Solved by verified expert:write an essay from the movie that I will provide it for you, and it has to be argument essay. Ithe movie name is Zootopia t’s about Officer Judy (bunny) Hopps jumps at the chance to crack a case, even if it means partnering with fast-talking Nick Wilde to solve the . People count’t trust her to be police because she is bunny and how the fox was bad and then latter become an officer too. We can make the argument about racism in our life and how we judge people with out known them.The like to the move is: https://www.vudu.com/content/.movies/details/zootopia/743190 and the Email/login:firstname.lastname@example.org and the passcode is: Ghillies9 .Also you need to use the evidence to make your argument stronger from this article please . AT 13, I DIDN’T EXPECT MY TEACHER TO BE AFRAID OF ME By Haneen Oriqat Minimum Length: 4-6 pages Requirements:Length: 4-6 pages (This is include your Works Cited page)• You will need 1.Introduction (including a hook, background information, and your thesis) 2.Body paragraphs (includingexamples from the textsas well as your narrative and analysis of outside sources) 3.Conclusion You may choose to end your essay with a reflection on how your relationship with words has changed because of the knowledge gained from the sources you have chosen. This is how the movie looks like please!
Unformatted Attachment Preview
AT 13, I DIDN’T EXPECT MY TEACHER TO BE AFRAID OF ME
By Haneen Oriqat
At 13-years-old, I was a nerd. At 13, I was also beginning to struggle with my identity. I
didn’t expect that my choice of dress would define my identity, just as I don’t think that
Ahmed Mohamed expected his identity to be the topic of a trending hashtag.
#IStandWithAhmed was trending at number one worldwide as social media erupted with
the story of a 14-year-old 9th grader in Irving, Texas being interrogated without his
parents’ knowledge and arrested in front of his classmates. Ahmed had brought a
homemade clock to school, but was accused by his teacher of the suspicious object
being a bomb. Despite claims of safety for the students, this wasn’t treated like an
actual bomb threat. There were no lockdowns, evacuations, or a bomb squad to
immediately remove the suspicious object from school grounds. When I read the article
about the incident posted by Dallas News right before heading to sleep on the night of
September 15, I was stunned.
I saw the picture of Ahmed being led away in handcuﬀs, his face a mixture of confusion
and fear. He had been excited to share his invention with his teachers, adults that he
trusted, educators that he looked up to. It was those same adults that should have been
there to protect him against harm. That look of anguish on his face was one that I felt
reverberated through my body on my first day of 8th grade as a 13-year-old. It was the
day I decided to come to school wearing a hijab.
I held the blue and cream-colored smooth material in my hands. Standing in front of the
small mirror in my room, I double-checked my outfit – my favorite blue jeans, longsleeved shirt, and new sneakers. I had spent a week planning this. The final touch felt
heavy sitting in my hands. I spent another 30 minutes placing it perfectly on my head
before running downstairs to meet my parents. I ignored the worry on their faces. They
assured me that they were proud of me for making this decision on my own, but they
still believed I was too young. I reassured them that I had made plans with my best
friends to meet me at the school’s main gates. It was the first day of 8th grade, but I
reminded myself that I had been attending the same middle school for two years. I
wasn’t a stranger to the teachers or students. My dad dropped me oﬀ at the gates,
where one of my friends had arrived early and was waiting to greet me.
She smiled, “I like it. You look nice. You still look like you.”
As we walked to our first class together, I couldn’t ignore the stares. I reached up to the
blue and cream-colored hijab, making sure it was still sitting on my head. I had heard a
lot about my new English teacher. Students loved her and believed that she was the
definition of a teacher that actually cared about each of her students. I was excited.
Maybe this year I would learn to love writing.
My friend and I could hear the animated chatter of our peers, almost all of whom we had
known for the past two years, if not more. As I entered the classroom, a hush fell over
the students. All eyes were on me. My heartbeat rang through my ears and yet still I
could hear the whispers. The walk to our seats felt like eternity. A part of me was
scared. It wasn’t the whispers, looks, or even the snarky remarks that brought the rest
of the students back to their lively chatter that worried me. It was the look in their eyes.
Worse, it was the look in the teacher’s eyes that I wouldn’t forget. Confusion, I could
handle. Fear, I didn’t understand. How could they be afraid of me? It was the same look
that Ahmed held in the trending picture of him being led out of the school in handcuﬀs.
Fear of the other or unknown existed long before September 11. I learned this very
quickly. Less than a month after walking into my first day of 8th grade as a visible
Muslim, the horrific events of 9/11 tore through the heart of America. I remember that
morning, but what I tried to forget was the memory of teachers and students fearing my
presence. I was 13 and too scared to tell them that I too was mourning the loss of
Their fear wasn’t something I imagined. Nearing the end of the year, my English teacher
gave us an assignment requiring us to ask others what words they would use to
describe us. I jokingly asked my teacher how she would describe me, not expecting a
serious response with students standing around. She put down what she was working
on and looked at me, pausing for a few moments before she spoke.
“Honestly, I was worried when you walked into my class the first day of school. I
thought, this girl must be a rebel. She’s going to cause trouble.” Those first words
almost caused me to miss the end of her answer when she went on to tell me point
blank that she was wrong. Although she had asked my former teachers about me, she
had come to know me as a student that was studious, hungry for knowledge and
books, and respectfully quiet. If she had been worried, how had the students felt?
After my first year wearing hijab, I knew what to expect when I started high school the
next year. But, I had hoped for diﬀerent reactions from students and teachers. A teacher
I enjoyed learning from waited until the end of the year, when a group of peers
surrounded me to ask questions about my way of dress, to reveal that she was scared
when I walked into her classroom. It took months for her to feel comfortable around me
because she too worried I would act up in class. It was in her class that I was
unanimously voted as “Most Quiet”. I accepted the award with a smile and a sarcastic
comment of how it’s always the quiet kids that were misunderstood.
Ahmed’s reaction to the consequences of his actions represented the innocence of his
thirst for knowledge. While his father was clear that his Muslim name and skin color
could not be ignored in this situation, Ahmed was not worrying about such details when
he brought his invention to school. He was thinking like a kid. A bright student that was
excited about what he had learned. Choosing to wear a hijab meant that I would have to
take into account my identity while in public.
I didn’t worry as much about wearing hijab. I worried about being expected to represent
all Muslim women, Muslims, and Islam. I was aware of the fact that my family was the
only Muslim family in the area and that I was the only Muslim student at school, from
elementary through high school. If I were going to represent Muslims against my control,
then I would make it count. I threw myself into extracurricular clubs and activities. By
the time I graduated, I was known by everyone at school and was even voted as “Most
Studious” for High School Senior Stand-Outs. I was shocked that I was even
nominated, but the support I received during the voting process was heartwarming.
Ahmed’s life changed when he realized that being black and Muslim would be
challenging, but also lead to great blessings. This incident brought him invitations from
top organizations and leaders nation wide. My life changed when I experienced culture
shock when I started at the UCSD. Suddenly, I was no longer the only Muslim student at
my school. That still didn’t stop others from worrying about my background, as a
As I continued on to higher education, I learned that I would not only be forced to
defend my religion and choice of dress, but also my identity as an American. I am
Muslim, but I was born and raised in this country. I am Muslim, and English is my first
language. That didn’t stop students and professors alike from stereotyping me as
someone who just landed in this country, with no grasp of the English language. One
undergrad professor expressed to me that it was obvious to her that my writing would
reveal that I was struggling with being new to this country and the English language.
This was before she had read any of my writing. Writing workshops in graduate school
contained fellow writers that expressed their worry of a Muslim women writing Muslim
characters, especially when they didn’t find any of the stereotypes they expected, about
the religion or the culture. Even as adult students, a few voiced before our graduation
that some not only were afraid to approach me, some didn’t want to speak to me
because the only Muslims they had ever seen were the ones on the news, painted to
hate America. Just like the police oﬃcer reacted to the way Ahmed looked, I have had
educators label me by their preconceived views of Muslims.
14 years after that first day of walking into my English teacher’s classroom, that teacher
has continued to be one of my favorite educators and a woman that my family and I
highly respect. She has supported my writing and educational endeavors throughout the
years. Just this past July, my family was honored to invite her into our home for a
Ramadan dinner. I know that Ahmed Mohamed will continue to gain support for his
creative mind and I hope that he will gain lifelong mentors like the ones I gained
throughout my education. Mentors who encouraged me to develop my skills and
nourish my passions. This is what education in America should be for every student.
Haneen Oriqat is a Muslim-American writer. She is an alumna of the University of
California, San Diego, where she received a BA in Political Science and a minor in
Literature/Writing while taking extensive courses in Photography. She received
an MFA in Creative Writing from Antioch University Los Angeles. With 5 years of
freelance editing and photography, she continue her passion in writing and
working with the community. She writes about issues of race, religion, gender, and
identity. You can find Haneen’s work at http://haneenoriqat.com and follow her on
Ring in New Years 2016 with Jen Pastiloﬀ at her annual Ojai retreat. It’s magic! It sells
out quickly so book early. No yoga experience required. Just be a human being. With a
sense of humor. Email barbara@jenniferpastiloﬀ.com with questions or click photo to
book. NO yoga experience needed. Just be a human being.
Join Jen for a weekend retreat at Kripalu Center in Western Massachusetts Feb 19-21,
Get ready to connect to your joy, manifest the life of your dreams, and tell the truth
about who you are. This program is an excavation of the self, a deep and fun journey
into questions such as: If I wasn’t afraid, what would I do? Who would I be if no one told
me who I was?
Jennifer Pastiloﬀ, creator of Manifestation Yoga and author of the forthcoming Girl
Power: You Are Enough, invites you beyond your comfort zone to explore what it means
to be creative, human, and free—through writing, asana, and maybe a dance party or
two! Jennifer’s focus is less on yoga postures and more on diving into life in all its
unpredictable, messy beauty.
Note Bring a journal, an open heart, and a sense of humor. Click the photo to sign up.
Purchase answer to see full
Delivering a high-quality product at a reasonable price is not enough anymore.
That’s why we have developed 5 beneficial guarantees that will make your experience with our service enjoyable, easy, and safe.
You have to be 100% sure of the quality of your product to give a money-back guarantee. This describes us perfectly. Make sure that this guarantee is totally transparent.Read more
Each paper is composed from scratch, according to your instructions. It is then checked by our plagiarism-detection software. There is no gap where plagiarism could squeeze in.Read more
Thanks to our free revisions, there is no way for you to be unsatisfied. We will work on your paper until you are completely happy with the result.Read more
Your email is safe, as we store it according to international data protection rules. Your bank details are secure, as we use only reliable payment systems.Read more
By sending us your money, you buy the service we provide. Check out our terms and conditions if you prefer business talks to be laid out in official language.Read more