writing comes from that. There was nothing before. There has been nothing as good since†. In other words, Hemingway stated that Mark Twain had laid the foundation for modern American writers who strive to create works of art through literature. Twain directly refers to how a work of literature should constitute art in his essay â€Å"The Literary Offenses of Fenimore Cooper† where he criticizes Deerslayer for not reaching the requirements of literary art that Twain describes. He stresses the idea that everything in th e literary work should â€Å"accomplish something and arrive somewhere†, have correct and definite personage that makes sense, care about the characters in the story, and have proper diction. In Mark Twain’s The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, he successfully applies the appropriate aesthetic and literary values that he holds literature to in his essay on the violation of literary art in Fenimore Cooper’s Deerslayer through his purposeful portrayal of Huckleberry Finn and his endeavors. Mark Twain’s aesthetic and literaryShow MoreRelated Mark Twains Personality Revealed in His Writing Essay2171 Words   |  9 PagesMark Twains Personality Revealed in His Writing Literary artists refuse to be categorized, defined, and completely fathomed by any standardized paradigm, but a writers work exhibits his or her personality traits. Though authors are incapable of being defined by mere personality traits, literary accomplishments, and literary criticisms, an authors personality can be used to sketch a limited definition of his or her literature. Mark Twains literature manifests his personalitys candor, graphicnessRead More Examining Mark Twains Work to Determine If He Was Racist Essay4909 Words   |  20 Pagesversion of Mark Twain: Collected Tales, Sketches, Speeches, and Essays Twain picked up the ugly habit of depicting the corrupt American as ‘colored’ or ‘slavish’ in the 1880’s (Ladd 101). Although this type of speech was in vogue within the ‘eastern literary establishment’ of that time Twain’s adoption of their terminology is unsuitable for contemporary dialog. I cannot defend those statemen ts effectively without the ability to read them in context but Twain could’ve been alluding to the colored politiciansRead MoreA Mirror For A Flawed Society2115 Words   |  9 Pagesreality. Finn’s status as one of the first novels in the American realist style contrasts the previous works of that time from Romantic European style, which often exaggerates the virtues and aspects of the main characters. In Twain’s Fenimore Cooper’s Literary Offences, he argues that Deerstalker â€Å"has...no seeming of reality,† in accordance with the book’s romantic style and he urges readers to re-examine Deerstalker and the books like it as he writes concerning the characters,â€Å"by their acts and words

Digital Fortress Chapter 81-84 Free Essays

Chapter 81 Becker stood bleary-eyed beside the telephone booth on the terminal concourse. Despite his burning face and a vague nausea, his spirits were soaring. It was over. We will write a custom essay sample on Digital Fortress Chapter 81-84 or any similar topic only for you Order Now Truly over. He was on his way home. The ring on his finger was the grail he’d been seeking. He held his hand up in the light and squinted at the gold band. He couldn’t focus well enough to read, but the inscription didn’t appear to be in English. The first symbol was either a Q, an O, or a zero, his eyes hurt too much to tell. Becker studied the first few characters. They made no sense. This was a matter of national security? Becker stepped into the phone booth and dialed Strathmore. Before he had finished the international prefix, he got a recording. â€Å"Todos los circuitos estan ocupados,† the voice said. â€Å"Please hang up and try your call later.† Becker frowned and hung up. He’d forgotten: Getting an international connection from Spain was like roulette, all a matter of timing and luck. He’d have to try again in a few minutes. Becker fought to ignore the waning sting of the pepper in his eyes. Megan had told him rubbing his eyes would only make them worse; he couldn’t imagine. Impatient, he tried the phone again. Still no circuits. Becker couldn’t wait any longer-his eyes were on fire; he had to flush them with water. Strathmore would have to wait a minute or two. Half blind, Becker made his way toward the bathrooms. The blurry image of the cleaning cart was still in front of the men’s room, so Becker turned again toward the door marked damas. He thought he heard sounds inside. He knocked. â€Å"Hola?† Silence. Probably Megan, he thought. She had five hours to kill before her flight and had said she was going to scrub her arm till it was clean. â€Å"Megan?† he called. He knocked again. There was no reply. Becker pushed the door open. â€Å"Hello?† He went in. The bathroom appeared empty. He shrugged and walked to the sink. The sink was still filthy, but the water was cold. Becker felt his pores tighten as he splashed the water in his eyes. The pain began to ease, and the fog gradually lifted. Becker eyed himself in the mirror. He looked like he’d been crying for days. He dried his face on the sleeve of his jacket, and then it suddenly occurred to him. In all the excitement, he’d forgotten where he was. He was at the airport! Somewhere out thereon the tarmac, in one of the Seville airport’s three private hangars, there was a Learjet 60 waiting to take him home. The pilot had stated very clearly, I have orders to stay here until you return. It was hard to believe, Becker thought, that after all this, he had ended up right back where he’d started. What am I waiting for? he laughed. I’m sure the pilot can radio a message to Strathmore! Chuckling to himself, Becker glanced in the mirror and straightened his tie. He was about to go when the reflection of something behind him caught his eye. He turned. It appeared to be one end of Megan’s duffel, protruding from under a partially open stall door. â€Å"Megan?† he called. There was no reply. â€Å"Megan?† Becker walked over. He rapped loudly on the side of the stall. No answer. He gently pushed the door. It swung open. Becker fought back a cry of horror. Megan was on the toilet, her eyes rolled skyward. Dead center of her forehead, a bullet hole oozed bloody liquid down her face. â€Å"Oh, Jesus!† Becker cried in shock. â€Å"Esta muerta,† a barely human voice croaked behind him. â€Å"She’s dead.† It was like a dream. Becker turned. â€Å"Senor Becker?† the eerie voice asked. Dazed, Becker studied the man stepping into the rest room. He looked oddly familiar. â€Å"Soy Hulohot,† the killer said. â€Å"I am Hulohot.† The misshapen words seemed to emerge from the depths of his stomach. Hulohot held out his hand. â€Å"El anillo. The ring.† Becker stared blankly. The man reached in his pocket and produced a gun. He raised the weapon and trained it on Becker’s head. â€Å"El anillo.† In an instant of clarity, Becker felt a sensation he had never known. As if cued by some subconscious survival instinct, every muscle in his body tensed simultaneously. He flew through the air as the shot spat out. Becker crashed down on top of Megan. A bullet exploded against the wall behind him. â€Å"Mierda!† Hulohot seethed. Somehow, at the last possible instant, David Becker had dived out of the way. The assassin advanced. Becker pulled himself off the lifeless teenager. There were approaching footsteps. Breathing. The cock of a weapon. â€Å"Adios,† the man whispered as he lunged like a panther, swinging his weapon into the stall. The gun went off. There was a flash of red. But it was no tblood. It was something else. An object had materialized as if out of nowhere, sailing out of the stall and hitting the killer in the chest, causing his gun to fire a split second early. It was Megan’s duffel. Becker exploded from the stall. He buried his shoulder in the man’s chest and drove him back into the sink. There was a bone-crushing crash. A mirror shattered. The gun fell free. The two men collapsed to the floor. Becker tore himself away and dashed for the exit. Hulohot scrambled for his weapon, spun, and fired. The bullet ripped into the slamming bathroom door. The empty expanse of the airport concourse loomed before Becker like an uncrossable desert. His legs surged beneath him faster than he’d ever known they could move. As he skidded into the revolving door, a shot rang out behind him. The glass panel in front of him exploded in a shower of glass. Becker pushed his shoulder into the frame and the door rotated forward. A moment later he stumbled onto the pavement outside. A taxi stood waiting. â€Å"Dejame entrar!† Becker screamed, pounding on the locked door. â€Å"Let me in!† The driver refused; his fare with the wire-rim glasses had asked him to wait. Becker turned and saw Hulohot streaking across he concourse, gun in hand. Becker eyed his little Vespa on the sidewalk. I’m dead. Hulohot blasted through the revolving doors just in time to see Becker trying in vain to kick start his Vespa. Hulohot smiled and raised his weapon. The choke! Becker fumbled with the levers under the gas tank. He jumped on the starter again. It coughed and died. â€Å"El anillo. The ring.† The voice was close. Becker looked up. He saw the barrel of a gun. The chamber was rotating. He rammed his foot on the starter once again. Hulohot’s shot just missed Becker’s head as the little bike sprang to life and lurched forward. Becker hung on for his life as the motorcycle bounced down a grassy embankment and wobbled around the corner of the building onto the runway. Enraged, Hulohot raced toward his waiting taxi. Seconds later, the driver lay stunned on the curb watching his taxi peel out in a cloud of dust. Chapter 82 As the implications of the Commander’s phone call to Security began to settle on the dazed Greg Hale, he found himself weakened by a wave of panic. Security is coming! Susan began to slip away. Hale recovered, clutching at her midsection, pulling her back. â€Å"Let me go!† she cried, her voice echoing though the dome. Hale’s mind was in overdrive. The commander’s call had taken him totally by surprise. Strathmore phoned Security! He’s sacrificing his plans for Digital Fortress! Not in a million years had Hale imagined the commander would let Digital Fortress slip by. This back door was the chance of a lifetime. As the panic rushed in, Hale’s mind seemed to play tricks on him. He saw the barrel of Strathmore’s Berretta everywhere he looked. He began to spin, holding Susan close, trying to deny the commander a shot. Driven by fear, Hale dragged Susan blindly toward the stairs. In five minutes the lights would come on, the doors would open, and a SWAT team would pour in. â€Å"You’re hurting me!† Susan choked. She gasped for breath as she stumbled through Hale’s desperate pirouettes. Hale considered letting her go and making a mad dash for Strathmore’s elevator, but it was suicide. He had no password. Besides, once outside the NSA without a hostage, Hale knew he was as good as dead. Not even his Lotus could outrun a fleet of NSA helicopters. Susan is the only thing that will keep Strathmore from blowing me off the road! â€Å"Susan,† Hale blurted, dragging her toward the stairs. â€Å"Come with me! I swear I won’t hurt you!† As Susan fought him, Hale realized he had new problems. Even if he somehow managed to get Strathmore’s elevator open and take Susan with him, she would undoubtedly fight him all the way out of the building. Hale knew full well that Strathmore’s elevator made only one stop: â€Å"the Underground Highway,† a restricted labyrinth of underground access tunnels through which NSA powerbrokers moved in secrecy. Hale had no intention of ending up lost in the basement corridors of the NSA with a struggling hostage. It was a death trap. Even if he got out, he realized, he had no gun. How would he get Susan across the parking lot? How would he drive? It was the voice of one of Hale’s marine, military-strategy professors that gave him his answer: Force a hand, the voice warned, and it will fight you. But convince a mind to think as you want it to think, and you have an ally. â€Å"Susan,† Hale heard himself saying, â€Å"Strathmore’s a killer! You’re in danger here!† Susan didn’t seem to hear. Hale knew it was an absurd angle anyway; Strathmore would never hurt Susan, and she knew it. Hale strained his eyes into the darkness, wondering where the commander was hidden. Strathmore had fallen silent suddenly, which made Hale even more panicky. He sensed his time was up. Security would arrive at any moment. With a surge of strength, Hale wrapped his arms around Susan’s waist and pulled her hard up the stairs. She hooked her heels on the first step and pulled back. It was no use, Hale overpowered her. Carefully, Hale backed up the stairs with Susan in tow. Pushing her up might have been easier, but the landing at the top was illuminated from Strathmore’s computer monitors. If Susan went first, Strathmore would have a clear shot at Hale’s back. Pulling Susan behind him, Hale had a human shield between himself and the Crypto floor. About a third of the way up, Hale sensed movement at the bottom of the stairs. Strathmore’s making his move! â€Å"Don’t try it, Commander,† he hissed. â€Å"You’ll only get her killed.† Hale waited. But there was only silence. He listened closely. Nothing. The bottom of the stairs was still. Was he imagining things? It didn’t matter. Strathmore would never risk a shot with Susan in the way. But as Hale backed up the stairs dragging Susan behind him, something unexpected happened. There was a faint thud on the landing behind him. Hale stopped, adrenaline surging. Had Strathmore slipped upstairs? Instinct told him Strathmore was at the bottom of the stairs. But then, suddenly, it happened again-louder this time. A distinct step on the upper landing! In terror, Hale realized his mistake. Strathmore’s on the landing behind me! He has a clear shot of my back! In desperation, he spun Susan back to his uphill side and started retreating backwards down the steps. As he reached the bottom step, he stared wildly up at the landing and yelled, â€Å"Back off, Commander! Back off, or I’ll break her-â€Å" The butt of a Berretta came slicing through the air at the foot of the stairs and crashed down into Hale’s skull. As Susan tore free of the slumping Hale, she wheeled in confusion. Strathmore grabbed her and reeled her in, cradling her shaking body. â€Å"Shhh,† he soothed. â€Å"It’s me. You’re okay.† Susan was trembling. â€Å"Com†¦ mander.† She gasped, disoriented. â€Å"I thought†¦ I thought you were upstairs†¦ I heard†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"Easy now,† he whispered. â€Å"You heard me toss my loafers up onto the landing.† Susan found herself laughing and crying at the same time. The commander had just saved her life. Standing there in the darkness, Susan felt an overwhelming sense of relief. It was not, however, without guilt; Security was coming. She had foolishly let Hale grab her, and he had used her against Strathmore. Susan knew the commander had paid a huge price to save her. â€Å"I’m sorry,† she said. â€Å"What for?† â€Å"Your plans for Digital Fortress†¦ they’re ruined.† Strathmore shook his head. â€Å"Not at all.† â€Å"But†¦ but what about Security? They’ll be here any minute. We won’t have time to-â€Å" â€Å"Security’s not coming, Susan. We’ve got all the time in the world.† Susan was lost. Not coming? â€Å"But you phoned†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Strathmore chuckled. â€Å"Oldest trick in the book. I faked the call.† Chapter 83 Becker’s Vespa was no doubt the smallest vehicle ever to tear down the Seville runway. Its top speed, a whining 50 mph, sounded more like a chainsaw than a motorcycle and was unfortunately well below the necessary power to become airborne. In his side mirror, Becker saw the taxi swing out onto the darkened runway about four hundred yards back. It immediately started gaining. Becker faced front. In the distance, the contour of the airplane hangars stood framed against the night sky about a half mile out. Becker wondered if the taxi would overtake him in that distance. He knew Susan could do the math in two seconds and calculate his odds. Becker suddenly felt fear like he had never known. He lowered his head and twisted the throttle as far as it would go. The Vespa was definitely topped out. Becker guessed the taxi behind him was doing almost ninety, twice his speed. He set his sights on the three structures looming in the distance. The middle one. That’s where the Learjet is. A shot rang out. The bullet buried itself in the runway yards behind him. Becker looked back. The assassin was hanging out the window taking aim. Becker swerved and his side mirror exploded in a shower of glass. He could feel the impact of the bullet all the way up the handlebars. He lay his body flat on the bike. God help me, I’m not going to make it! The tarmac in front of Becker’s Vespa was growing brighter now. The taxi was closing, the headlights throwing ghostly shadows down the runway. A shot fired. The bullet ricocheted off the hull of the bike. Becker struggled to keep from going into a swerve. I’ve got to make the hangar! He wondered if the Learjet pilot could see them coming. Does he have a weapon? Will he open the cabin doors in time? But as Becker approached the lit expanse of the open hangars, he realized the question was moot. The Learjet was nowhere to be seen. He squinted through blurred vision and prayed he was hallucinating. He was not. The hangar was bare. Oh my God! Where’s the plane! As the two vehicles rocketed into the empty hangar, Becker desperately searched for an escape. There was none. The building’s rear wall, an expansive sheet of corrugated metal, had no doors or windows. The taxi roared up beside him, and Becker looked left to see Hulohot raising his gun. Reflex took over. Becker slammed down on his brakes. He barely slowed. The hangar floor was slick with oil. The Vespa went into a headlong skid. Beside him there was a deafening squeal as the taxi’s brakes locked and the balding tires hydroplaned on the slippery surface. The car spun around in a cloud of smoke and burning rubber only inches to the left of Becker’s skidding Vespa. Now side by side, the two vehicles skimmed out of control on a collision course with the rear of the hangar. Becker desperately pumped his brakes, but there was no traction; it was like driving on ice. In front of him, the metal wall loomed. It was coming fast. As the taxi spiraled wildly beside him, Becker faced the wall and braced for the impact. There was an earsplitting crash of steel and corrugated metal. But there was no pain. Becker found himself suddenly in the open air, still on his Vespa, bouncing across a grassy field. It was as if the hangar’s back wall had vanished before him. The taxi was still beside him, careening across the field. An enormous sheet of corrugated metal from the hangar’s back wall billowed off the taxi’s hood and sailed over Becker’s head. Heart racing, Becker gunned the Vespa and took off into the night. Chapter 84 Jabba let out a contented sigh as he finished the last of his solder points. He switched off the iron, put down his penlight, and lay a moment in the darkness of the mainframe computer. He was beat. His neck hurt. Internal work was always cramped, especially for a man of his size. And they just keep building them smaller, he mused. As he closed his eyes for a well-deserved moment of relaxation, someone outside began pulling on his boots. â€Å"Jabba! Get out here!† a woman’s voice yelled. Midge found me. He groaned. â€Å"Jabba! Get out here!† Reluctantly he slithered out. â€Å"For the love of God, Midge! I told you-† But it was not Midge. Jabba looked up, surprised. â€Å"Soshi?† Soshi Kuta was a ninety-pound live wire. She was Jabba’s righthand assistant, a razor-sharp Sys-Sec techie from MIT. She often worked late with Jabba and was the one member of his staff who seemed unintimidated by him. She glared at him and demanded, â€Å"Why the hell didn’t you answer your phone? Or my page?† â€Å"Your page,† Jabba repeated. â€Å"I thought it was-â€Å" â€Å"Never mind. There’s something strange going on in the main databank.† Jabba checked his watch. â€Å"Strange?† Now he was growing concerned. â€Å"Can you be any more specific?† Two minutes later Jabba was dashing down the hall toward the databank. How to cite Digital Fortress Chapter 81-84, Essay examples