Category: Analysis papers

Explain the relationship between firms’ strategies and their structures, according to Alfred Chandler

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The Internet Information Hunt
The assignment that you will be working on now will be done using the Internet, in order to locate answers to a series of questions.

The following URLs (Universal Resource Locator – also known as web addresses) should be visited first, but you are not limited to only them. The answers to the questions are found at these websites. Try to think of three additional questions that are relevant to you about search engines and then try to find the answer on these or other sites. List your reasons for choosing the additional questions. Before each URL ensure that you have typed [http://]. You must identify your answer to the question(s) and you must cite the web site where you got the information.

Links for Multiple Search Engines

Home

http://www.oise.utoronto.ca/oise/

Other Related Sites

http://www.actden.com
http://ww.corel.com
http://www.cyberbee.com
http://www.microsoft.com
http://www.sausage.com
Answer the following questions:

What is a search engine (hint: start with www.yahoo.ca and click on the Help/Info Centre link)?
How are search engines used?
Identify three Canada-based search engines.
Select your two favourite search engines and provide a rationale for your choices.
What is the purpose of enclosing the search in quotation marks?
What is the purpose of using a + sign in a search?
What is the purpose of using a – sign in a search?
What is the purpose of using the word AND in a search?
Identify three brands of web-page design software.
What is the function of web-page design software?
What design characteristics should be considered when creating a web page?
Define the following terms:
HTML
Link
Tags
World Wide Web
Web Page
URL
Web site
Search Engine
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Identify and Defend the Use of Graphic Organizers

Story Mapping in Reading Intervention with Learning Disability Students.

write 12 pages by using 17 articles regarding to this topic:
(Identify and defend the use of a story mapping in reading intervention with LD students.)

And you have to cover all the following points ( questions) in this paper. Make sure you cover all the three points ( questions).
• In this paper, you will present a review of research that offers a comprehensive discussion of this topic. Your paper must focus on students in your specific area of concentration (LD).

At this question or point you have to present a review of research that offers a comprehensive discussion of this topic by using this outline and article:
1. Review the learning disabilities LD.
The article name:
A. Nonverbal Learning Disabilities An Overview.
B. Evidence-Based Strategies for Improving the Reading Comprehension of Secondary Students Implications for Students with Learning Disabilities.
2. Review the reading intervention.
The article name:
A. Effect of a Combined Repeated Reading and Question Generation Intervention on Reading Achievement.
B. Diagnosis and Treatment of Reading Disabilities Based on the Component Model of Reading.
C. Meta-Analysis of Reading Comprehension Interventions for Students with Learning Disabilities Strategies and Implications.
D. Reading Interventions for Struggling Readers in the Upper Elementary Grades A Synthesis of 20Years of Research.
E. Reading Interventions for Students With Learning Disabilities in the Upper Elementary Grades.
F. Reading Mastery. What Works Clearinghouse Intervention Report.
3. Review the Graphic Organizers.
The article name:
A. Graphic Organizers
B. Graphic Organizers and Their Effects on the Reading Comprehension of Students with LD.
C. Graphic Organizers Power Tools for Teaching Students with Learning Disabilities.
D. Graphic Organizers and Students with Learning Disabilities A Meta-Analysis.
4. Review the story mapping.
The article name:
A. Story-Mapping Training as a Means of Improving Reading Comprehension.
B. The Effects of a Story-Mapping Procedure to Improve the Comprehension Skills of Expository Text Passages for Elementary Students With Learning Disabilities.
C. Use of Kidspiration Software to Enhance the Reading Comprehension of Story Grammar Components for Elementary-Age Students with Specific Learning Disabilities.
D. USE OF STORY-MAPPING TO INCREASE THE STORY-GRAMMAR TEXT COMPREHENSION OF ELEMENTARY STUDENTS WITH LEARNING DISABILITIES.
E. Using Story Grammar to Assist Students with Learning Disabilities and Reading Difficulties Improve their Comprehension.
• Identify a learning intervention that could be used with students with LD to increase their potential success in academic school outcomes. Fully articulate the intervention. (Explain what it is and how it is implemented)

At this point or question you will write about the following by using the article names above.
1. Graphic Organizers
2. story mapping.
• Defend or refute the use of this intervention by articulating why this particular intervention is an effective or ineffective means of increasing academic school outcomes? You must discuss at least 2 studies that demonstrate the effectiveness of this intervention. Your discussion should include a summary of the study conducted and its conclusion and should demonstrate that your knowledge as a consumer of research. You should demonstrate through your discussion that you can determine if a research design was appropriate to the study and if the analyses conducted do support the conclusions drawn by the study authors. ( Here understand the question and pick up 3 or 4 an article of graphic organizers and story mapping, then answer this question )

See the sample you wrote and the professor comment and do this paper like what you did in the sample paper and focus more on the professor comment to create a stole paper.
Also, see the instruction file .
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Milkman’s coming of age in Song of Solomon

Select one, two, or three pivotal moments in Song of Solomon and describe how they contribute to the coming-of-age of Milkman Dead. Specifically, focus on the psychological or moral development of the protagonist as he progresses from youth to maturity. Then write a well-organized essay that analyzes how that/those moment(s) shape(s) the meaning of the work as a whole. Be sure to include specific quotations and textual evidence to back up your claims.

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Labor Studies
Paper on "Nickel and Dime" by Barbara Ehrenreich:
When she writes about the hardships that the working poor (her fellow workers) face, Barbara Ehrenreich generally does not blame the workers themselves for their major problems, Instead, she finds so many obstacles, indignities, and hardships built into the way that our society treats such workers that it appears that it is almost impossible in many cases for them to get out of poverty. Others, who don’t see any big problems with the way our system treats different classes of people might view the same situation differently. They might argue that it is entirely (or primarily) the responsibility of poor workers themselves to individually better their own conditions.

Argue one side or the other of this dispute. (I know most will say it is BOTH, but I want you to take one side or the other as PRIMARILY more right than the other.) Who bears responsibility for guaranteeing a minimally decent life for the "working poor" in our society? The larger society or the workers themselves? Whichever side you take, be sure to provide evidence and strong arguments for your position, using examples from Ehrenreich’s book and/or your own experiences to bolster your case.
Keep in mind:
The question of "testing" low-wage job applicants (including urine tests) comes up. At this point in the reading, Ehrenreich states what she thinks is the real purpose of these tests. Since we discussed this last week, has your perspective changed any after reading her analysis of such testing? Any way you look at it, such testing tells us something important about our society: either it is composed of many low-wage workerss who are untrustworthy, prone to theft, and likely drug abusers, or employers use these devices to maintain control and to intimidate those at the bottom rungs of our economic order.

In addition to the usual impossibility of finding affordable housing, Ehrenreich brings in racial (and also to some degree, gender) issues in this particular reading. She chose to go to Maine because of how "white" it is. Having a smaller population of African Americans and Hispanics than her home state of Florida,she finds that racial and ethnic distinctions are less used in Maine to demarcate the lowest jobs and occupations. She also notes at one point, when she is being ignored as if "invisible" at the counter of a diner while ordering iced tea, that she might just be getting some sense of what it is like to be black in America. Thus, she raises in several ways the intersection between racial/ethnic divisions and class distinctions in our society. On the discussion board I’ll be asking you to meditate on these issues she encounters.

This particular reading also addresses issues about how low-wage workers are seen or perceived by others. As a cleaning maid, she finds that some homeowners seem to enjoy seeing a cleaning lady on her knees, set up hidden cameras to "catch" any misdeeds such as stealing, and seem totally oblivious to the humanity of those who clean up after them. She also finds that, unlike waitressing, being a cleaning lady relegates one to the lowest of the low in the eyes of others, even in the eyes of other low-wage workers themselves. "They think we’re stupid" is a comment that pretty well sums it up. Are such attitudes justified or not? What does this tell us about our society.

Ehrenreich also wants to debunk the notion that there is plenty of assistance available (at convenient times and ways) for those in need. She finds it practically impossible to obtain food assistance during any reasonable hours, and what she does get is unhealthy and somewhat impossible to consume in her circumstances. This again addresses a controversial question: does the U.S. give ample (many would say way too much) assistance to those at the bottom of the economic ladder? It is widely believed that our society is too generous — the opposite of Ehrenreich’s experience or belief.

And finally, this reading addresses the toll that is taken on one’s self-image when you are treated as "nothing" or "invisible" or at minimum untrustworthy and unworthy. She finds her fellow cleaning maids to be dependent on and seeking approval from a "boss" that Ehrenreich finds loathsome, and mostly devoid of any sense that they deserved better. To Ehrenreich, who would love to see some "fight back" from her fellow workers, this is dispiriting.

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7
The End of the Party

PART 1: SHORT STORY ESSAY (50 points)
Read the short story “The End of the Party” by Graham Greene and respond to one of the essay prompts
following the reading.
The End of the Party
– Graham Greene (1904-1991)
Peter Morton woke with a start to face the first light. Rain tapped against the glass. It was January the
fifth.
He looked across a table on which a night-light had guttered into a pool of water, at the other bed.
Francis Morton was still asleep, and Peter lay down again with his eyes on his brother. It amused him
to imagine it was himself whom he watched, the same hair, the same eyes, the same lips and line of
cheek. But the thought palled, and the mind went back to the fact which lent the day importance. It
was the fifth of January. He could hardly believe a year had passed since Mrs Henne-Falcon had given
her last children’s party.
Francis turned suddenly upon his back and threw an arm across his face, blocking his mouth. Peter’s
heart began to beat fast, not with pleasure now but with uneasiness. He sat up and called across the
table, “Wake up.” Francis’s shoulders shook and he waved a clenched fist in the air, but his eyes
remained closed. To Peter Morton the whole room seemed to darken, and he had the impression of a
great bird swooping. He cried again, “Wake up,” and once more there was silver light and the touch of
rain on the windows.
Francis rubbed his eyes. “Did you call out?”‘ he asked.
“You are having a bad dream,” Peter said. Already experience had taught him how far their minds
reflected each other. But he was the elder, by a matter of minutes, and that brief extra interval of
light, while his brother still struggled in pain and darkness, had given him self-reliance and an instinct
of protection towards the other who was afraid of so many things.
“I dreamed that I was dead,” Francis said.
“What was it like?”‘ Peter asked.
“I can’t remember,” Francis said.
“You dreamed of a big bird.”
“Did I?”
The two lay silent in bed facing each other, the same green eyes, the same nose tilting at the tip, the
same firm lips, and the same premature modelling of the chin. The fifth of January, Peter thought
again, his mind drifting idly from the image of cakes to the prizes which might be won. Egg-and-spoon
races, spearing apples in basins of water, blind man’s buff.
“I don’t want to go,” Francis said suddenly. “I suppose Joyce will be there … Mabel Warren.” Hateful to
him, the thought of a party shared with those two. They were older than he. Joyce was eleven and
Mabel Warren thirteen. The long pigtails swung superciliously to a masculine stride. Their sex
humiliated him, as they watched him fumble with his egg, from under lowered scornful lids. And last
year … he turned his face away from Peter, his cheeks scarlet.
“What’s the matter?”‘ Peter asked.
“Oh, nothing. I don’t think I’m well. I’ve got a cold. I oughtn’t to go to the party.”
Peter was puzzled. “But Francis, is it a bad cold?”
“It will be a bad cold if I go to the party. Perhaps I shall die.”
“Then you mustn’t go,” Peter said, prepared to solve all difficulties with one plain sentence, and Francis
let his nerves relax, ready to leave everything to Peter. But though he was grateful he did not turn his
face towards his brother. His cheeks still bore the badge of a shameful memory, of the game of hide
and seek last year in the darkened house, and of how he had screamed when Mabel Warren put her
hand suddenly upon his arm. He had not heard her coming. Girls were like that. Their shoes never
squeaked. No boards whined under the tread. They slunk like cats on padded claws.
When the nurse came in with hot water Francis lay tranquil leaving everything to Peter. Peter said,
“Nurse, Francis has got a cold.”
The tall starched woman laid the towels across the cans and said, without turning, “The washing won’t
be back till tomorrow. You must lend him some of your handkerchiefs.”
“But, Nurse,” Peter asked, “hadn’t he better stay in bed?”
“We’ll take him for a good walk this morning,” the nurse said. “Wind’ll blow away the germs. Get up
now, both of you,” and she closed the door behind her.
“I’m sorry,” Peter said. “Why don’t you just stay in bed? I’ll tell mother you felt too ill to get up.” But
rebellion against destiny was not in Francis’s power. If he stayed in bed they would come up and tap
his chest and put a thermometer in his mouth and look at his tongue, and they would discover he was
malingering. It was true he felt ill, a sick empty sensation in his stomach and a rapidly beating heart,
but he knew the cause was only fear, fear of the party, fear of being made to hide by himself in the
dark, uncompanioned by Peter and with no night-light to make a blessed breach.
“No, I’ll get up,” he said, and then with sudden desperation, “But I won’t go to Mrs Henne-Falcon’s
party. I swear on the Bible I won’t.” Now surely all would be well, he thought. God would not allow him
to break so solemn an oath. He would show him a way. There was all the morning before him and all
the afternoon until four o’clock. No need to worry when the grass was still crisp with the early frost.
Anything might happen. He might cut himself or break his leg or really catch a bad cold. God would
manage somehow.
He had such confidence in God that when at breakfast his mother said, “I hear you have a cold,
Francis,” he made light of it. “We should have heard more about it,” his mother said with irony, “if
there was not a party this evening,” and Francis smiled, amazed and daunted by her ignorance of him.
His happiness would have lasted longer if, out for a walk that morning, he had not met Joyce. He was
alone with his nurse, for Peter had leave to finish a rabbit-hutch in the woodshed. If Peter had been
there he would have cared less; the nurse was Peter’s nurse also, but now it was as though she were
employed only for his sake, because he could not be trusted to go for a walk alone. Joyce was only two
years older and she was by herself.
She came striding towards them, pigtails flapping. She glanced scornfully at Francis and spoke with
ostentation (display intended to impress others) to the nurse. “Hello, Nurse. Are you bringing Francis
to the party this evening? Mabel and I are coming.” And she was off again down the street in the
direction of Mabel Warren’s home, consciously alone and self-sufficient in the long empty road.
“Such a nice girl,” the nurse said. But Francis was silent, feeling again the jump-jump of his heart,
realizing how soon the hour of the party would arrive. God had done nothing for him, and the minutes
flew.
They flew too quickly to plan any evasion, or even to prepare his heart for the coming ordeal. Panic
nearly overcame him when, all unready, he found himself standing on the doorstep, with coat- collar
turned up against a cold wind, and the nurse’s electric torch making a short trail through the darkness.
Behind him were the lights of the hall and the sound of a servant laying the table for dinner, which his
mother and father would eat alone. He was nearly overcome by the desire to run back into the house
and call out to his mother that he would not go to the party, that he dared not go. They could not
make him go. He could almost hear himself saying those final words, breaking down for ever the
barrier of ignorance which saved his mind from his parents’ knowledge. “I’m afraid of going. I won’t
go. I daren’t go. They’ll make me hide in the dark, and I’m afraid of the dark. I’ll scream and scream
and scream.”
He could see the expression of amazement on his mother’s face, and then the cold confidence of a
grown- up’s retort. “Don’t be silly. You must go. We’ve accepted Mrs Henne-Falcon’s invitation.”
But they couldn’t make him go; hesitating on the doorstep while the nurse’s feet crunched across the
frost-covered grass to the gate, he knew that. He would answer: “You can say I’m ill. I won’t go. I’m
afraid of the dark.” And his mother: “Don’t be silly. You know there’s nothing to be afraid of in the
dark.” But he knew the falsity of that reasoning; he knew how they taught also that there was nothing
to fear in death, and how fearfully they avoided the idea of it. But they couldn’t make him go to the
party. “I’ll scream. I’ll scream.”
“Francis, come along.” He heard the nurse’s voice across the dimly phosphorescent lawn and saw the
yellow circle of her torch wheel from tree to shrub. “I’m coming,” he called with despair; he couldn’t
bring himself to lay bare his last secrets and end reserve between his mother and himself, for there
was still in the last resort a further appeal possible to Mrs Henne- Falcon. He comforted himself with
that, as he advanced steadily across the hall, very small, towards her enormous bulk. His heart beat
unevenly, but he had control now over his voice, as he said with meticulous accent, “Good evening,
Mrs Henne-Falcon. It was very good of you to ask me to your party.” With his strained face lifted
towards the curve of her breasts, and his polite set speech, he was like an old withered man. As a twin
he was in many ways an only child. To address Peter was to speak to his own image in a mirror, an
image a little altered by a flaw in the glass, so as to throw back less a likeness of what he was than of
what he wished to be, what he would be without his unreasoning fear of darkness, footsteps of
strangers, the flight of bats in dusk-filled gardens.
“Sweet child,” said Mrs Henne-Falcon absent-mindedly, before, with a wave of her arms, as though the
children were a flock of chickens, she whirled them into her set programme of entertainments: eggand-spoon races, three-legged races, the spearing of apples, games which held for Francis nothing
worse than humiliation. And in the frequent intervals when nothing was required of him and he could
stand alone in corners as far removed as possible from Mabel Warren’s scornful gaze, he was able to
plan how he might avoid the approaching terror of the dark. He knew there was nothing to fear until
after tea, and not until he was sitting down in a pool of yellow radiance cast by the ten candles on
Colin Henne- Falcon’s birthday cake did he become fully conscious of the imminence of what he feared.
He heard Joyce’s high voice down the table, “After tea we are going to play hide and seek in the dark.”
“Oh, no,” Peter said, watching Francis’s troubled face, “don’t let’s. We play that every year.”
“But it’s in the programme,” cried Mabel Warren. “I saw it myself. I looked over Mrs Henne-Falcon’s
shoulder. Five o’clock tea. A quarter to six to half past, hide and seek in the dark. It’s all written down
in the programme.”
Peter did not argue, for if hide and seek had been inserted in Mrs Henne- Falcon’s programme, nothing
which he could say would avert it. He asked for another piece of birthday cake and sipped his tea
slowly. Perhaps it might be possible to delay the game for a quarter of an hour, allow Francis at least a
few extra minutes to form a plan, but even in that Peter failed, for children were already leaving the
table in twos and threes. It was his third failure, and again he saw a great bird darken his brother’s
face with its wings. But he upbraided himself silently for his folly, and finished his cake encouraged by
the memory of that adult refrain, “There’s nothing to fear in the dark.” The last to leave the table, the
brothers came together to the hall to meet the mustering and impatient eyes of Mrs Henne- Falcon.
“And now,” she said, “we will play hide and seek in the dark.”
Peter watched his brother and saw the lips tighten. Francis, he knew, had feared this moment from the
beginning of the party, had tried to meet it with courage and had abandoned the attempt. He must
have prayed for cunning to evade the game, which was now welcomed with cries of excitement by all
the other children. “Oh, do let’s.” “We must pick sides.” “Is any of the house out of bounds?”‘ “Where
shall home be?”‘
“I think,” said Francis Morton, approaching Mrs Henne-Falcon, his eyes focused unwaveringly on her
exuberant breasts, “it will be no use my playing. My nurse will be calling for me very soon.”
“Oh, but your nurse can wait, Francis,” said Mrs Henne-Falcon, while she clapped her hands together
to summon to her side a few children who were already straying up the wide staircase to upper floors.
“Your mother will never mind.
That had been the limit of Francis’s cunning. He had refused to believe that so well- prepared an
excuse could fail. All that he could say now, still in the precise tone which other children hated,
thinking it a symbol of conceit, was, “I think I had better not play.” He stood motionless, retaining,
though afraid, unmoved features. But the knowledge of his terror, or the reflection of the terror itself,
reached his brother’s brain. For the moment, Peter Morton could have cried aloud with the fear of
bright lights going out, leaving him alone in an island of dark surrounded by the gentle lappings of
strange footsteps. Then he remembered that the fear was not his own, but his brother’s. He said
impulsively to Mrs Henne-Falcon, “Please, I don’t think Francis should play. The dark makes him jump
so.” They were the wrong words. Six children began to sing, “Cowardy cowardy custard,” turning
torturing faces with the vacancy of wide sunflowers towards Francis Morton.
Without looking at his brother, Francis said, “Of course I’ll play. I’m not afraid, I only thought …” But
he was already forgotten by his human tormentors. The children scrambled round Mrs Henne- Falcon,
their shrill voices pecking at her with questions and suggestions.
“Yes, anywhere in the house. We will turn out all the lights. Yes, you can hide in the cupboards. You
must stay hidden as long as you can. There will be no home.”
Peter stood apart, ashamed of the clumsy manner in which he had tried to help his brother. Now he
could feel, creeping in at the corners of his brain, all Francis’s resentment of his championing. Several
children ran upstairs, and the lights on the top floor went out. Darkness came down like the wings of a
bat and settled on the landing. Others began to put out the lights at the edge of the hall, till the
children were all gathered in the central radiance of the chandelier, while the bats squatted round on
hooded wings and waited for that, too, to be extinguished.
“You and Francis are on the hiding side,” a tall girl said, and then the light was gone, and the carpet
wavered under his feet with the sibilance (hissing sound) of footfalls, like small cold draughts, creeping
away into corners.
“Where’s Francis?”‘ he wondered. “If I join him he’ll be less frightened of all these sounds.” “These
sounds” were the casing of silence: the squeak of a loose board, the cautious closing of a cupboard
door, the whine of a finger drawn along polished wood.
Peter stood in the centre of the dark deserted floor, not listening but waiting for the idea of his
brother’s whereabouts to enter his brain. But Francis crouched with fingers on his ears, eyes uselessly
closed, mind numbed against impressions, and only a sense of strain could cross the gap of dark. Then
a voice called “Coming”, and as though his brother’s self- possession had been shattered by the
sudden cry, Peter Morton jumped with his fear. But it was not his own fear. What in his brother was a
burning panic was in him an altruistic emotion that left the reason unimpaired. “Where, if I were
Francis, should I hide?”‘ And because he was, if not Francis himself, at least a mirror to him, the
answer was immediate. “Between the oak bookcase on the left of the study door, and the leather
settee.” Between the twins there could be no jargon of telepathy. They had been together in the
womb, and they could not be parted.
Peter Morton tiptoed towards Francis’s hiding-place. Occasionally a board rattled, and because he
feared to be caught by one of the soft questers through the dark, he bent and untied his laces. A tag
struck the floor and the metallic sound set a host of cautious feet moving in his direction. But by that
time he was in his stockings and would have laughed inwardly at the pursuit had not the noise of
someone stumbling on his abandoned shoes made his heart trip. No more boards revealed Peter
Morton’s progress.
On stockinged feet he moved silently and unerringly towards his object. Instinct told him he was near
the wall, and, extending a hand, he laid the fingers across his brother’s face.
Francis did not cry out, but the leap of his own heart revealed to Peter a proportion of Francis’s terror.
“It’s all right,” he whispered, feeling down the squatting figure until he captured a clenched hand. “It’s
only me. I’ll stay with you.” And grasping the other tightly, he listened to the cascade of whispers his
utterance had caused to fall. A hand touched the book-case close to Peter’s head and he was aware of
how Francis’s fear continued in spite of his presence. It was less intense, more bearable, he hoped, but
it remained. He knew that it was his brother’s fear and not his own that he experienced. The dark to
him was only an absence of light; the groping hand that of a familiar child. Patiently he waited to be
found.
He did not speak again, for between Francis and himself was the most intimate communion. By way of
joined hands thought could flow more swiftly than lips could shape themselves round words. He could
experience the whole progress of his brother’s emotion, from the leap of panic at the unexpected
contact to the steady pulse of fear, which now went on and on with the regularity of a heart- beat.
Peter Morton thought with intensity, “I am here. You needn’t be afraid. The lights will go on again
soon. That rustle, that movement is nothing to fear. Only Joyce, only Mabel Warren.” He bombarded
the drooping form with thoughts of safety, but he was conscious that the fear continued. “They are
beginning to whisper together. They are tired of looking for us. The lights will go on soon. We shall
have won. Don’t be afraid. That was someone on the stairs. I believe it’s Mrs Henne- Falcon. Listen.
They are feeling for the lights.” Feet moving on a carpet, hands brushing a wall, a curtain pulled apart,
a clicking handle, the opening of a cupboard door. In the case above their heads a loose book shifted
under a touch. “Only Joyce, only Mabel Warren, only Mrs Henne- Falcon,” a crescendo of reassuring
thought before the chandelier burst, like a fruit-tree, into bloom.
The voice of the children rose shrilly into the radiance. “Where’s Peter?”‘ “Have you looked upstairs?”‘
“Where’s Francis?”‘ but they were silenced again by Mrs Henne-Falcon’s scream. But she was not the
first to notice Francis Morton’s stillness, where he had collapsed against the wall at the touch of his
brother’s hand. Peter continued to hold the clenched fingers in an arid and puzzled grief. It was not
merely that his brother was dead. His brain, too young to realize the full paradox, wondered with an
obscure self- pity why it was that the pulse of his brother’s fear went on and on, when Francis was now
where he had always been told there was no more terror and no more–darkness.
Essay Prompts: Choose one! Carefully construct and present your thesis with evidence from the
story. You will be graded using the rubric on the next page.
1. Graham Greene uses irony in his short story to highlight the doubleness of human nature. In a wellwritten essay, identify his use of irony and analyze what is being said about human nature.
2. Anatole France once said, “It is human nature to think wisely and act in an absurd fashion.” Using
the quote, analyze how Greene develops the characters of Peter and Francis. Consider their actions,
thoughts, interactions with other characters, and the fact that they are twins. How does Greene’s
story echo France’s thought?

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Human Resource Managment
Primary Task Response: Within the Discussion Board area, write 400–600 words that respond to the following questions with your thoughts, ideas, and comments. This will be the foundation for future discussions by your classmates. Be substantive and clear, and use examples to reinforce your ideas.
•Explain how using group dynamics can aid in the change process and the process for working with different types of work teams in a planned change process.
•Providing examples, discuss how the group dynamics of teams can help leverage large-scale system changes.

Responses to Other Students: Respond to at least 2 of your fellow classmates with at least a 100-word reply about their Primary Task Response regarding items you found to be compelling and enlightening. To help you with your discussion, please consider the following questions:
•What did you learn from your classmate’s posting?
•What additional questions do you have after reading the posting?
•What clarification do you need regarding the posting?
•What differences or similarities do you see between your posting and other classmates’ postings?

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BASED on the HSC- Australia- Board of Studies- Look it up.

Create a short story(creative writing) on belonging.
Please come up with an engaging title.
Explore: A sense of belonging can be emerged from memories and the connections with land, people and family.

Loss their sense of youth
Loss of identity
Loss of childhood innocence
struggle for acceptance
Perhaps the importance the family
Strong connection with the land/home
Shift in past and present tense. To show what is happening now and what the characters remember back then.

Use assonance, alliteration, negative tone, visual/olfactory imagery, personification etc.

Possible Idea: Coming back to your old neighborhood. Reminiscing about childhood. The character is Indigenous Australian (Aboriginal) who was taken but now comes back to his/her land. Talk about how the character walks around the place/home and reminisces the past. E.g. living room, dining room and BED room.
Mum’s cooking.
Talk about how the character picks up an old toy

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Reward Systems and Performance Management

Subject: Management

An in-depth report on any aspect of Performance Management or Reward Systems (or, an exploration of how these two concepts intersect). The paper should only be 5 – 7 pages in length, double-spaced, 12 font (Times New Roman or Arial).

The Term Paper should use classroom ideas as a starting point with which to present a deeper exploration of the concept you choose. Please include your personal opinions and conclusions, and explain why you chose your topic.

You will be required to cite a minimum of three (3) academic/management journal reference articles; your references should be full research-based articles (rather than from a newspaper, for example). Please include full bibliographic information.
I want to write about how you can use job descriptions in Performance Management. it would be your focus

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Compare and contrast the explanations of peace and stability in Grieco, Wendt, Ikenberry, and, Oneal.

J. Grieco, “Anarchy and the limits of cooperation”, A. Wendt “Anarchy is what states make of it”, G. J. Ikenberry, “Institutions”, J. Oneal “Causes of peace”

2. Compare and contrast the accounts of recent world order in Fields & Vernengo, Beckley, Hobson, and Hurrell & Sengupta.
D. Fields and M. Vernengo “Hegemonic currencies during the crisis”, M. Beckley “China’s century?: Why America’s edge will endure”, J. Hobson “Part 2 – Reconstructing the non-Eurocentric foundations of IPE”, A. Hurrell and S. Sengupta “Emerging powers, North-South relations, and global climate politics”

3. Compare and contrast the realist, liberal, and constructivist schools of thought.

4. What are the strengths and weaknesses of the Huntington reading
S. Huntington “The clash of civilizations”

 

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