Question

How does the allusion to the Garden of Eden in Paragraph 2 affect this passage?

A. It suggests that the neighborhood is private and highly religious.
B. It suggests that it is a place where snakes pose great danger.
C. It suggests that the grounds are beautiful and comfortable.
D. It suggests that the family will be forced to leave their home soon.

Answer 1

Read the passage.

Cross-Country

The bus ride home was raucous with unbridled delight at the conclusion of another school year and the excitement of summer. The students around Ben talked of plans for gatherings at the community center, seasonal jobs, and activities like swimming, fishing, sports, and especially baseball. A few of his classmates asked whether Ben would be joining them as shortstop this year, but Ben shook his head no. His family was headed out for another summer adventure in the trailer they called home.

As he stepped off the school bus, he turned to wave at the friends he wouldn’t see again until the new school year began. A riot of red and white impatiens grew beneath the familiar, brightly painted Happy Trails Park sign. He walked the familiar stone path toward his house on wheels and its small front garden. Each family in Happy Trails Park had created its own compact Garden of Eden with well-tended gardens, fire pits, barbecue grills, and outdoor furniture. While looking forward to a new summer adventure, Ben was glad to call Happy Trails Park his home.

Ben’s father, an American history teacher, had a thirst for knowledge to rival Abraham Lincoln’s. Under his guidance, the family had traveled last year from their home in Michigan across the upper Midwest, with a final destination of Mount Rushmore in South Dakota. Their trailer became a private passenger train complete with a dining car and restroom. No longer stuck in one place, this home on wheels provided for all his family’s needs while moving them from one unusual spot to the next. They could camp out while still being at home, and the scenery changed almost every day. The trailer stopped in small cities and towns across the states as if it were a train. Like a midwest Lewis and Clark expedition, Ben and his family explored Wisconsin’s waterfalls, explored the many untouched, untamed forests of the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, and sighted the occasional bear, elk, and other wild forest animals. They remained in one place long enough to get tired of it and then moved on to the next stop on their trailer-train ride to their final destination of Mount Rushmore, where they’d all marveled at the sheer size of the magnificent monument. Ben looked forward to discovering which route they would take and which unique places they might visit this year.

As he finally reached his trailer and opened the front door, Ben sighed with satisfaction. A new cross-country adventure was just around the corner this summer, and he couldn’t wait to help his family plan it.

Answer 2

@AP

Answer 3

Alright, based on the mood emitted in that paragraph, which do you think is the best response? @bill533

Answer 4

B ?

Answer 5

Nah, read paragraph 2 again...

Answer 6

C

Answer 7

Yup.

Answer 8

In "Goodbye to All That," Joan Didion writes that the days before she "knew the names of all the bridges were happier than the ones that came later."

Which evidence from the text best supports the idea that her first years in New York were better than her last years in the city?

A. "The White Rose bars opened very early in the morning; I recall waiting in one of them to watch an astronaut go into space, waiting so long that at the moment it actually happened I had my eyes not on the television screen but on a Waterroach on the tile floor."

B. "Nothing was irrevocable; everything was within reach. Just around every corner lay something curious and interesting, something I had never before seen or done or known about."

C. "I never bought any furniture in New York. For a year or so I lived in other people’s apartments; after that I lived in the Nineties in an apartment furnished entirely with things taken from storage by a friend whose wife had moved away."

D. "Temporary exiles who always knew when the flights left for New Orleans or Memphis or Richmond or, in my case, California. Someone who lives always with a plane schedule in the drawer lives on a slightly different calendar."

Answer 9

Your guess?

Answer 10

B

Answer 11

B.) is correct

Answer 12

Read the passage.

Understudy Dreaming

Mr. Bills, the director of the school play, just delivered unbelievable news to the entire cast and crew. This year, now, today, I am no longer exclusively working with the backstage crew. I took a chance, auditioned, and now I, Gabriela Sanchez, am the understudy for the lead, and it’s a juicy role! Granted, it’s just the understudy, but I’ve got to be ready every night, just like Willow Chambers, who plays the lead. Willow is an excellent actress, and she’s won every part that she’s ever auditioned for, but if she ever gets sick, I’m in! Obviously, I do not want Willow to get sick, because she is a very kind, generous girl who is always willing to paint some backdrops or go thrifting for a prop. But if she does catch one of the nasty viruses floating around drama club, I will save the play. Okay, so I still have to work backstage with the sets and costumes and make sure the actors have what they need, but now I’ve also got to be ready at a moment’s notice to take the stage, recite my lines convincingly, and perform just like a real, regular stage actress.

Can you imagine what that’s like? It’s practically Shakespearean! Think of the dramatic potential: unknown young woman waiting patiently in the wings for that chance—that small, fateful chance—to be discovered. As I said, I definitely don’t want anything to happen to Willow, but if something unfortunate should happen to her—say she catches the flu or breaks her arm or something—I get to go on in her place. The stage waits for no one because as the old saying goes: “The show must go on!” Maybe I’ll get discovered by a talent agent or a producer or something. I mean, I do live in New York, the theater center of the universe, and someone in the play may have an uncle or a cousin who’s in show business. So it’s possible! Anyway, back to Shakespeare. That’s who we’re doing this year, performing his tragic play Romeo and Juliet. I can just see me there on the balcony, all lovely in my long, flowing gown, wistfully speaking those lines, “Oh Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou, Romeo?” I’d be a good Juliet, too, and I’d be the sun, just like Romeo says, glowing, shining—his light in the dark! How romantic is that? And Romeo would be so enchanted by me!

But, well, back to reality because I am only the understudy and not the star—not yet anyway. I’m so glad Mr. Bills encouraged me to audition. He could see past my prosthetic leg, see my hidden talent trying to burst forth, and see that I could do more than help the actors with a quick costume change. Understudy is a small step, but understudies have gone on to become famous in show business on both stage and screen. But I’m getting ahead of myself here. I may never even get on stage; still, I’ll have to thank Mr. Bills for encouraging me and seeing that I am more than a stagehand, prosthetic leg and all!

Blogging off!

Gabriela

Select the sentence that shows Mr. Bills to be open-minded and a visionary.

But, well, back to reality because I am only the understand and not the star-not yet anyway. I'm so glad Mr. Bills encouraged me to audition. He could see past my prosthetic leg, see my hidden talent trying to burst forth, and see that i could do more than help the actors with a quick costume change. Understudy is a small step, but understudies have gone on to become famous in show business on both stage and screen. But i'm getting ahead of myself here. I may never even get on stage; still, I'll have to thank Mr. Bills for encouraging me and seeing that I am more than a stagehead, prosthetic leg and all!

Answer 13

"Open-minded and visionary", thus:

"He could see past my prosthetic leg, see my hidden talent trying to burst forth, and see that i could do more than help the actors with a quick costume change."

Answer 14

In "To a Poor Old Woman," how does the image of ripe plums "seeming to fill the air" affect the poem?

A. It helps create the poem's mellow, satisfied mood.
B. It shifts the poem's gloomy and concerned mood.
C. It develops a tense and envious mood in the poem.
D. It gives the poem a bouncy or giddy mood.

Answer 15

I THINK IT IS A

Answer 16

Post the poem rq?

Answer 17

I need more context

Answer 18

Nevermind, I pulled it up

Answer 19

Yeah, A.) is correct

Answer 20

yeah cause i didn't have the passage

Answer 21

In "To a Poor Old Woman," William Carlos Williams repeats the phrase "They taste good to her" four times.

How does this use of repetition affect the poem?

A. The repetition stresses the poem's patronizing tone.
B. The repetition conveys the poem's energetic tone.
C. The repetition develops the poem's compassionate tone.
D. The repetition creates the poem's defensive tone.

Answer 22

It's all good

Answer 23

it is C

Answer 24

This one is obvious, too. Your thoughts?

Answer 25

Ye

Answer 26

it was so obvious

Answer 27

Lol

Answer 28

Read the passage. Then answer the question.

Taking the Plunge

You can’t really see the bolts when you’re on the ground, which isn’t surprising if you consider how far up I am—at least half way, meaning roughly five meters. What is that in feet? Unfortunately, I can’t ask Ms. Snyder, since she’s roughly five meters down and about 30 feet away. I’m not sure how many meters there are in 30 feet, but I can estimate: If I’m five meters up, then she’s got to be about twice as many meters away, which means it’s about 10 meters. Anyhow, there she is, about five meters down and 30 feet away, buying an orange cream ice pop, and if I could remember that theorem named after the Greek guy, I could probably calculate exactly how far away Ms. Snyder and her orange cream ice pops are.

Man, I should pay more attention in Ms. Snyder’s geometry class. Then I’d know how far away she is “as the crow flies,” like people say. Do crows really always fly directly? If I were a crow, I’d fly directly toward Ms. Snyder and grab her orange cream ice pop; although, in that case, maybe I’d better be a magpie, seeing as how they steal things.

Anyhow, you can’t see the bolts in this diving platform from the ground, which is good if your objective is to get more people to scale this crazy tower because those bolts are pockmarked and look wounded, like they’re bleeding rust, which doesn’t inspire copious amounts of confidence. I can’t see Ms. Snyder anymore because we’ve rounded the central column of the platform, and now all I see are the feet of the people above me on the stairs. It’s like they’re inching along a malfunctioning assembly line that’s churning out mismatched pairs of feet: here comes a pair with mauve nail polish on the toes, and now a couple with aqua socks, now some with hairy toes, now an ankle with a tattoo, now a bandaged heel. I’ll bet you one orange cream ice pop that bandage comes off upon impact with the water.

Honestly, why do places always seem higher when you’re looking down from them than when you’re looking up at them? I can’t turn around now, though, because if I did, I’d force 25 people to go down with me. I mean, I could try to just squeeze past them, but the stairway is too narrow for that, and I’d likely send several of them plunging into the roiling abyss. Right now I can see a boy who looks like he’s about 10, with spindly legs like a colt’s, whom I’d almost certainly take out, which would be horrible…and embarrassing. Who are all of these people who want to leap off of a 10-meter diving board, anyway, and what’s wrong with them? Don’t they know how far 10 meters is? It’s like 30 feet or something! What did they do, just start indiscriminately following each other? You’re in the wrong line, lemmings! The line for the orange cream ice pops is over there; just follow the hypotenuse from me to Ms. Snyder.

I’ve come to the final step, but I still haven’t reached the board—the three people ahead of me are waiting to make their final ascent up a stainless steel ladder, which is covered in little rust freckles. Apparently, you’ve got to walk the lonesome diving board by yourself. Nobody here can traverse it for you. I just heard the elastic, reverberating clack of the board and got a partial view of someone hurtling toward the water, and although I couldn’t tell exactly, since he was sort of a blur, I think it was the guy with the bandage, which is a pity. I guess I won’t be able to cash in on my orange cream ice pop bet.

Things are moving a little faster than I’d like at the moment. Doesn’t anyone want to stop and enjoy the view? No? Okay. It’s my turn to scale the ladder. I’m already slower than the few people who were ahead of me, and I’m not sure my arms and legs have gotten the message yet that they’re supposed to be climbing. I can feel the people behind me boring with their eyes into the back of my neck, so come on now, arms: one, two, three, start climbing! Are they climbing? Yeah, I think they are; although, now I’m just going to pause for a moment to try to scrape off one of these rust freckles. Nope, they’re permanent. I’d better get back to climbing.

I’ve reached the top, and I guess I wasn’t as slow as I thought I was, since the girl ahead of me is still on the board. She’s wearing a sleek one-piece suit and a swim cap, which I somehow haven’t noticed until now. She’s turning around. Is she surrendering? You can’t go back now, girl, or else that boy with the colt legs is sure to fall. Wait, she isn’t coming my way—she’s walking—and now inching—backwards, and only the balls of her feet and her toes are touching the board. She can’t be serious; she looks serious, though. Her eyes are penetrating and unblinking, and I swear I detect a smirk on her lips as she bends her legs 90 degrees and then springs backwards in a perfect arc. The last things I see of her are her feet, clasped like the petals of a rosebud. I’m waiting to hear the splash, but it’s taking forever to come. There it is: It’s not so much a splash as a plop, followed by a few dainty droplets.

It’s just you and me now, diving board. I’ve reached your brink, eddies swirling in the nebulous void beneath you, and all I can hear is a piercing ring. You’re just staring at me, maybe through me. Can I ask you something? Do you like orange cream ice pops?

What is the theme of “Taking the Plunge”? How does the theme emerge and develop over the course of the passage? Use evidence from the text to support your response. Your response should be at least three complete paragraphs.

Answer:

Answer 29

@AP

Answer 30

@Kamauri

Answer 31

what is the question

Answer 32

i got help i got to go so bye she can help you

Answer 33

The theme of "Taking the Plunge" is determination. The story tells us that no matter how impossible we think one things is, there is always a way to do it as long as we stay positive and confident. The main character had a problem with her body but that did not stop her from achieving amazing feats that one would think is impossible for her state.

Answer 34

Read the passage. Then answer the question.

Taking the Plunge

You can’t really see the bolts when you’re on the ground, which isn’t surprising if you consider how far up I am—at least half way, meaning roughly five meters. What is that in feet? Unfortunately, I can’t ask Ms. Snyder, since she’s roughly five meters down and about 30 feet away. I’m not sure how many meters there are in 30 feet, but I can estimate: If I’m five meters up, then she’s got to be about twice as many meters away, which means it’s about 10 meters. Anyhow, there she is, about five meters down and 30 feet away, buying an orange cream ice pop, and if I could remember that theorem named after the Greek guy, I could probably calculate exactly how far away Ms. Snyder and her orange cream ice pops are.

Man, I should pay more attention in Ms. Snyder’s geometry class. Then I’d know how far away she is “as the crow flies,” like people say. Do crows really always fly directly? If I were a crow, I’d fly directly toward Ms. Snyder and grab her orange cream ice pop; although, in that case, maybe I’d better be a magpie, seeing as how they steal things.

Anyhow, you can’t see the bolts in this diving platform from the ground, which is good if your objective is to get more people to scale this crazy tower because those bolts are pockmarked and look wounded, like they’re bleeding rust, which doesn’t inspire copious amounts of confidence. I can’t see Ms. Snyder anymore because we’ve rounded the central column of the platform, and now all I see are the feet of the people above me on the stairs. It’s like they’re inching along a malfunctioning assembly line that’s churning out mismatched pairs of feet: here comes a pair with mauve nail polish on the toes, and now a couple with aqua socks, now some with hairy toes, now an ankle with a tattoo, now a bandaged heel. I’ll bet you one orange cream ice pop that bandage comes off upon impact with the water.

Honestly, why do places always seem higher when you’re looking down from them than when you’re looking up at them? I can’t turn around now, though, because if I did, I’d force 25 people to go down with me. I mean, I could try to just squeeze past them, but the stairway is too narrow for that, and I’d likely send several of them plunging into the roiling abyss. Right now I can see a boy who looks like he’s about 10, with spindly legs like a colt’s, whom I’d almost certainly take out, which would be horrible…and embarrassing. Who are all of these people who want to leap off of a 10-meter diving board, anyway, and what’s wrong with them? Don’t they know how far 10 meters is? It’s like 30 feet or something! What did they do, just start indiscriminately following each other? You’re in the wrong line, lemmings! The line for the orange cream ice pops is over there; just follow the hypotenuse from me to Ms. Snyder.

I’ve come to the final step, but I still haven’t reached the board—the three people ahead of me are waiting to make their final ascent up a stainless steel ladder, which is covered in little rust freckles. Apparently, you’ve got to walk the lonesome diving board by yourself. Nobody here can traverse it for you. I just heard the elastic, reverberating clack of the board and got a partial view of someone hurtling toward the water, and although I couldn’t tell exactly, since he was sort of a blur, I think it was the guy with the bandage, which is a pity. I guess I won’t be able to cash in on my orange cream ice pop bet.

Things are moving a little faster than I’d like at the moment. Doesn’t anyone want to stop and enjoy the view? No? Okay. It’s my turn to scale the ladder. I’m already slower than the few people who were ahead of me, and I’m not sure my arms and legs have gotten the message yet that they’re supposed to be climbing. I can feel the people behind me boring with their eyes into the back of my neck, so come on now, arms: one, two, three, start climbing! Are they climbing? Yeah, I think they are; although, now I’m just going to pause for a moment to try to scrape off one of these rust freckles. Nope, they’re permanent. I’d better get back to climbing.

I’ve reached the top, and I guess I wasn’t as slow as I thought I was, since the girl ahead of me is still on the board. She’s wearing a sleek one-piece suit and a swim cap, which I somehow haven’t noticed until now. She’s turning around. Is she surrendering? You can’t go back now, girl, or else that boy with the colt legs is sure to fall. Wait, she isn’t coming my way—she’s walking—and now inching—backwards, and only the balls of her feet and her toes are touching the board. She can’t be serious; she looks serious, though. Her eyes are penetrating and unblinking, and I swear I detect a smirk on her lips as she bends her legs 90 degrees and then springs backwards in a perfect arc. The last things I see of her are her feet, clasped like the petals of a rosebud. I’m waiting to hear the splash, but it’s taking forever to come. There it is: It’s not so much a splash as a plop, followed by a few dainty droplets.

It’s just you and me now, diving board. I’ve reached your brink, eddies swirling in the nebulous void beneath you, and all I can hear is a piercing ring. You’re just staring at me, maybe through me. Can I ask you something? Do you like orange cream ice pops?

What is the theme of “Taking the Plunge”? How does the theme emerge and develop over the course of the passage? Use evidence from the text to support your response. Your response should be at least three complete paragraphs.

Answer:

Answer 35

@Kamauri

Answer 36

Take the Plunge' is a fabulous article with the message that 'Determination is the key to success'. We can simply transform incomprehensible into conceivable on the off chance that we have certainty and solid self-control. The author, Gloria Emerson, has enlightened us regarding her own involvement of venturing out to demonstrate this message