Private, public and voluntary sector

Private, public and voluntary sector In my assignment Im going to look at the different between three types of organisation which divided to privet sector, public sector and voluntary sector. As we know about the organisation are group of people who are working together, and the privet sector is the organization who is making special profit to develop his/her own company and it made up of sole proprietor , partnership and franchise which I provide it on Tesco as an example . A public sector is owned by the government so it is a public corporations .finally the voluntary sector which is known by non-profit sector owned by both the government and individual charities and going to use Oxfam as an example. The mostly for-profit benefit is the privet sector and it gets the benefit to the maximum extent while the public sector is going out to meet the needs of individuals rather than for-profit and non-profit sector not-for-profit. In any organisation there must be a goal , which they target that goal or that objectives of the organisation so, there is no reason to meaning-based. Each type of organisition has goal and objective . Tesco was established as a local small business to sell goods and expand all over UK becoming a privet business and then after few years later they opened branches over Europe. Tesco has 3,751 branches all over the word and over 70 million costumers .Tesco aims to make profit they aim to do with launch of a new product and services. The purpose of Tesco is to sell products to customers in cases, even at a loss, but they make it through the sale of other products at mark up. SWOT analysis is a very useful tool for understanding and decision-making for all types of situations in business and organizations. SWOT is an acronym for strengths, weaknesses, opportunities and threats. The SWOT analysis headings provide a good framework for reviewing strategy, position and direction of the company or business proposal, or any other nation. SWOT analysis is mainly used for business planning, strategic planning, competitor evaluation, marketing, and business and product development and research reports. The SWOT analysis is an objective assessment of the data organized by the Coordinating Committee for the drudgery of a logical order that helps understanding, presentation, discussion and decision-making. Four dimensions is an extension of the useful list of two basic title for pro and con. SWOT analysis can be used for all types of decision-making, SWOT template can be considered proactive, rather than relying on the usual reactions or instinctive. The application of tools for more efficient, let us consider that the product is being launched in a foreign country Pestle: Designer originally from the work of environmental scanning, and pest or pestle analysis is an analysis of the external environment macro (big picture) in a business that works. These are often factors outside the control or influence in the business, but it is important to be aware of when doing product development, business planning or strategy. Analysis and pestle is often used to go public tool, and find out where the organization or the product is in the context of what is happening outside of this will have some impact at the point of what is happening within the organization. The analysis of the pestle is a business measurement tool, and considers factors external to the organization. Often used in strategic analysis within the strengths and weaknesses, opportunities and threats analysis). Address pestle analysis and a framework to review the situation, and can also be used to review the strategy or position and direction of the company, a proposal, marketing, or idea. There are many variables on this form, including an analysis of the lesions and analysis of the steeple.

Carrie Chapter Nine

‘Playing match' ‘Something like that.' ‘And Tommy went along with it?' This was the part that most fascinated her. ‘Yea,' Sue said, and did not elaborate. After a pause: ‘I suppose the other kids think I'm stuck up.' Helen thought it over. ‘Well †¦ they're all talking about it. But most of them still think you're okay. Like you said, you make your own decisions. There is, however, a small dissenting faction.' She snickered dolefully. ‘The Chris Hargensen people?' ‘And the Billy Nolan people. God, he's scuzzy.' ‘She doesn't like me much?' Sue said, making it a question. ‘Susie, she hates your guts.' Susan nodded, surprised to find the thought both distressed and excited her. ‘I heard her father was going to sue the school department and then he changed his mind,' she said. Helen shrugged. ‘She hasn't made any friends out of this,' she said. I don't know what got into us, any of us. It makes me feel like I don't even know my own mind.' They worked on in silence. Across the room, Don Barrett was putting up an extension ladder preparatory to gilding the overhead steel beams with crepe paper. ‘Look,' Helen said. ‘There goes Chris now.' Susan looked up just in time to see her walking into the cubby-hole office to the left of the gym entrance. She was wearing wine-coloured velvet hot pants and a silky white blouse – no bra, from the way things were jiggling up front – a dirty old man's dream, Sue thought sourly, and then wondered what Chris could want in where the Prom Committee had set up shop. Of course Tina Blake was on the Committee and the two of them were thicker than thieves. Stop it, she scolded herself. Do you want her in sackcloth and ashes? Yes, she admitted. A part of her wanted just that. ‘Helen?' ‘Hmmmm?' ‘Are they going to do something?' Helen's face took on an unwilling masklike quality. ‘I don't know.' The voice was light, over innocent. ‘Oh,' Sue said noncommittally. (you know you know something: accept something goddammit if its only yourself tell me) They continued to colour, and neither spoke. She knew it wasn't as all right as Helen had said. It couldn't be; she would never be quite the same golden girl again in the eyes of her mates. She had done an ungovernable, dangerous thing – she had broken cover and shown her face. The late afternoon sunlight, warm as oil and sweet as childhood, slanted through the high, bright gymnasium windows. From My Name Is Susan Snell (p. 40). I can understand some of what must have led up to the prom. Awful as it was, I can understand how someone like Billy Nolan could go along, for instance. Chris Hargensen led him by the nose-at least, most of the time. His friends were just as easily led by Billy himself. Kenny Garson, who dropped out of high school when he was eighteen, had a tested third-grade reading level. In the clinical sense, Steve Deighan was little more than an idiot. Some of the others had police records; one of them, Jackie Talbot, was first busted at the age of nine, for stealing hubcaps. If you've got a social-worker mentality, you can even regard these people as unfortunate victims. But what can you say for Chris Hargensen herself? It seems to me that from first to last, her one and only object in view was the complete and total destruction of Carrie White †¦ ‘I'm not supposed to,' Tina Blake said uneasily. She was a small, pretty girl with a billow of red hair. A pencil was pushed importantly in it. ‘And if Norma comes back, she'll spill.' ‘She's in the crapper,' Chris said. ‘Come on.' Tina, a little shocked, giggled in spite of herself. Still, she offered token resistance: ‘Why do you want to see, anyway? You can't go.' ‘Never mind,' Chris said. As always, she seemed to bubble with dark humour. ‘Here,' Tina said, and pushed a sheet enclosed in limp plastic across the desk. ‘I'm going out for a Coke. If that bitchy Norma Watson comes back and catches you I never saw you.' ‘Okay,' Chris murmured, already absorbed in the floor plan. She didn't hear the door close. George Chizmar had also done the floor plan, so it was perfect. The dance floor was clearly marked. Twin bandstands. The stage where the King and Queen would be crowned (i'd like to crown that fucking snell bitch carrie too) at the end of the evening. Ranged along the three sides of the floor were the prom-goers' tables. Card tables, actually, but covered with a froth of crepe and ribbon, each holding party favours, prom programmes, and ballots for King and Queen. She ran a lacquered, spade-shaped fingernail down the tables to the right of the dance floor, then the left. There: Tommy R. & Carrie W. They were really going through with it. She could hardly believe it. Outrage made her tremble. Did they really think they would be allowed to get away with it? Her lips tautened grimly. She looked over her shoulder. Norma Watson was still nowhere in sight. Chris put the seating chart back and rifled quickly through the rest of the papers on the pitted and initialwarred desk. Invoices (mostly for crepe paper and hapenny nails), a list of parents who had loaned card tables, petty-cash vouchers, a bill from Star Printers, who had run off the prom tickets, a sample King and Queen ballot Ballot! She snatched it up. No one was supposed to see the actual King and Queen ballot until Friday, when the whole student body would hear the candidates announced over the school's intercom. The King and Queen would be voted in by those attending the prom, but blank nomination ballots had been circulated to home rooms almost a month earlier. The results were supposed to be top secret. There was a gaining student move afoot to do away with the King and Queen business all together – some of the girls claimed it was sexist, the boys thought it was just plain stupid and a little embarrassing. Chances were good that this would be the last year the dance would be so formal or traditional. But for Chris, this was the only year that counted. She stared at the ballot with greedy intensity. George and Frieda. No way. Frieda Jason was a Jew. Peter and Myra. No way here, either. Myra was one of the female clique dedicated to erasing the whole horse race. She wouldn't serve even if elected. Besides, she was about as good-looking as the ass end of old drayhorse Ethel. Frank and Jessica. Quite possible. Frank Grier had made the All New England football team this year, but Jessica was another little sparrowfart with more pimples than brains. Don and Helen. Forget it. Helen Shyres couldn't get elected dog catcher. And the last pairing. Tommy and Sue. Only Sue, of course, had been crossed out, and Carrie's name had been written in. There was a pairing to conjure with! A kind of strange, shuffling laughter came over her, and she clapped a hand over her mouth to hold it in. Tina scurried back in. ‘Jesus, Chris, you still here? She's coming!' ‘Don't sweat it, doll,' Chris said, and put the papers back on the desk. She was still grinning as she walked out, pausing to raise a mocking hand to Sue Snell, who was slaying her skinny butt off on that stupid mural. In the outer hall, she fumbled a dime from her bag, dropped it into the pay phone, and called Billy Nolan. From The Shadow Exploded (pp. 100- 10 1): One wonders just how much planning went into the ruination of Carrie White – was it a carefully made plan, rehearsed and gone over many times, or just something that happened in a bumbling sort of way? †¦ I favour the latter idea. I suspect that Christine Hargensen was the brains of the allair, but that she herself had only the most nebulous of ideas on how one might ‘get' a girl like Carrie. I rather suspect it was she who suggested that William Nolan and his friends make the trip to Irwin Henty's farm in North Chamberlain. The thought of that trip's imagined result would have appealed to a warped sense of poetic justice, I am sure. .. The car screamed up the rutted Stack End Road in North Chamberlain at a sixty-five that was dangerous to life and limb on the washboard unpaved hardpan. A low-hanging branch, lush with May leaves, occasionally scraped the roof of the '61 Biscayne, which was fender-dented, rusted out, jacked in the back, and equipped with dual glasspack mufflers. One headlight was out; the other flickered in the midnight dark when the car struck a particularly rough bump. Billy Nolan was at the pink fuzz-covered wheel. Jackie Talbot, Henry Blake, Steve Deighan, and the Garson brothers, Kenny and Lou, were also squeezed in. Three joints were going, passing through the inner dark like the lambent eyes of some rotating Cerberus. ‘You sure Henty ain't around?' Henry asked. ‘I got no urge to go back up, ole Sweet William. They feed you shit.' Kenny Garson, who was wrecked to the fifth power found this unutterably funny and emitted a slipstream of high-pitched giggles. ‘He aint around,' Billy said. Even those few words seemed to slip out grudgingly, against his win. ‘Funeral.' Chris had found this out accidentally. Old man Henty ran one of the few successful independent farms in the Chamberlain area. Unlike the crotchety old farmer with a heart of gold that is one of the staples of pastoral literature, old man Henty was as mean as cat dirt. He did not load his shotgun with rock salt at apple time, but with birdshot. He had also prosecuted several fellows for pilferage. One of them had been a friend of these boys, a luckless bastard named Freddy Overlock. Freddy had been caught red-handed in old man Henty's henhouse, and had received a double dose of number-six bird where the good Lord had split him. Good ole Fred had spent four raving, cursing hours on his belly in an Emergency Wing examining room while a jovial interne picked tiny pellets off his butt and dropped them into a steel pan. To add insult to injury, he had been fined two hundred dollars for larceny and trespass. There was no love lost between Irwin Henty and the Chamberlain greaser squad. ‘What about Red?' Steve asked. ‘He's trying to get into some new waitress at The Cavalier,' Billy said, swinging the wheel and puffing the Biscayne through a juddering racing drift and on to the Henty Road. Red Trelawney was old man Henty's hired hand. He was a heavy drinker and just as handy with the bird-shot as his employer. ‘He won't be back until they close up.' ‘Hell of a risk for a joke,' Jackie Talbot grumbled. Billy stiffened. ‘You want out?' ‘No, uh-uh,' Jackie said hastily. Billy had produced an ounce of good grass to split among the five of them – and besides, it was nine miles back to town. ‘It's a good joke, Billy.' Kenny opened the glove compartment, took out an ornate scrolled roach clip (Chris's), and fixed the smouldering butt-end of a joint in it This operation struck him as highly amusing, and he let out his highpitched giggle again. Now they were flashing past No Tresspassing signs on either side of the road, barbed wire, newly turned fields. The smell of fresh earth was heavy and gravid and sweet on the warm May air. Billy popped the headlights off as they breasted the next hill, dropped the gearshift into neutral and killed the ignition. They rolled, a silent hulk of metal, toward the Henty driveway. Billy negotiated the turn with no trouble, and most of their speed bled away as they breasted another small rise and passed the dark and empty house. Now they could see the huge bulk of barn and beyond it, moonlight glittering dreamily on the cow pond and the apple orchard. In the pigpen, two sows poked their flat snouts through the bars. In the bar, one cow lowed softly, perhaps in sleep. Billy stopped the car with the emergency brake – not really necessary since the ignition was off, but it was a nice Commando touch – and they got out. Lou Garson reached past Kenny and got something out of the glove compartment. Billy and Henry went around to the trunk and opened it. ‘The bastard is going to shit where he stands when he comes back and gets a look,' Steve said with soft glee. ‘For Freddy,' Henry said, taking the hammer out of the trunk. Billy said nothing, but of course it was not for Freddy Overlock, who was an asshole. It was for Chris Hargensen, just as everything was for Chris, and had been since the day she swept down from her lofty collegecourse Olympus and made herself vulnerable to him He would have done murder for her, and more. Henry was swinging the nine-pound sledge experimentally in one hand. The heavy block of its business end made a portentous swishing noise in the night air, and the other boys gathered around as Billy opened the lid of the ice chest and took out the two galvanized steel pads. They were numbingly cold to the touch, lightly traced with frost ‘Okay,' he said. The six of them walked quickly to the hogpen, their respiration shortening with excitement. The two sows were both as tame as tabbies, and the old boar lay asleep on his side at the far end. Henry swung the sledge once more through the air, but this time with no conviction. He handed it to Billy. ‘I can't,' he said sickly. ‘You.' Billy took it and looked questioningly at Lou, who held the broad butcher knife he had taken from the glove compartment. ‘Don't worry,' he said, and touched the ball of his thumb to the honed edge. ‘The throat,' Billy reminded. ‘I know.' Kenny was crooning and grinning as he fed the remains of a crumpled bag of potato chips to the pigs. ‘Doan worry, piggies, doan worry, big Bills gonna bash your fuckin heads in and you woan have to worry about the bomb any more.' He scratched their bristly chins, and the pigs grunted and munched contentedly. ‘Here it comes,' Billy remarked, and the sledge flashed down. There was a sound that reminded him of the time he and Henry had dropped a pumpkin off Claridge Road overpass, which crossed 495 west of town. One of the sows dropped dead with its tongue protruding, eyes still open, potato chip crumbs around its snout Kenny giggled. ‘She didn't even have time to burp.' ‘Do it quick, Lou,' Billy said. Kenny's brother slid between the slates, lifted the pig's head toward the moon-the glazing eyes regarded the crescent with rapt blackness – and slashed. The flow of blood was immediate and startling. Several of the boys were splattered and jumped back with little cries of disgust. Billy leaned through and put one of the buckets under the main flow. The pail filled up rapidly, and he set it aside. The second was half full when the flow trickled and died. ‘The other one,' he said. ‘Jesus, Billy,' Jackie whined. ‘Isn't that en-‘ ‘The other one,' Billy repeated. ‘Soo-ee, pig-pig-pig,' Kenny called, grinning and rattling the empty potato-chip bag. After a pause, the sow returned to the fence, the sledge flashed, the second bucket was filled and the remainder of the blood allowed to flow into the ground. A rank, coppery smell hung on the air. Billy found he was slimed in pig blood to the forearms. Carrying the pails back to the trunk, his mind made a dim, symbolic connection. Pig blood. That was good. Chris was right. It was really good. It made everything solidify. Pig blood for a pig. He nestled the galvanized steel pails into the crushed ice and slammed the lid of the chest. ‘Let's go,' he said. Billy got behind the wheel and released the emergency brake. The five boys got behind, put their shoulders into it, and the car turned in a tight, noiseless circle and trundled up past the barn to the crest of the hill across from Henty's house. When the car began to roll on its own, they trotted up beside the doors and climbed in panting. The car gained speed enough to slew a little as Billy whipped it out of the long driveway and on to the Henty Road. At the bottom of the hill he dropped the transmission into third and popped the clutch. The engine hitched and grunted into life. Pig blood for a pig. Yes, that was good, all right. That was really good. He smiled, and Lou Garson felt a start of surprise and fear. He was not sure he could recall ever having seen Billy Nolan smile before. There had not even been rumours. ‘Whose funeral did ole man Henty go to?' Steve asked. ‘His mother's,' Billy said. ‘His mother?' Jackie Talbot said, stunned. ‘Jesus Christ, she musta been older'n God.' Kenny's high-pitched cackle drifted back on the redolent darkness that trembled at the edge of summer.

Chapter 1 analysis of Daisy Buchanan †The Great Gatsby Essay

Daisy Buchanan is Nick’s cousin and Toms wife. She lives with the rich old-money population of New York on East Egg. From Nick’s first visit, Daisy is associated with otherworldliness. For example, the first image we have of Daisy in Chapter One is as one of a pair of women, lying on a couch and surrounded by fluttering, moving material – from the curtains to their white dresses, nothing is safe from the breeze blowing through the room. This sense of constancy in a sea of movement – indicated by her being sat on â€Å"the only completely stationary object in the room†¦ an enormous couch† – and the hints of purity or innocence attached to her – her white dress, â€Å"buoyed up† as though â€Å"though they had just been blown back in after a short flight around the house†, like an angel or fairy – combine to create an image of delicate beauty. This is furthered when Daisy makes â€Å"an attempt to rise†, but contents herself with uttering â€Å"an absurd, charming little laugh†, and the declaration that she is â€Å"p-paralysed with happiness.† All of these things make her seem childlike and thus add to her appearance of purity. She speaks in a â€Å"low, thrilling voice†, a voice that holds an â€Å"excitement† that is â€Å"difficult to forget†: â€Å"a singing compulsion, a whispered ‘Listen’, a promise that she had done gay, exciting things a while since and that there were gay, exciting things hovering in the next hour.† She is routinely linked with the colour white (a white dress, white flowers, white car, and so on), always at the height of fashion and addressing people with only the most endearing terms. She appears pure in a world of cheats and liars. As the story continues, however, more of Daisy is revealed, and bit-by-bit she becomes less of an ideal. Given that she is fully aware of her husband’s infidelities, why doesn’t she do anything about it? Because he has money and power and she enjoys the benefits she receives from these things, she is willing to deal with the affairs. Another incident that calls Daisy’s character into question is the way she speaks of her daughter. â€Å"I hope she’ll be a fool,† she says, â€Å"that’s the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool.† Clearly, she has some experience in this area and implies that the world is no place for a woman; the best she can do is hope to survive and the best way to do that is through beauty rather than brains. Daisy, however much described and elaborated on by Nick, is constantly not who she is described as and thus creates a feeling that the more she tells Nick about herself or the more Nick describes her the less we know leaving us unsure of where she stands. Her gayness and complete and utter satisfaction poetically described at the start of their encounter is completely wiped out by the end of the night though the way Daisy describes herself to Nick on the porch outside her house: â€Å"Well, I’ve had a very bad time, Nick, and I’m pretty cynical about everything.† Although we are almost certain that Daisy is not always cynical and more disillusioned than she thinks she is. we are uncertain on who she actually is and where her place is. Her purity is our main aspect established in this encounter except we find it hard to understand the purity when she is exposed to a very harsh and cruel life due to Toms affair and treatment of her. Overall, we can see much of Nick’s view of Daisy summed up merely in the way that he speaks about her; he uses many emotive adjectives to excite a feeling within the reader so as to make Daisy’s energy almost tangible (â€Å"thrilling†, â€Å"glowing†, â€Å"singing†) and oxymoronic phrasing to develop some of the tension underlying her character, e.g. â€Å"tense gaiety†. The main point we achieve in the seemingly lengthy meeting although apparently short thing that we gain from examining Daisy’s character is the first inklings of one of the major themes of the book: that riches do not seal happiness.

Anne Moody s Coming Of Age - 897 Words

In the story, Anne Moody, Coming of Age in Mississippi, Anne known as Essie Mae found out the meaning of racism at a young age and also see or heard what whites do to black people if they did not like what they was doing. She did not know that whites and blacks had their own place to sit and eat or why whites went to one school and blacks went to another. She just assumes that whites went to the school that was close to their neighborhood, but Essie Mae experience her first meaning of segregation when she met two white children she often play with at the movies. Since she figure they was friends she thought she could sit with them at the movies but her mother was very furious with that when she seen Essie Mae, her sister, and brother getting ready to enter the white side of the movie theater. Her mother pulled them out the door and told them they was not allowed to sit with the white children let alone be seen with them. â€Å"Now all of sudden they were white, and their whiteness m ade them better† (pg202) made Essie Mae confused and she wanted to know what made them so better, what was their secret.When the whites start coming back over Essie Mae examine them by comparing what they had to what her sister and brother had trying to see what made them so different, but all she seen was color. This really open her eyes to racism and later lead some change in her life. Every since the movie incident Essie Mae was very aware of the racism going on in her hometown Centreville,Show MoreRelatedAnne Moody s Coming Of Age1189 Words   |  5 PagesAnne Moody is the author of Coming of Age in Mississippi which was originally published in 1968. Anne Moody is a famous African American Mississippi author who was born in Wilkinson County, Mississippi on September 15, 1940. She was the eldest of nine children born to Fred and Elnire Moody. While growing up in Mississippi, Moody attended a segregated school where she was an outstanding scholar. Moody cleaned houses in or der to keep food on the table and clothes on her family members’ backs. In 1961Read MoreAnne Moody s Coming Of Age Essay1826 Words   |  8 PagesHIST278 Essay One - Joseph Malthus, 42863655 Anne Moody’s Coming of Age in Mississippi is a story of a black girl growing up in the American Deep South during the development of the Civil Rights Movement. Moody notices the racism that envelops her life and attempts to understand why it exists, despite the absence of reasonable grounding. Suffocating under the restrictions and fear caused by systematic racism, she ultimately decides to become an activist, and takes an active role in demanding equalityRead MoreAnne Moody s Coming Of Age881 Words   |  4 Pagesâ€Å"Moody, Anne. Coming of Age in Mississippi. New York: Dial, 1968. Print.† Anne Moody was a determined, educated, and an inspiring civil rights activist who was born in Gloster, Mississippi. Born on September 15th, 1940-passed away February 5th, 2015 Anne Moody dedicated her life to making the United States a better place for not only African American’s, but pleaded for equality amongst all races as well. Awarded best book of the year in 1969 by the National Library Association, Anne Moody writesRead MoreAnne Moody s Coming Of Age Essay1088 Words   |  5 PagesAnne Moody, a black activist in the twentieth century, wrote an autobiography, Coming of Age in Mississippi, which illustrated how life was like growing up poor and black in the rural south. She wrote in details of her life living in the racist society and what it meant to be black in the South twentieth century. Readers were able to understand her personal thoughts as well as her memories of the fight growing up in the south and her involvement in the Civil Rights Movement. Moody grew up with aRead MoreAnne Moody s Coming Of Age During Mississippi And Non Violent Vs. Violent Protest For Civil Rights1640 Words   |  7 PagesSamuel Conner Professor M. Du Bois HIST1025-002 October 30, 2015 Dreamers Instead of Leaders: Anne Moody’s Coming of Age in Mississippi and Non-Violent vs. Violent Protest for Civil Rights The American Civil Rights Movement in the late 1950s and 1960s generated massive international following and controversy, which made the movement one of the most important in U.S. history. The movement’s legacy can still be felt today, with the positive aspects, such as voting rights to African Americans and wideRead MoreComing Of Age Throughout Mississippi By Anne Moody1362 Words   |  6 Pages Coming of Age in Mississippi Essay Fredric Stanley HIST 3881 Professor James Conway 7 November 2015 â€Æ' Though we Americans, in all of our efforts, feel as if the day of racism is coming to an end, I feel it is merely evolving into a much more subtle approach. Seeing life through the words of Anne Moody in her book entitled, Coming of Age in Mississippi, shows that racism, even back then, is treated with remedies versus a cure. After the many anti-discrimination legislations passed as well asRead More Coming of Age in Mississippi by Anne Moody Essay examples1005 Words   |  5 PagesComing of Age in Mississippi by Anne Moody   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  The autobiography Coming of Age in Mississippi by Anne Moody is the story of her life as a poor black girl growing into adulthood. Moody chose to start at the beginning - when she was four-years-old, the child of poor sharecroppers working for a white farmer. She overcomes obstacles such as discrimination and hunger as she struggles to survive childhood in one of the most racially discriminated states in America. In telling the story of her lifeRead MoreComing Of Age Throughout Mississippi By Anne Moody1388 Words   |  6 PagesIn the autobiography â€Å"Coming of age in Mississippi† by Anne Moody known as Essie Mae in the book she writes in great detail the struggles her and other people of her color had to go through in order to gain their rights. From such a young age she saw the differences in the way people of color were treated in comparison to whites, things that no one should go through much less a kid. From the beginning you see that Essie Mae i s such a brilliant kid and all the trials she goes through and the knowledgeRead More Coming of Age in Mississippi Essay example639 Words   |  3 Pages The first main event that I believe led to Anne Moody becoming an activist for Civil Rights was when she was younger, her cousin George Lee was babysitting and he burned down the house in a fit of rage and when Daddy gets home he blames it on Essie Mae (Anne Moody). This foreshadows all of life’s injustices that will be thrown her way. The next time was when she made friends with white neighbors and they decided to go to the movies, Anne couldn’t sit with her friends, she had to sit in the balconyRead More Anne Moodys Coming of Age in Mississippi Essay1127 Words   |  5 PagesAnne Moodys Coming of Age in Mississippi Coming of Age in Mississippi is the amazing story of Anne Moodys unbreakable spirit and character throughout the first twenty-three years of her life. Time and time again she speaks of unthinkable odds and conditions and how she manages to keep excelling in her aspirations, yet she ends the book with a tone of hesitation, fear, and skepticism. While she continually fought the tide of society and her elders, suddenly in the end she is speaking as