Make this day THE day!

Author's Note: In this piece I examine the significance of a quote from the ancient Greek philosopher and poet, Horace. This was something I heard long ago and it has stuck with me and returned to me many times in my life.

Carpe Diem. This two word phrase from an ancient poem is often translated into "seize the day". Too often people forget or fail to realize the importance of making the most of life has to offer.  What do you do to "grab the bull by its' horns", or control your own destiny? How to you live life to the fullest, making sure that no regret occurs?

Those individuals who set a course in life often find themselves where they want to be; on the way to a satisfying future, and those who let life dictate a course often find themselves where they do not want to be, or are dissatisfied with the course.  Should we all hope to or wait to "win the lottery" and become millionaires, or should we set our sights on a goal, work to reach it, and relish in its' glory?

If there is one thing I have come to understand in my years is that if I have a desire to do something and be successful, then I need to fully engage in the task, setting aside all other distraction; if I fail to do this, then I leave success to chance and luck.

I often think of another not so famous discussion from a movie of the late seventies where an older gentleman is discussing the future of a boy who is soon to go off to college.  In essence, the man says to the boy: where do you want to be: owning the lumber yard or working for it?  What will it be for you?

It Will ...

Author's Note:  I was inspired by a quote I saw in the workout facility NXLevel, a place where many successful athletes train at a high level.  I tried to connect with the quotes in hopes if inspiring other as well.

It will take sacrifice,
It will take courage,
It will take dedication;
It will take you where you want to go.

The definition of the word "it" in the above quote holds a multitude of meanings.  Often found on the walls of buildings where successful people work or play, this quote may guide an individual towards reaching great heights in their goal setting. I fully understand the difficulties people face each day, yet I can't help wonder why some people rise to the occasion, while others cower and find excuses why they fail or are unsuccessful. In my time as a husband, father, son, brother, teacher, student, athlete, and friend, I have come to see the reality of what hard work means and what the results of hard work can be. My goal is, an will always be to have a positive influence on as many others as I can.

The individual who works, wins; the individual who wins, works, often times working many times harder than other people.  One thing can be said: "it" is much more than a pronoun, more than a vowel and a consonant and much more than nothing!

"Effort is only effort when it begins to hurt!"  Jose Ortega y Gasset

“The only place success comes before work is in the dictionary.”  Vincent T. Lombardi

"It is hard to beat a person who never gives up." Babe Ruth

"Dream big; work hard!" JJ Watt

The Bad Side of Winter Weather...

Author's Note: In this piece I take a look at the pessimistic side of wintry weather here in Wisconsin.  Try to imagine yourself sitting with me in the passenger's seat during my journey to Chicago.  

The traffic on I-94 was moving at a snail’s pace for over an hour and a half.  I knew I was going to be late for my meeting in Chicago, but there was nothing I could do.  I already left for work an hour and a half early, at 5:00 am, instead of the usual 6:30 am departure time. I had prepared for the “big snow” the forecasters had predicted.  John Milan said on his weather cast the night before that, “Winds will be blustery, often reaching speeds of 15 to 25 miles per hour; snow will fall at a pace of 2 to 2.5 inches per hour, with temperatures hovering around 29 degrees.” I left early, my car was fully gassed-up and I wasn’t going to let bad drivers upset me. Already we had five inches of wet, sloppy snow on the roads which made them as glossy as a skating rink, and this as just the morning rush hour! It was going to snow all day, or so they said. This was nothing new for Wisconsinites.  We are supposed to be accustomed to this kind of weather, yet too many treat snow-storms like they are newborns first tasting something tart.  They get that sour-apple look on their faces and then begin the commute process.  Some drive too fast, some drive way too slow, but most just drive like they have never seen snow before in their life, and then panic at the sight of another car or truck.  I knew that this trip would be slow, so I just sat back, turned up the radio and had another sip of coffee, knowing that eventually I would get to work. 

And the Ideal Side of Wintry Weather

Author's Note: Take note of the semantic devices and figurative language used within this creative, yet reflective piece. I actually spent nine days in 1987 skiing the various resorts in Colorado, with many great memories etched into my brain forever. 

Standing at the top of the ski run at Snowmass Mountain, with my ski tips pointing downward, I knew it was the one place in all the world where I was at peace.  The crisp, cold morning air that was biting at my nose was filled with billions of snowflakes which were gently falling to the ground like tiny parachutes, adding to the already feet of snow that had come this winter season. The dead silence of the morning was barely interrupted by the sometimes haunting sound of the wind rushing through the pine trees. At this time of the morning, the golden sun is just peaking over the top of the eastern horizon, creating a painting like those found in the great art galleries of the world.  For miles and miles, all you can see are “snow capped” mountains, some with their peaks hidden from view by the low-lying clouds.  Dotting those peaks were tall evergreen trees, which looked like soldiers standing guard at the gates of heaven. While I stood atop the peak at the beginning of the “diamond run”, sipping my “morning cup of Joe”, I was not sure what I was going to do the rest of the day, nor did I really care what the plans might be, but I knew that if I did nothing else today, I would be OK with that plan!  

The Memories of Winter

Author's Note: That time of year, special for all, is described in this poem. Look for the memories you may have within this festive prose.


When the snowy time of year appears,
our friends and family draw near,

To grandma and grandpa’s can be heard,
the sound of children and their joyous word,

Gathered round the table, each with cup in hand,
this time of year, how it is so grand!

Steaming cups of coco, warm to hands and hearts to be,
a plate of cut-out cookies, a delight to for all to see,

Snowmen, Santas, reindeer, trees  and bells,
a different shape, with magnificent colors and smells,

Pick yours, then pass the rest, at this magical family fest,
that snowy time of year, certainly better than all the rest!

An Icy Ride, Repeated Over and Over

Author's Note: This decriptive piece was done at this year's Young Author's and Artist's Conference, the 25th annual. We were asked to react to a work of art and reflect upon what it reminded us of. Please note the use of descriptive language decribing my vacation of spring 2012.

Water that is 44 degrees is not the kind one would choose to bath in, to wash one’s face with, or to dip your toes in, even on a hot summer day.  That temperature brings about thoughts of crisp and cold mornings in November and December, and on into January and February in the region of the United States we call the Midwest. Perhaps this is why so many people who live in the more northern regions of the U.S. choose to migrate south for days, weeks and even months at a time.  It is in this part of the country where the temperature of the air remains warm for most of the year: welcoming to our unbundled and uncovered skin exposed to the summer-like air. This warmth we feel is the opposite of what those in the north experience for the better parts of five months: the cold, wet, icy months we describe as winter. Somehow that 44 degree water seems inviting, almost tempting, when the surrounding air is near ninety degrees, even in the shade: a place where the cold and icy reminders of winter meet the warm and inviting feelings of summer.  Slide Rock State Park, near Sedona, Arizona is where the swift flow of fresh snow-melt waters acts as a magnet to the curious, the adventurous, and the unknowing. Here the experience of that 44 degree water can be etched on our skin and soaked into our bones as visitors slip down the narrow waterway created by the erosion of centuries of spring and summer snow runoff from the mountains of southern Arizona.

Stepping into the water at first is breathtaking, but not the breathtaking feeling of a Miami Beach sunrise, or a San Francisco Golden Gate Bridge sunset in all of their colorful and symbolic beauty. Oak Creek’s icy-cold water literally takes your breath away, almost paralyzing you when you first step in, and yet your feet up to your ankles are the only parts of your body exposed to the water! Never mind sitting down slowly, because most would not even attempt to sit.  The best way to become one with the water is to jump right in, demanding that your body adjust in an instant to the shock of the change.  It is hard to keep from crying out once the water covers your legs and torso, yet most everyone who does take the plunge gives forth a moaning “ohhhhhh”, along with the facial contortions that go along with grandma squeezing your cheeks when she firsts greets you on a visit. With your hands raised high in the air, you begin your decent from the top to the bottom of the smooth-rock slide. Your journey only takes 20 or so seconds, but is seems like an eternity, mostly due to the cold water stinging your body anywhere it touches. Yet once you reach the bottom, where the rushing water slows and forms a pool, only then do you have time to react, and swim to the side of the natural pool.  Grasping the rock edge, you pull yourself out of the water so that the sun and air can warm your body.  But somehow and for no particular reason, you do it all over again because the ride down the slide was that great!

Roger Becomes...

Author's Note:  In this piece, an alternative ending was created for the Langston Hughes short story "Thank You Ma'am". By using text evidence and prediction skills based upon logical events, I have envisioned a place where the main character, Roger, might gravitate towards as he grows older. 

Startled by the sound of the door slamming behind him, Roger almost fell from the stoop.  Reflecting on what had just happened to him in the last hour or so, the boy thought about the things she said to him; the things she did for him and how her “words of wisdom” changed his view of what he wanted to do with his life. Then, proudly he yelled so all could hear, even though it was well past one a.m., “Thank you Mrs. Luella Bates Washington Jones, I won’t let you down!” 

As he meandered down the streets dimly lit by the poor lighting of the neighborhood, Roger said to himself that he wanted to do things in his life the way the older woman would do them: helping those in need. There were plenty of those kinds of kids, friends of his, in the neighborhood: the kind who had no direction, no role models, and no hope. The boy felt that this was his chance to make a difference in his community. But could he change the lives of kids who didn’t want to change, those kids who had managed to set their course in life already?

Roger new it would be a challenge to be positive in a world surrounding him where despair and little hope existed, yet he knew this could not deter him from his goal: to be a role model for his friends and the “little ones” in the surrounding neighborhood. Helping those kids who didn't have a parent figure to guide them, to give them advice, or to provide them a meal when they were hungry was something Roger could do, as Mrs. Luella Bates Washington Jones had done for him.

Living the life of a thief was no way to grow up, and he was going to make sure that Jimmy and Robert, his two best friends, along with the countless kids on the streets, would not go down the path so many of their older friends chose: the life that lead to despair and depression, the life of the criminal element.  He was going to make a difference, for himself and others, today!

To Be a Champion

Author's Note: Winning that special game as a young boy can be a memorable event in the eyes and mind of any athlete.  A city baseball championship is the pinnacle event for any boy's summer.  Pay attention to the details I have provided readers in this narrative and descriptive piece.

Winning, we are told, isn't everything, but to a teenage boy playing summer baseball, it sure can be sweet.  It most certainly was this season, the summer of my 7th to 8th grade year, 1974 to be exact. I was a member of the top baseball team in Waukesha Park and Rec baseball.  We were city champions when it was all said and done, winning convincingly in the championship game vs the south side Roberta Park players, the "A's". Winning was indeed everything this particular summer.

The "Twins", comprised mostly of kids from the Dopp Park area of Waukesha, which is near the hospital, was an amazing group of players.  We had two solid pitchers who had mastered the curve ball and off speed pitch, along with nasty fastballs, and a catcher, myself, who could handle the challenging aspects of what happens when a curve pitch drops two and a half feet through the strike zone.  The coaches knew I could handle the pressure of each pitch by the way they instructed me to call the game.  Along with great pitching, our hitters were phenomenal for young boys of 12 and 13 years old.  This was largely due to our daily pick-up baseball games for months on end prior to the season.  Many a baseball we wore out, eventually wrapping the ball of string in masking tape after the leather cover had torn off  to keep the games going. This scenario was much like the famous movie "The Sandlot", minus the big dog and junkyard.  

With the undefeated regular season complete and the playoffs in full swing, the championship game was next upon us. "Steve, today's game will be a tough one because these guys are great hitters; we need you and John to be on your 'A' games today", said the coaches.  John was our older, more control oriented pitcher.  He would lead the game off by pitching the first five or six innings, and we would conclude with Tim, our "fireballer" in the seventh. When Tim, our younger pitcher, enters a game, the entire team knows that victory is certain that day.

The final game began like most others that year: our first six hitters rocked the ball hard, scoring six runs in the first four innings.  Defensively we were strong as well, only allowing one runner to get to second base on a bloop double down the first base line in the third inning.  John had six "K's" by this time, well on his way to his usual "double digit" strike out game.  When the fifth inning came around, a lead off homer by the"A's" first basemen, a sense of urgency was felt by our team.  Not really the worrying kind, I felt things were well at hand; this was proven by our shutout innings which followed this "fluke" homer.

Confidently our team reached the final inning up by five runs with our "closer" entering the game.  As the what would be the last batter of the contest walked up to the plate, our fans cheering loudly for the final out, I raised my hand with two fingers held high, yelling to my team, "two down, who wants the last out?"  With that call, Tim gave me a "no problem" look and proceeded to nail three straight strikes, the last being the most nasty curve ball I had seen that day.  When the umpire cried "strike three", and the batter looked bewildered as to path of that "cliff-dropping" pitch, the championship was won!

My fist flew up towards the sky with the game ball in my glove, as I ran towards the player's mob at the pitcher's mound.  We had done it; despite various setbacks we had to overcome: the family vacations which caused kids to miss games, the rain outs which caused us to play three games in five days one week, and the loss of our starting second baseman due to injury, the Twins were Waukesha City League Champions.  This season, especially this day, would be etched in the record books, along with the minds of the young men who played that day on the winning team.

Good or Bad Choices

Author's Note: In this PERSONAL NARRATIVE piece I tried to use a connective introduction "hook" so that it would return in my conclusion.  I want the reader to feel as though they are right next to me and the other persons in the story. Also, pay attention to the dialogue in the piece to see if it seems realistic.  

Choosing the right friends, or the people we hang out with, can be a very trying time in life for young people.  At first some kids might seem like fun people to hang out with, but if you look more closely at who or what they really are, life on their path may not be the choice you really want to make.  It is here that you may feel the swift kick in the butt that many youngsters experience or NEED to experience in their lives. This is the way it was in my early school years, from second to third grade. 

The neighborhood was littered with different kinds of kids, but the sort who seemed to be the most interesting were the ones who very likely did the more mischievous things.  Whether it was playing "dingdong ditchit" in the neighboring apartment buildings, throwing rocks at the passing train on the nearby tracks, or stealing the small "slugs" from the electrical boxes that were in the "new constructions" underway in the apartments behind our building,  with this crowd,  mischief was around every corner. 

It was then that the neighbor Kurt began to influence some of the decisions I was going to make in the next few months.  He lived down the street in the duplexes north of our apartments on Scott Street and had the coolest "banana seat" bike in the land, purple in color with high chrome handlebars and a black seat.  Kurt never seemed to have to be anywhere specific, always a carefree kid who hung around everyone else because, we came to find out later on, his parents both worked and left him alone from 6 am to 6 pm every day.  "Come on Steve, let's go to the dump," Kurt said one summer day.  We jumped on our bikes and started our ride down to the dump near the end of the street we lived on.  I should have turned around that minute when Kurt said, "wait, I have to get something from my house first."  I wasn't sure what it was he was going to get, but if I could have predicted what it was, I am sure I would have been close. 

After interrupting our journey briefly, we were soon to be off on our trek.  "I got it." exclaimed Kurt, as he ran from his house.  I could not see what "it" was, but only time would tell.  I probably could have guessed right then this "it" was not going to be good, as Kurt had always seemed to have "something up his sleeve" so to speak.  When we arrived at the dump, we jumped off our bikes and proceeded to the spot where the old refrigerators and stoves were piled.  This was a great place to practice our rock throwing skills, something most young boys work at daily in the summer, especially where rocks were plenty.  Kurt became quickly bored with rocks and wanted to "fire" things up.  "Look what I have Steve," Kurt said in a dangerous voice.  "What are those?" I asked, not knowing, but yet really knowing what was next.  "Watch this," Kurt said.  He then proceeded to pull out a "zippo" lighter and lighted the small-finger sized tube.  "Run," he hollered.  I knew this would be no good as soon as he cried run.  Off we sprinted, far enough away; safe from the impending result.  KABOOM!  The door to the refrigerator blew off it's hinges in a mini mushroom cloud of smoke and flames 15 to 20 feet in the air.  Kurt had somehow gotten his hand on some kind of explosive; come to find out, he had taken from his dad's work truck.  Kurt's dad was in construction, which provided Kurt with a multitude of "trouble" opportunities. He had stolen the half-stick of dynamite the night before from his dad's truck and wanted to have an early 4th of July blast. 

Right then, that day, I should have parted ways with Kurt, but what 8 year old would think that far down the line.  Could I have known Kurt would introduce me to cigarettes and all sorts of trouble in the coming months? Absolutely not. My parents didn't smoke and for sure they had raised me to be smarter than this, or so I thought.  Hindsight is 20-20 we are told, but for a young, impressionable boy, fun was a yet undefined word.  Somehow that "kick in the butt" didn't come soon enough for  me because I had to learn the hard way that being friends with the wrong kids can lead to trouble times one-hundred.

Semantic Devices Powerpoint

Semantic Devices Powerpoint

A New Year For Many Reasons Indeed

Author's Note: I have come to understand that the demons that prevent us from reaching our goals can and are eliminated if we first overcome initial fears and obstacles.  In this piece readers may see what I have done to overcome an obstacle in my life, allowing me to be free from pain and suffering.

Happy New Year to all of you!  2012 will surely bring about many new changes for all as we meet new friends, face new challenges and experience emotional ups and downs.  As I read the many short writing pieces from my students, I try to remember one thing that guides all of us: the dreams we have CAN become a reality if one sets their sights on a prize, a goal, or in essence, our dream.  One clear dream that I have is to be able to live life pain free, void of the daily grinding, no pun intended, associated with an arthritic hip.

My hip replacement surgery of December 19th, 2011 went according to plan and I am currently well on the road to recovery and a more healthy life. As I have heard from so many people in discussing the surgery, the statement "do you wish you had done it earlier?" has come up each time.  The resounding answer would logically be yes! If I had known earlier how good my body would feel now, I would have done something sooner, maybe at the beginning of summer in 2011.  Painfully, the last few months of the year were somewhat difficult, but that made the choice to have necessary surgery all the more wise: although viewing the procedure "online" might have made the choice not so easy as it is quite gruesome to have one's hip bone cut off, replaced with a titanium ball, and the hip socket shaved and refinished with ceramics and plastic. If you are curious as to what this procedure looks like just "google" posterior hip replacement surgery and you can see the process for yourself.

However, the results are amazing.  I am looking forward to a spring of golf and being able to walk and run with no residual pain in my body: something we all can agree is the way life should be. Many thanks go out to my colleagues at work, especially Mrs. Muench, who experience the same procedure last year, for recommending the fine surgeon Dr. Evanich, and to my co-teacher Mrs. Mundt, who helped tremendously in keeping me in the loop here at school.  I also could not have done this without the support of my wonderful family: wife Karen and sons Eric and Dan, who put up with my crankiness while I was recovering.

Long is the journey, but even longer and more permanent are the positive results! Have a safe and healthy 2012 everyone.

It's the Hap-Happiest Time of the Year!

Author's Note: It is THE most wonderful time of the year, which is why everyone should "feel the season". See if you can imagine what it is like to be part of a family gathering, a special event, or a joyous memory within this short narrative.

The anniversary of the birth of our savior, mistletoe, holiday cookies, eggnog, family gatherings, "Elf" and "Christmas Vacation": these are the many traditions and attractions revered within the Christmas season. It is a time where we reflect upon the past year and all we have done, all we have seen, and all that was.

Yet, with reflection comes renewal, rebirth and refreshing "exhale" in preparation for the future. This season, when you visit with grandma and grandpa, Uncle Larry and Aunt Ruth, along with your brother or sister you have not seen in three months, take the time to be thankful for what you have been provided.

Take time also to help someone who may not have had such a great year; make their life a little better by doing that small, thoughtful thing to make life more meaningful for them: whether it is donating food at your local food pantry, volunteering at the local "kettle ringing" or joining an impromptu group to sing Christmas carols.

Remember: "The best way to spread Christmas cheer, is singing loud for all to hear". Buddy Elf

End of the Quarter

Author's Note: Fall can be a very wonderful time of the year, for many of us. Please pay particular attention to my use of literary devices within the short paragraph reflecting on school thus far.


As we move towards the Autumn and Winter months, the ever so closer "half way" point of school becomes even more a reality. The fall sports seasons are wrapping up for high schools: yet thankfully we have Green Bay Packer football, and winter activities are beginning to take shape.

Like students entering a school, soon, if not already, hunters from across the state will enter the wooded areas around Wisconsin looking for that prize pheasant, grouse or deer. These experienced hunters usually have taken great care, planning and preparing for their respective hunts.Such experiences in the wild are ones people remember for a lifetime.

Hunters, like students may begin to see the need and importance of thinking ahead, planning for roadblocks and obstacles that may impede their progress, much like not bring your hunting license with you would affect your hunt negatively. Such experiences in school can be some of the most memorable of all! Be mindful of the need to pay attention to detail always, and your successes will certainly multiply.

Welcome to the new school year!

Author's Note: The beginning of a school year can  be a stressful time, but remember, you can make successes from what you wish each and every day in school! See if you can remember, as you read this piece, the good times you had in school.

As you venture on towards the career of your choice (yes, I understand this is a pretty "heavy" topic of discussion at this time in your life, but your future really is nearer than you think), one very important question needs to be considered: are you working towards your goal? Each and every day, we need to remember that whatever you are doing at any given time or place should, at some point, lead towards your ultimate goal. If you want to be the best soloist in the choir, the first chair in violin, the starting point guard, or the number one goal keeper, what are you doing to reach for that goal? As you move on to high school, career choices come into play: what college we will attend or what career choice will we make? The goals themselves may change, but the need to have goals in mind does not! Hold this thought as we travel down the road of middle school language arts at Asa Clark Middle School. Let the journey begin!

A Hero Who Never Intended to Be

Author's Note: This post is from a reflection piece done to satisfy our understanding, or at least an attempt to understand, why people choose to act in ways that, while brave in one sense, place themselves in great peril. Try to imagine yourself making the choice to act heroically if you are given the chance some time in your life...what will you do?

There comes a time in everyone’s life when very important decisions must be made. The choice to use drugs or not, to attend college or enter the world of work upon completion of high school, to sit passively on the side, ignoring a greater calling or to serve one’s country in the military in a time of national need. Pat Tillman, a professional football player from the NFL’s Arizona Cardinals, as described in an MSNBC.com news article, made a life changing decision after the devastating attacks in the United States on 9/11/2001 by quitting his multiyear, 3.6 million dollar contract and joining the military to defend his country. Tillman is, and will always be one of America’s true heroes that all individuals need to know more about.

A hero is defined in most cases as a person who commits an act of remarkable bravery or who has shown an admirable quality such as great courage or strength of character. Few people who have never served in the armed forces understand what bravery and commitment is required for service in our military. Pat Tillman’s choice to join the Army Rangers is an example of great courage and strength of character. Making such an important and life-changing decision, to leave the relatively safe world of America and a career as a professional athlete, despite the obvious risks involved, causes one to take notice of such people who choose the “difficult” over the “easy”. Although facing horrible conditions on the ground in Afghanistan in early 2004, Tillman, along with his brother Kevin, chose to be part of the thousands of American men and women who defend our country from the evils of the world. Sadly, Tillman and a fellow soldier were killed in a fire-fight with enemy forces 25 miles southwest of the U.S. Army base in the city of Khost, Afghanistan.

The conscious effort to be part of America’s fighting force is something to not be taken lightly. Men and women who sacrifice their lives to protect the lives of their fellow soldiers and countrymen are of the highest degree of strength of character. As a result of this tragic loss of life by Tillman and the Afghan soldier, the number of people across the country who spoke out was tremendous. From Senator John McCain, the vice president of the Arizona Cardinals, Mike Bidwell, and former teammate Jake Plummer, messages of great sorrow and honor were bestowed upon Tillman. “He was a brave man, said Bidwell. “There are very few people who have the courage to do what he did, the courage to walk away from a professional sports career and make the ultimate sacrifice.” It would be hard to find a person anywhere who would disagree. Individuals who think of others first are of the highest quality: persons who should be honored and respected due to their deep dedication and sacrifice. Perhaps they do not realize what they really become when they serve our country, but yet they should know: they are heroes in the highest degree.

In order to understand what a hero truly is, the story of Pat Tillman and his tremendous efforts need be told. When all Americans come to understand the commitment, dedication and sacrifice military personnel make, more Americans will see what heroes really are.

Is Life Fair to Everyone?

Author's Note:  This piece is designed to reach the inner thoughts of reader's minds in regards to freedoms and rights we all desire. Make note of the use of descriptive language within this piece.

Have you have ever faced a situation where you were denied access to an opportunity everyone else shares, or been wrongly accused of some act or action, all due to the fact you look or appear different from the majority? This situation, as wrong as it may be, occurs all too often in society today. Millions of individuals are prevented from reaching out and grasping the necessities of life: food, shelter, education and health care. In places like Darfur, Sudan, or Kabul, Afghanistan, these instances occur daily. Even in advanced countries like the United States and countries of the European Union, these violations of basic human rights continue to occur.

Please do not, however, confuse prejudice and bias with being held accountable for one's actions. If you choose to act out inappropriately, illegally or immorally, and you face a fair consequence for your misdeeds: the resulting action is not bias or prejudice, it is a natural consequence for your actions. Those people who choose to live on the fringe or the outer reaches of society: the criminal, the thoughtless, the sinners without repent: they are receiving what society has deemed appropriate and logical. Prejudice, remember then, treats individuals unfairly, illogically and immorally.