Can I Earn a Law Degree Online and Practice Law

Students are able to earn law degrees online, however, online programs accredited by the American Bar Association (ABA) are difficult to find. The field of law has been slow to keep up with the ever-increasing popularity of distance learning, and as of 2018, only four states allow students matriculating from online law schools to take the bar exam. Structure of Online Programs Online law degree programs generally take four years to complete. An academic year consists of 48 to 52 consecutive weeks. Just as with traditional law school programs, online law schools have certain required courses and other electives which vary by institution. Most online law school classes meet virtually for class discussions, provide lectures and texts for review, and have assignments and assessments that need to be completed. One big difference between traditional law degree programs and online degree programs is that many distance learning courses have more than just one large exam at the end of the course that determines a students grade. One large exam is commonly found in more traditional courses held at on-campus law schools. Bar Exam Eligibility Candidates must pass a state bar exam to become a licensed attorney and practice law, and eligibility to even take the exam varies by state. As of the 2018 ABA guidelines, only three states—California, Maine, Minnesota, and New Mexico—recognize online law schools as an acceptable  means of legal study for bar exam applicants. Schools including Boston University offer specific law programs (not J.D.) that are backed by the ADA, but as of fall 2018, only one school has earned accreditation by the ABA as a Live Online J.D. Program—Syracuse Law School. One loophole that students might find useful is that if they pass the bar exam in one of those four states, they may be eligible to take the bar exam in another state, even if they attended an online law school. However, this is not possible in every state and other qualifications may be required. Some states have reciprocity agreements that  allow lawyers licensed in one state to practice in another state after a set number of years. Usually, one must practice law for at least five years before becoming eligible for reciprocity, and it is not guaranteed. Landing a Legal Job Many legal employers still arent fully on the distance learning bandwagon. The legal profession is reluctant to changes in long-standing traditions, so dont most top law firms will be looking for ABA-accredited schools. Students holding online law degrees can always work as solo practitioners, but will not benefit from many of the advantages often found when working in a firm, including robust resources and a wide network of support and connections.

The Life Of Marguerite Johnson - 1011 Words

Marguerite Johnson was known for many different attributes in her life. She was a poem writer , writer of stories , producer , director , actor and many more different things that gave her the opportunity in life to be as a known legend. Born in St. Louis, Missouri on April 4,1928 to her parents Bailey Johnson and Vivian Baxter Johnson. This was just the beginning on her adventurous lifestyle. Her parents had come upon an agreement to part their separate ways in life. When deciding this they also agreed that it was best for their children to live with her grandmother Annie Henderson. Moving to Rural Stamps, Arkansas her brother Bailey had given Marguerite a nickname Maya. (noteablebiograophies.com) Living with her grandmother , she gained so much confidence and pride. Her grandmother was the one to show her how to live with her self and be content with it. Visiting her mother back to her home town St. Louis, Missouri she was raped by her mother s boyfriend. Maya testified against him which was very hard on her since she was only an eight year old. Her uncles beat the offender to death. Maya felt as if she killed him because of the statements she testified against him. Feeling this way she became silent for five consecutive years She attended public schools in Arkansas. Her and her brother Bailey joined her mother in California to continue the schooling career. In 1942 her teacher Ms. Bertha Flowers helped Maya to talk again and encouraged her to continue to write theShow MoreRelatedThe Life Of Marguerite Johnson963 Words   |  4 Pages Marguerite Johnson later known as Maya Angelou was born on April 4th, 1928 in St. Louis, Missouri. Marguerite Johnson was raised in St. Louis, Missouri as well as Stamps, Arkansas. According to her website, Stamps at the time that she was raised, was the frontier of the South During the 1930s and 1940s when Johnson was growing up, Stamps ran rampant with racial discrimination and physical brutality. Mar guerite was raised by her grandmother from 4 years old to 8 years old. Johnson came to live withRead MoreReview Of I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings 1553 Words   |  7 PagesMarguerite’s Fight Against Adversity As the late great William Arthur Ward would state â€Å"Adversity causes some men to break, others to break records† (Ward). Throughout the novel â€Å"I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings† by: Maya Angelou, she illustrates Marguerite combating society from a disadvantaged position. Set in the United States during the time of racism and segregation towards the black community, the novel displays the contrast in Maya’s upbringing in Stamps, St. Louis to San Francisco and her constantlyRead More I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings Essay730 Words   |  3 Pagesof these issues was probably the fact that Maya lived in the highly segregated south. Another factor of her imprisonment was because Maya, also known as Marguerite, was a social outcast, with very few friends other then relatives. Finally, the main character was entrapped because of her unusual sexual exposure. Over all, the highly segregated life she led, her exclusion socially, and her sexual experience caught Ms. Angelou. At the time, racism was predominate amongst southern citizens, this causedRead More I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings Essay511 Words   |  3 Pagescharacter Marguerite Johnson, is influenced by a preponderance of characters including Bailey Jr. , Momma Henderson, and Mrs. Bertha Flowers. One of the primary influences is her older brother, Bailey Jr.. Momma, or Annie Henderson, the parental grandmother, also plays an important role for Maya. Additionally, Mrs. Flowers, the black aristocrat of Stamps, saves Maya during an especially difficult time. All in all, these three characters act as important role models in the development of Marguerite throughRead MoreI Know Why The Caged Bird Sings1126 Words   |  5 PagesMaya Angelou was a gifted woman with one of the greatest voices of African American literature. Previously known as Marguerite Johnson, she was one of the most important women of our time. She was best known for her autobiography I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings. Not only wa s Maya Angelou able to overcome all the racial discriminations and interferences that she endured growing up, she was also able to prove to many people what a successful African American author and activist she was. She was a womanRead MoreAnalysis Of The Story Mother Of Maya 1475 Words   |  6 Pages Assignment 1: 1. Marguerite Johnson: Marguerite changed her name to Maya Angelou. Maya is the main character and the story is told from her point of view as this is an autobiography. She is a very intelligent girl, though she often isolates herself and escapes into reading. Maya soon becomes an independent and wise woman. Bailey Johnson Jr. : Bailey is the older brother of Maya. He is older by a year. He is mature and intelligent like Maya. He tends to be protective and shows compassionRead MoreAnalysis Of Sherman Alexie s Indian Education 1330 Words   |  6 Pagesby Maya Angelou about a young woman named Marguerite Johnson who was proud of her background being â€Å"Negro† even if it included some unfairness. Throughout history discrimination against one because of their background has led to many disagreements and act of violence for fairness. Not only discriminated, some have a set epitome of what they should be to fit in. No matter the discrimination, background is something to be proud of, which Junior and Marguerite were. In â€Å"Indian Education†, Junior wentRead MoreMaya Angelou884 Words   |  4 PagesAngelou, her â€Å"dirty like mud† skin was a reason not only for her timid attitude, but for the oppression she faced by white people. More so, the use of similes and metaphors also display to the audience how skin colour was a focal point of Angelou’s life in the way she felt connected to her family, but isolated from all others. Angelou’s main purpose for writing this piece was to show that despite how society believed her skin colour was a shortcoming, her individuality became a symbol of strengthRead MoreA Brief Biography of Maya Angelou746 Words   |  3 PagesMaya Angelou born April 4, 1928 is an American author and poet. She was born with the name Marguerite Ann Johnson in St. Louis, Missouri. Her parents were Bailey Johnson, doorman and a navy dietitian and Vivian Johnson, a nurse and card dealer. When Angleous older brother, Bailey Jr. was four and Angelou was 3 years old their mother and fathers marriage ended and the children were sent to live with their grandmother in Stamps, Arkansas. Even though it was during the Great Depression and WorldRead MoreI Know Why The Caged Bird Sings Essay1097 Words   |  5 Pages Maya Angelou was considered numerus things during her life she was an author, poet, actor, director, singer, dancer, writer and civil rights activist. She was considered one of the most renowned and influential voices of current views. She is one of the few recognisable civil rights activist working right beside Martin Luther Jr and many other leaders including presidents. Working in the Reagan and Bush ad ministry. She wrought a best-selling auto biography â€Å"I know why the caged bird sings†. Trough-out

Lamb The Gospel According to Biff, Christ’s Childhood Pal Chapter 9 Free Essays

string(24) " clouds across the sky\." Part II Change Jesus was a good guy, he didn’t need this shit. JOHN PRINE Chapter 9 I should have had a plan before I tried to escape from the hotel room, I see that now. At the time, dashing out the door and into the arms of sweet freedom seemed like plan enough. We will write a custom essay sample on Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ’s Childhood Pal Chapter 9 or any similar topic only for you Order Now I got as far as the lobby. It is a fine lobby, as grand as any palace, but in the way of freedom, I need more. I noticed before Raziel dragged me back into the elevator, nearly dislocating my shoulder in the process, that there were an inordinate number of old people in the lobby. In fact, compared to my time, there are inordinate numbers of old people everywhere – well, not on TV, but everywhere else. Have you people forgotten how to die? Or have you used up all of the young people on television so there’s nothing left but gray hair and wrinkled flesh? In my time, if you had seen forty summers it was time to start thinking about moving on, making room for the youngsters. If you lasted to fifty the mourners would give you dirty looks when they passed, as if you were purposely trying to put them out of business. The Torah says that Moses lived to be 120 years old. I’m guessing that the children of Israel were following him just to see when he would drop. There wa s probably betting. If I do manage to escape the angel, I’m not going to be able to make my living as a professional mourner, not if you people don’t have the courtesy to die. Just as well, I suppose, I’d have to learn all new dirges. I’ve tried to get the angel to watch MTV so I can learn the vocabulary of your music, but even with the gift of tongues, I’m having trouble learning to speak hip-hop. Why is it that one can busta rhyme or busta move anywhere but you must busta cap in someone’s ass? Is â€Å"ho† always feminine, and â€Å"muthafucka† always masculine, while â€Å"bitch† can be either? How many peeps in a posse, how much booty before baby got back, do you have to be all that to get all up in that, and do I need to be dope and phat to be da bomb or can I just be â€Å"stupid†? I’ll not be singing over any dead mothers until I understand. The journey. The quest. The search for the Magi. We traveled first to the coast. Neither Joshua nor I had ever seen the sea before, so as we topped a hill near the city of Ptolomais, and the endless aquamarine of the Mediterranean stretched before us, Joshua fell to his knees and gave thanks to his father. â€Å"You can almost see the edge of the world,† Joshua said. I squinted into the dazzling sun, really looking for the edge of the world. â€Å"It looks sort of curved,† I said. â€Å"What?† Joshua scanned the horizon, but evidently he didn’t see the curve. â€Å"The edge of the world looks curved. I think it’s round.† â€Å"What’s round?† â€Å"The world. I think it’s round.† â€Å"Of course it’s round, like a plate. If you go to the edge you fall off. Every sailor knows that,† Joshua said with great authority. â€Å"Not round like a plate, round like a ball.† â€Å"Don’t be silly,† Joshua said. â€Å"If the world was round like a ball then we would slide off of it.† â€Å"Not if it’s sticky,† I said. Joshua lifted his foot and looked at the bottom of his sandal, then at me, then at the ground. â€Å"Sticky?† I looked at the bottom of my own shoe, hoping to perhaps see strands of stickiness there, like melted cheese tethering me to the ground. When your best friend is the son of God, you get tired of losing every argument. â€Å"Just because you can’t see it, doesn’t mean the world is not sticky.† Joshua rolled his eyes. â€Å"Let’s go swimming.† He took off down the hill. â€Å"What about the God?† I asked. â€Å"You can’t see him.† Joshua stopped halfway down the hill and held his arms out to the shining, aquamarine sea. â€Å"You can’t?† â€Å"That’s a crappy argument, Josh.† I followed him down the hill, shouting as I went. â€Å"If you’re not going to try, I’m not going to argue with you anymore. So, what if stickiness is like God? You know, how He abandons our people and leads them into slavery whenever we stop believing in Him. Stickiness could be like that. You could float off into the sky any time now because you don’t believe in stickiness.† â€Å"It’s good that you have something to believe in, Biff. I’m going in the water.† He ran down the beach, shedding his clothes as he went, then dove into the surf, naked. Later, after we’d both swallowed enough salt water to make us sick, we headed up the coast to the city of Ptolemais. â€Å"I didn’t think it would be so salty,† Joshua said. â€Å"Yeah,† I said, â€Å"you’d never know it by looking at it.† â€Å"Are you still angry about your round-earth-stickiness theory?† â€Å"I don’t expect you to understand,† I said, sounding very mature, I thought. â€Å"You being a virgin and all.† Joshua stopped and grabbed my shoulder, forcing me to wheel around and face him. â€Å"The night you spent with Maggie I spent praying to my father to take away the thoughts of you two. He didn’t answer me. It was like trying to sleep on a bed of thorns. Since we left I was beginning to forget, or at least leave it behind, but you keep throwing it in my face.† â€Å"You’re right,† I said. â€Å"I forgot how sensitive you virgins can be.† Then, once again, and not for the last time, the Prince of Peace coldcocked me. A bony, stonecutter’s fist just over my right eye. He hit harder than I remembered. I remember white seabirds in the sky above me, and just a wisp of clouds across the sky. You read "Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ’s Childhood Pal Chapter 9" in category "Essay examples" I remember the frothy surf sloshing over my face, leaving sand in my ears. I remember thinking that I should get up and smite Josh upside the head. I remember thinking then that if I got up, Josh might hit me again, so I lay there for a moment, just thinking. â€Å"So, what do you want?† I said, finally, from my wet and sandy supinity. He stood over me with his fists balled. â€Å"If you’re going to keep bringing it up, you have to tell me the details.† â€Å"I can do that.† â€Å"And don’t leave anything out.† â€Å"Nothing?† â€Å"I’ve got to know if I’m going to understand sin.† â€Å"Okay, can I get up? My ears are filling with sand.† He helped me to my feet and as we entered the seaside city of Ptolomais, I taught Josh about sex. Down narrow stone streets between high stone walls. â€Å"Well, most of what we learned from the rabbis was not exactly accurate.† Past men sitting outside their houses, mending their nets. Children selling cups of pomegranate juice, women hanging strings of fish from window to window to dry. â€Å"For instance, you know that part right after Lot’s wife gets turned to stone and then his daughters get drunk and fornicate with him?† â€Å"Right, after Sodom and Gomorrah are destroyed.† â€Å"Well, that’s not as bad as it sounds,† I said. We passed Phoenician women who sang as they pounded dried fish into meal. We passed evaporation pools where children scraped the encrusted salt from the rocks and put it into bags. â€Å"But fornication is a sin, and fornication with your daughters, well, that’s a, I don’t know, that’s a double-dog sin.† â€Å"Yeah, but if you put that aside for a second, and you just focus on the two young girls aspect of it, it’s not nearly as bad as it sounds initially.† â€Å"Oh.† We passed merchants selling fruit and bread and oil, spices and incense, calling out claims of quality and magic in their wares. There was a lot of magic for sale in those days. â€Å"And the Song of Solomon, that’s a lot closer, and you can sort of understand Solomon having a thousand wives. In fact, with you being the Son of God and all, I don’t think you’d have any problem getting that many girls. I mean, after you figure out what you’re doing.† â€Å"And a lot of girls is a good thing?† â€Å"You’re a ninny, aren’t you?† â€Å"I thought you’d be more specific. What does Maggie have to do with Lot and Solomon?† â€Å"I can’t tell you about me and Maggie, Josh. I just can’t.† We were passing a lick of prostitutes gathered outside the door of an inn. Their faces were painted, their skirts slit up the side to show their legs glistening with oil, and they called to us in foreign languages and made tiny dances with their hands as we passed. â€Å"What the hell are they saying?† I asked Joshua. He was better with languages. I think they were speaking Greek. â€Å"They said something about how they like Hebrew boys because we can feel a woman’s tongue better without our foreskins.† He looked at me as if I might confirm or deny this. â€Å"How much money do we have?† I asked. The inn rented rooms, stalls, and space under the eave to sleep. We rented two adjacent stalls, which was a bit of a luxury for us, but an important one for Joshua’s education. After all, weren’t we on this journey so he could learn to take his rightful place as the Messiah? â€Å"I’m not sure if I should watch,† Joshua said. â€Å"Remember David was running over the roofs and happened onto Bathsheba in her bath. That set a whole chain of sin in motion.† â€Å"But listening won’t be a problem.† â€Å"I don’t think it’s the same thing.† â€Å"Are you sure that you don’t want to try this yourself, Josh? I mean, the angel was never clear about your being with a woman.† To be honest, I was a little frightened myself. My experience with Maggie hardly qualified me to be with a harlot. â€Å"No, you go ahead. Just describe what’s happening and what you’re feeling. I have to understand sin.† â€Å"Okay, if you insist.† â€Å"Thank you for doing this for me, Biff.† â€Å"Not just for you, Josh, for our people.† So that’s how we ended up with the two stalls. Josh would be in one while I, along with the harlot of my choice, instructed him from the other in the fine art of fornication. Back out at the front of the inn I shopped for my teaching assistant. It was an eight-harlot inn, if that’s how you measure an inn. (I understand that now they measure inns in stars. We are in a four-star inn right now. I don’t know what the conversion from harlots to stars is.) Anyway, there were eight harlots outside the inn that day. They ranged in age from only a few years older than us to older than our mothers. And they ran the gamut of shapes and sizes, having in common only that they were all highly painted and well oiled. â€Å"They’re all so†¦so nasty-looking.† â€Å"They’re harlots, Biff. They’re supposed to be nasty-looking. Pick one.† â€Å"Let’s go look at some different harlots.† We had been standing a few doors down from the harlots, but they knew we were watching. I walked over and stopped close to a particularly tall harlot and said, â€Å"Excuse me, do you know where we might find a different selection of harlots? No offense, it’s just that my friend and I†¦Ã¢â‚¬  And she pulled open her blouse, exposing full breasts that were glistening with oil and flecks of mica, and she threw her skirt aside and stepped up so a long leg slid behind me and I could feel the rough hair between her legs grinding against my hip and her rouged nipples brushed my cheek and in that instant profound wood did from my person protrude. â€Å"This one will be fine, Josh.† The other harlots let loose with an exaltation of ululation as we led my harlot away. (You know ululation as the sound an ambulance makes. That I get an erection every time one passes the hotel would seem morbid if you didn’t know this story of how Biff Hires a Harlot.) The harlot’s name was Set. She was a head and a half taller than me, with skin the color of a ripe date, wide brown eyes flecked with gold, and hair so black that it reflected blue in the dim light of the stable. She was the perfect harlot design, wide where a harlot should be wide, narrow where a harlot should be narrow, delicate of ankle and neck, sturdy of conscience, intrepid and single-minded of goal once she was paid. She was an Egyptian, but she had learned Greek and a little Latin to help lubricate the discourse of her trade. Our situation required more creativity than she seemed accustomed to, but after a heavy sigh she mumbled something about â€Å"if you fuck a Hebrew, make room in the bed fo r his guilt,† then pulled me into my stall and closed the gate. (Yes, the stalls were used for animals. There was a donkey in the stall opposite Josh’s.) â€Å"So what’s she doing?† Josh asked. â€Å"She’s taking off my clothes.† â€Å"What now.† â€Å"She’s taking off her clothes. Oh jeez. Ouch.† â€Å"What? Are you fornicating?† â€Å"No. She’s rubbing her whole body over mine, sort of lightly. When I try to move she smacks me in the face.† â€Å"How does it feel?† â€Å"How do you think? It feels like someone smacking you, you twit.† â€Å"I mean how does her body feel? Do you feel sinful? Is it like Satan rubbing against you? Does it burn like fire?† â€Å"Yeah, you got it. That pretty much has it.† â€Å"You’re lying.† â€Å"Oh wow.† Then Josh said something in Greek that I didn’t catch all of and the harlot answered, sort of. â€Å"What did she say?† Josh asked. â€Å"I don’t know, you know my Greek is bad.† â€Å"Mine isn’t, I couldn’t understand what she said.† â€Å"Her mouth is full.† Set raised up. â€Å"Not full,† she said in Greek. â€Å"Hey, I understood that!† â€Å"She has you in her mouth?† â€Å"Yeah.† â€Å"That’s heinous.† â€Å"It doesn’t feel heinous.† â€Å"It doesn’t?† â€Å"No, Josh, I gotta tell you, this really is – oh my God!† â€Å"What? What’s happening?† â€Å"She’s getting dressed.† â€Å"Are you done sinning? That’s it?† The harlot said something in Greek that I didn’t understand. â€Å"What did she say?† I asked. â€Å"She said that for the amount of money we gave her, you’re finished.† â€Å"Do you think you understand fornication now?† â€Å"Not really.† â€Å"Well then, give her some more money, Joshua. We’re going to stay here until you learn what you need to know.† â€Å"You’re a good friend to suffer this for me.† â€Å"Don’t mention it.† â€Å"No, really,† Joshua said. â€Å"Greater love hath no man, than he lay down for his friend.† â€Å"That’s a good one, Josh. You should remember that one for later.† The harlot then spoke at length. â€Å"You want to know what this is like for me, kid? This is like a job. Which means that if you want it done, you need to pay for it. That’s what it’s like.† (Joshua would translate for me later.) â€Å"What’d she say?† I asked. â€Å"She wants the wages of sin.† â€Å"Which are?† â€Å"In this case, three shekels.† â€Å"That’s a bargain. Pay her.† Much as I tried – and I did try – I didn’t seem able to convey to Joshua what it was he wanted to know. I went through a half-dozen more harlots and a large portion of our traveling money over the next week, but he still didn’t understand. I suggested that perhaps this was one of the things that the magician Balthasar was supposed to teach Joshua. Truth be told, I’d developed a burning sensation when I peed and I was ready for a break from tutoring my friend in the fine art of sinning. It’s a week or less by sea if we go to Selucia, then it’s less than a day’s walk inland to Antioch,† Joshua said, after he had been talking to some sailors who were drinking at the inn. â€Å"Overland it’s two to three weeks.† â€Å"By sea, then,† I said. Pretty brave, I thought, considering I’d never set foot in a boat in my life. We found a wide-beamed, raised-stern Roman cargo ship bound for Tarsus that would stop at all the ports along the way, including Selucia. The ship’s master was a wiry, hatchet-faced Phoenician named Titus Inventius, who claimed to have gone to sea when he was four and sailed to the edge of the world twice before his balls dropped, although what one had to do with the other I never figured out. â€Å"What can you do? What’s your trade?† Titus asked, from under a great straw hat he wore while watching the slaves load jars of wine and oil onto the ship. His eyes were black beads set back in caves of wrinkles formed by a lifetime of squinting into the sun. â€Å"Well, I’m a stonemason and he’s the Son of God.† I grinned. I thought that would give us more diversity than just saying we were two stonemasons. Titus pushed the straw hat back on his head and looked Joshua up and down. â€Å"Son of God, huh? How’s that pay?† Joshua scowled at me. â€Å"I know stone work and carpentry, and we both have strong backs.† â€Å"There’s not a lot of call for stone work aboard a ship. Have you been to sea before?† â€Å"Yes,† I said. â€Å"No,† Joshua said. â€Å"He was sick that day,† I said. â€Å"I’ve been to sea.† Titus laughed. â€Å"Fine, you go help get those jars on board. I’m taking a load of pigs as far as Sidon, you two keep them calm and keep them alive in the heat and by that time maybe you’ll be something of use to me. But it costs you as well.† â€Å"How much?† Joshua asked. â€Å"How much do you have?† â€Å"Five shekels,† I said. â€Å"Twenty shekels,† Joshua said. I elbowed the Messiah in the ribs hard enough to bend him over. â€Å"Ten shekels,† I said. â€Å"Five each, I meant before when I said five.† I felt as if I was negotiating with myself, and not doing that well. â€Å"Then ten shekels plus any work I can find for you. But if you puke on my ship, you’re over the side, you hear me? Ten shekels or not.† â€Å"Absolutely,† I said, pulling Joshua down the dock to where the slaves were loading jars. When we were out of earshot of Captain Titus, Joshua said, â€Å"You have to tell him that we’re Jews, we can’t tend pigs.† I grabbed one of the huge wine jars by the ears and started to drag it toward the ship. â€Å"It’s okay, they’re Roman pigs. They don’t care.† â€Å"Oh, all right,† Joshua said, latching onto a jar of his own and hoisting it onto his back. Then it hit him and he set the jar down again. â€Å"Hey, wait, that’s not right.† The next morning we sailed with the tide. Joshua, me, a crew of thirty, Titus, and fifty allegedly Roman pigs. Until we cast off from the dock – Josh and I manning one of the long oars – and we were well out of the harbor; until we had shipped the oars and the great square sail was ballooned over the deck like the belly of a gluttonous genie; until Joshua and I climbed to the rear of the ship where Titus stood on the raised deck manning one of the two long steering oars and I looked back toward land, and could see not a city but a speck on the horizon; until then, I had no idea that I had a deep-seated fear of sailing. â€Å"We are way too far away from land,† I said. â€Å"Way too far. You really need to steer closer to the land, Titus.† I pointed to land, in case Titus was unsure as to which way he should go. It makes sense, don’t you think? I mean, I grew up in an arid country, inland, where even the rivers are little more than damp ditches. My people come from the desert. The one time we actually had to cross a sea, we walked. Sailing seemed, well, unnatural. â€Å"If the Lord had meant us to sail we would have been born with, uh, masts,† I said. â€Å"That’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever said,† said Joshua. â€Å"Can you swim?† asked Titus. â€Å"No,† I said. â€Å"Yes he can,† Joshua said. Titus grabbed me by the back of the neck and threw me over the stern of the ship. How to cite Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ’s Childhood Pal Chapter 9, Essay examples