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Tuesday, December 31, 2019

Psychopathology And Culture The Epidemic Of Eating...

Psychopathology and Culture: The Epidemic of Eating Disorders By: Bernadette Oldfield Dr. Van Arsdale Abnormal Psychology 6 May 2015 Throughout cultures, mental disorders vary immensely. In some cultures, certain disorders are considered taboo and not even recognized, in other cultures, the treatment of certain disorders varies, but the biggest thing that is different, is how certain disorders effect certain cultures and races less or more than others. This is something that happens in many disorders, but is always interesting to see why this happens. Does this happen because of media, because of society, or another reason? Numerous studies have been done to see how the prevalence of eating disorders varies among different ethnic groups. Although it is most commonly perceived that Western Europeans and North Americans suffer the most from eating disorders , however body disapproval is not just a problem among European culture, it is a problem among other cultures, specifically Hispanic women who are living as an ethnic minority in America. One’s research could end right there, but why is this? What other di fferences are there? Are there differences between what types of eating disorders the different cultures have and why they have the disorder? The answer is yes, in fact there are many differences that make the cultural aspect of eating disorders that much more in-depth and interesting. In a study done by Dr. Marques, the results showed thatShow MoreRelatedChildhood Factors And Eating Disorders Symptoms Essay1639 Words   |  7 PagesTwo studies were done about childhood factors and eating disorders symptoms. In the last two decades the prevalence of anorexia nervosa in South Korea has increased. The rate has increased from 0.03% in 1987 to 0.2 percent in 2007A study found that the Korean women with AN had higher levels of anxiety, perfectionism and an emotional childhood with a lower number of supportive figures compared to the healthy control group. The study supported ideas that personal vulnerability could be an importantRead MoreAnorexia Nervosa Is A Serious Eating Disorder1324 Words   |  6 Pagesappearance, if not we have entertained the thought at the very least. We live in a society and culture today that puts a tremendous amount of significance on the importance of the body. Not only from a health and wellness perspective, but more along the lines of having a strong desire to be skinny, or slim. The kind of physical appearance that is often unattainable. Anorexia Nervosa is a serious eating disorder that affects both women and men of different ages. Anorexia Nervosa can be understood and definedRead MoreUnderstanding Eating Disorders through a Biomedical Model or by Socio-Cultural Analysis3250 Words   |  13 PagesCan We Better Understand Eating Disorders, Namely Anorexia Nervosa, Through A Biomedical Model Or By Socio-cultural Analysis? ‘It’s like I never knew what self-respect was all about until now. The thinner I get, the better I feel†¦this has become the most important thing I’ve ever done. ‘ (Ciseaux, 1980, p.1468) Incidences of Anorexia Nervosa have appeared to increase sharply in the USA, UK and western European countries since the beginning of the 60s (Gordon, 2001). The increasing prevalenceRead MoreObesity is a national epidemic with wide consequences and cost to America’s health and1800 Words   |  8 PagesObesity is a national epidemic with wide consequences and cost to America’s health and productivity. In recent years, policymakers, medical health experts and parents have expressed alarming concerns about the growing problem of childhood obesity in the United States, especially among Hispanic children. While most agree that this critical issue deserves attention, consensus dissolves around how to respond to the problem. This research paper examines one approach to treating childhood obesity: TaxingRead MoreObservation Of Various Life Stages5410 Words   |  22 Pagesand makes children prone to contract anemia. On the other hand, again the WHO has classified obesity as a global epidemic, because currently more than 300 million adults and 42 million children in the world suffer, and 2.6 million people die each year because of it. According to the WHO, there is a large number of older adolescent population suffering from obesity, caused by poor eating habits that include large ingestion of saturated fat, sodium and sugar, that make these foods contain an elevated

Sunday, December 22, 2019

Mr. Theisenamarachi Marshall. What Was The Worst Decision

Mr. Theisen Amarachi Marshall What was the worst decision Herbert Hoover made that negatively affected the Great Depression? Language and Literature May 4, 2017 Stocks. I read about them every day in the car to my dad because he buys the Wall Street Journal. The newspaper has some interesting topics and it’s not a chore to indulge in as sometimes other newspapers are. Currently, the DOW Jones, a huge stock, is almost 21,047 points. That s very close to the current all time high. Eighty - five years ago, it was nothing like this. In the month of June in 1932, the DOW Jones stock fell to an all time low of 770.26 points. This was part of the aftermath of the Great Depression. Herbert Hoover, the president during the the†¦show more content†¦An investor would contribute a small percentage of the amount of money they would need to buy a stock. A stockbroker or a bank would loan a balance on almost no guarantee they would get their money as needed. This posed a problem. Later, when companies needed it the most, the companies realize that people were still not paying off loans as quickly as needed. The banks and stock brokers start ed to lose large sums of money. They were desperately needing more and more money from people who didn’t have what they needed to begin with. The dismal cycle lead to the stock market crash of 1929. From May 1929 to May 1933 Herbert Hoover served one term as the 31st president of the United States. Hoover was a member of the Republican political party. In his election, he won against Al Smith with 444 of the electoral college votes. A few months into his presidency, the Stock Market Crash occurred. Naturally, the United States as a whole started to look to the president and the government agencies for direction. There were many ideas that Hoover had that didn’t provide relief to the civilians during the Great Depression, they actually worsened the crisis. At some points, he rejected bills that would remedy some of the country s problems, because he believed that the government should not play a huge part in the bettering of the country. This belief was called laissez- faire. (Herbert Hoover) When the stock market crashed, many people were affected. Anyone who had money in the

Saturday, December 14, 2019

Antigone Creon vs Antigone Free Essays

In differentiating between the protagonist and the secondary characters in Greek drama, four characteristics of a traditional Greek hero should be kept in mind: undying loyalty, strong convictions, a single character flaw, and a lesson learned. In the play, Antigone, by Sophocles, two characters, Antigone and Creon, have thee of these four. The possession of the fourth quality is what sets one apart as the main character. We will write a custom essay sample on Antigone: Creon vs Antigone or any similar topic only for you Order Now Even though the title of the play is Antigone, the main character-the protagonist- is Creon.Antigone may seem to be the only character to have everlasting loyalty , as she is willing to die for her brother, Polyneices, right to a proper burial; however, Creon also displays this trait. It is Creon’s duty as a Greek man and as a King to protect his kingdom and put it above his enemy, regardless of his or her identity. Saying † a foe is never a friend,not even in death† (Sophocles ) Creon decrees that Polyneices shall not be buried. He enforces this even with his own family member, displaying a loyalty of great proportions to his country. Moral obligation and commitment play an important role in the play.Both Antigone and Creon display unbelivable fortitude when their positions on this are questioned. Creon is willing to rob his son of his bride. His power and kingship, what Creon most values, are questioned as a result of this. Still, Creon stays commited to his punishment for Antigone. By the conclusion of the play, Creon realizes that his character is flawed. He realizes that his pride and selfishness has doomed him to a life of being punished. He accepts responsibility for the suicides of his wife ,Eurydice, and his son, Haimon. â€Å"†¦ by my stubbornness, oh my son, so young, to die so young, and all because of me. (Sophocles ) Creon learns his lesson; Antigone dies without learning.Though Creon, on the surface, appears to be a heartless politician standing in the way of Antigone’s moral obligation to her brother, the truly is the protagonist in this play. This is eveidenced by his posession of certain qualities. These qualities are loyalty to this country, a strong belief, and a single character flaw which in the end dooms him to a life of punishment. At the end of the play, he understand this about himself. That’s what sets him apart as the main character. How to cite Antigone: Creon vs Antigone, Papers

Friday, December 6, 2019

Flood free essay sample

Rushing waves devoured my saddened soul, the day they also devoured my home. It was a day to be celebrated. Mothers all around the world would accept gifts, from the heart, from loved ones. A day that would be burned into their memories forever. Especially my mother’s. Happiness filled the gloomy, rain-stained air. Week long storms made the air heavy against my sweat-soaked skin. My body was too tired to move. But every time I would try to sleep, my half functioning brain wouldn’t let me. It knew that once I slipped out of consciousness again, the reoccurring nightmare would come haunt my inner most thoughts, leaving my body in an unreliable, restless state. Faced against the disgusting, crayon-stained, banana colored, â€Å"wall†, I sighed with great exasperation. If walls could talk, this specific one would have a story to tell, I thought to myself. It would tell of children with visions of becoming artists, as to which are beautifully illustrated on this maste rful canvas. What master pieces, what creativity. All of a sudden, a jolt of great force against my shoulder interrupted my daydream. Again it hit me like lightning zooming from Zeus’s immortal arm, on top of Mt. Olympus. That was followed by an all to familiar, raspy, whisper in my ear. â€Å"Wake up!† it bellowed. I gave a grunt of recognition and pulled the covers up over my head. Then I tried to pretend as if I was asleep, ignoring him once again. That never worked with him. He was never sympathetic of my lack of sleep. One last boom came from his mouth, echoing through my head. â€Å"Okay, I’m up!† I replied. I closed my eyes, and gave a loud sigh of unwillingness. â€Å"No†, the mountainous echo called, originating from the passage where light would seep in and disrupt my beauty rest. â€Å" Get up! It’s Mother’s Day and your helping.† A quickened glance at the clock revealed that it was even too early for my father to be strutting ab out. Once I ripped the covers off, I was blasted with cold, winter-like air, though mid-May, causing my body to mold massive goose bumps all over. My legs were like rubber as I ambled across the room, aimlessly searching for the unfortunate, nonexistent light switch. Piles of clothing had magnetized towards my uncoordinated feet. Blindness filled my pupils. Blurry visions skewed the view of my pestering younger brother. As he silently reached into my room and turned on the light, his happiness-draining laugh filled my mind with overwhelming irritation. I chased him down the hall, leaving behind my once tired self. Particles of thick smoke, containing the smell of bacon, sausage, and pancakes, enveloped us as soon as we entered the kitchen. The traditional Mother’s Day breakfast would never be the same. I knew something was wrong when I stared into my father’s unshaved, stress revealing, wrinkle crested face. He unsteadily laughed at me, while he watched me try to catch my breath. He read my mind once he noticed my penetrating stare. Slowly, he pointed at the bay window. â€Å"It’s rising a foot every half an hour,† was his response to my astonished face. Our house was nestled about one hundred feet from a river. Half way between our house and the river was a giant Weeping Willow, to which the water had risen. Was this how Mother Nature celebrated this special day? It was rushing toward the house like high tide. I stared in devastation and astonishment, watched, and waited. I gazed with great interest as two massive men pulled one of neighbors out of his home. He was as willing to leave, as a rock star would have been to leave a Barbie convention (as my 7th grade Language Arts teacher would have put it.) It was almost as if our neighbor knew the fate of his humble abode. I watched in total awe as the two rock like men lifted the tiny, elderly being off of his front porch and into an inflated raft, hauling him around like a toddler wh eeling a bright red wagon. Breakfast was ready, and it was time to wake my mother from her slumber, where nothing like this could happen. She was probably more comfortable there, than she would ever be in reality, I thought to my self. I faintly heard my dad, down the hall, break the news to my mother, in the most creative way. â€Å"Happy Mother’s Day!† his silly voice reverberated, â€Å"Now pack up we have to leave.† For about an hour, we packed 2 sets of clothing, and â€Å"just in case†, we picked up everything off of the floors and put them all into higher, less accessible places. Soon they would be coming for us. The water had reached our front steps, spreading evenly across our front lawn. My father had put palettes for us to walk on, if we needed to. Heavy rocks held the palettes in place so the rising water didn’t pull them out into the abyss. I heard hefty, muscular footsteps thump against our wooden steps. A swift rap at the door followed. That tapping at the door was telling my mind it was going to be okay, but my heart said different. I couldn’t tell if the knots in my stomach were coming from nerves, or hunger. Breakfast was cancelled for those who chose, or were forced, to help gather overnight bags and such. Deafen ing questions raced through my head. Creating an enormous migraine, which I would find out later, was the least of my problems. Well, the ‘Happy’ was diminished. But was it still Mother’s Day, wasn’t it? My father’s thunderous voice continued to shout, as the rapping on the door increased in vitality. His yells were followed by a brief ‘manly’ discussion between my father and the husky firefighter. When the firefighter finally left, my father beckoned my mother into the kitchen. They whispered almost silently. I could tell that my mother was trying to keep everyone calm and orderly as we helped each other pack for another half an hour. About an hour later, we were all ready with our coats on, and something to do in the car ¬Ã‚ ¬Ã‚ ¬Ã‚ ¬- a game boy, a book, crayons, and coloring books. Never did I think that that was the last night that would be spent at that house. As I had walked up hill behind our house leading to our neighbor†™s house, where the cars had been parked hours earlier. If anything like that had run through my mind, I would have broke down and cried, and never stopped. I was unusually calm unusually calm, almost as if someone else’s spirit had inhabited my body, or may be I was set into autopilot. Or may be it was the dark, and dreary atmosphere of celebratory extents. If my mind just focused on the thought of Mother’s Day, everything would be all right. Maybe, just maybe. The car ride seemed to take forever. Mainly because when my siblings would ask where we were going, the response was â€Å" For a ride†, or â€Å"I don’t know†. Now when those terrifying words left my father’s lips, I knew something drastic was happening, or he was taking us to a surprise restaurant and everything would be okay. It didn’t help any that all the roads were closed, and we were all hungry. The entire time my fingers were crossed, that we were just going out to e at. Approximately 2 hours later, the roads seemed familiar to me. Oh, no! I thought. We were in the town of Weare. Where my aunt and uncle live, with their two teenage boys. By the time we got there-taking all the detours humanly possible-it was time for dinner. Claustrophobic, wasn’t precisely the word to describe the 3-bedroom, one bathroom, trailer. But it was the closest that came to my mind after a few weeks were spent there, with my entire immediate family of six living in one room. Unfortunately, my entire summer vacation was spent there, from May 14th – August 31st. Relationships were torn apart, tensions rose, there was no absolutely no privacy. I lost myself, and I wasn’t sure life was worth living. But one thing was for sure†¦Mother’s Day will never hold as much passion as it did. The worse thing that could have happened†¦did. Our household was totaled (including our happy-go-lucky attitudes)†¦ on Mother’s Day, one of the most celebrated, and happiest, American holidays that exist. Hopelessness grabbed me at every possible moment. A never-ending flood of warm tears rushed down my face, hours at a time. From May 14th to August 31st, we were homeless. No privacy, and never any time to myself. I felt captive, there was nowhere to run, no safe place to seclude myself in. As well, deep sympathy for my mother also crowded my head. She did all of the: cleaning, grocery shopping, and cooking. She didn’t know what to do with herself. My days consisted of sitting in my mother’s Chevy Lumina, trying to read Mary Higgins Clark novels through watery eyes, trying to get as much alone time as possible. But it still wasn’t the same. To make matters worse, all summer long, it was down pour, after down pour. Thunderstorms galore. Each one causing more pain than the one before. Memories of my friends, my school, my room, and my past life†¦all washed away.