In this confessional age, TV, radio and print rely for much of their content on the sad stories of those 'victims' of life. The story goes something like this: There is the future 'victim' getting on with their quotidian activities and whoosh, they are whisked into a life of gambling, drugs, sex or junk food addiction. After years of struggle, they finally find redemption and become good people again. As in any good tale of redemption, there has to be a 'reason' for why our 'victim' fell off the rails. Take your pick: they were molested, their parents ran away from home, they were denied desserts except on Sundays. Just thinking about it brings a tear to my stony face. How can you not be moved by tales such as these. What is the precipitating cause of the misery in my life? Well, my mother was French and my father was English. And to make things worse, I was brought up Catholic! Yes folks, in today's shorthand of grievance, I'm a half-breed straddling Canada's great language divide and a religious bigot. My hometown was a mixture of French and English-speaking people and the results of their miscenagation. You could never tell by someone's last name who spoke your language (For instance, my good friend P. Arsenault spoke the Queen's English and my cousin Sean Doyle wouldn't have recognized an Oxford Dictionary if you shoved up his nose). As children, we were segregated by language; all the French-speaking kids went to one side of the school where they spoke French all the time. I was fortunate enough to be sent to the English side of the school and got to speak my native tongue. My parents decided my brother and sister wouldn't be quite so lucky. In an effort to bridge the great language divide, they both spent six years learning everything in French and mingling with the French people (My parents did this because it was the firm belief of all forward-thinking families that whatever road you took would be much smoother if you could speak both of Canada's official languages. As it turns out for my siblings and... why was the author in misery Pick the correct answer from the following options: A. his parents gave him a horrible upbringing B. they had no money C. not enough information D. he was thrown in a life of crime
A

Macy peeked in, expecting to see Mallie Mae in her favorite chair. Instead, she was standing at a front window, staring at the sky. The matriarch spent most of her time in her bedroom these days. She had everything she needed right there. The room was spacious and beautifully furnished. And Macy was ready to jump at her command. "Did you finish your lunch, Mallie Mae?" The 75-year-old Mallie Mae Mobley loved Macy like the daughter she never had. "Yes, I'm finished. But tell Hadley the ham was dry." "You know that will hurt his feelings." "I don't care. I won't eat dry ham. I've told him over and over, but he keeps sending me dry ham." "Yes, Ma'am. I'll tell him. Macy walked over to pick up the tray. "What do you think about Lilman's fiance? "She a nice young lady, I suppose." "Macy--tell me what you really think." Macy studied Mallie Mae's face to make sure she really wanted to hear her opinion. "I'm not crazy about her." "I think she's awful--a crude money-hungry tramp." Macy tried not to smile. Mallie Mae went on. "If there was any way I could stop this wedding without alienated my son, I would do it in a heartbeat." "Just tell him how you feel." "No, no, no. Then he'll be determined to marry her--and he'll be mad at me. I wanted him to be a surgeon, you know. I had planned it since he was a little boy. He could have been a world-class surgeon." Macy had heard this story nearly every day since she took the job as a personal aide fifteen years earlier, after Mallie Mae had taken a fall and broken her leg. Mallie Mae had lunch Pick the correct answer from the following options: A. not enough information B. After talking to Macy C. She had lunch with Macy D. Before talking to Macy
D

I do not fully understand exactly what you are asking so I will restate what I believe you are asking and then I will answer it. What was the best excuse that a student ever gave for having failed to do something? I would have to say that I was most entertained by a student's response to "Why are you late for school?" The student said, "I awoke in time this morning but there was a mouse sitting on the edge of my bed. I looked at him and he looked back. The mouse said to me, 'Go back to sleep' and what could I do? He had a gun." The following has worked a few times too when students refuse to talk. That is, I know that one of the assembled students was the culprit for some activity. When they will not talk, I interview them one at a time while the others are kept away from each other. Then when they are assembled before me again, I say, "Thank you gentlemen. I know who did it so you others are free to return to class." All but one arises and leaves. This works more times than not. For years I have given assignments via email and I have collected assignments via email. Nothing has ever gotten lost this way and things are timestamped. I do not have to make photocopies and even students who are not present the day that the assignment is announced in class, get the assignment in a timely manner. One young lady told me, "I turned it in but you must have lost it." "Okay," I said, "Open your sent folder and show me that you sent it." She replied by saying, "I delete my sent folder to keep from clogging up my email." I told her that I understood and that she could show me an empty sent folder to prove that she was telling the truth. She said, "I lied." The teacher is probably Pick the correct answer from the following options: A. experienced B. new C. B D. not enough information
A