Poetry Books by Francis Mahony

Francis Mahony Books, Francis Mahony poetry book The Identities and Practices of High Achieving Pupils Authors: Becky Francis, Barbara Read, Christine Skelton
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing
Published Date: 2012-02-02
Categories: Education
How do some students manage to excel in their studies and be popular while other high achievers are treated as social outcasts? This lively and accessible text looks at the relationships between gender, race and social class, and attainment and popularity, for high-achieving pupils. The internationally renowned authors present a lucid theoretical framework that reflects the complexity of these issues, placing them within the broader context of the policies that cause and constrain particular behaviours among teachers and pupils. The authors draw together empirical data, bringing the realities of young people to life and presenting the lessons that can be learnt to enhance the educational achievement of all students. It is an engaging text for advanced undergraduate and postgraduate students exploring the debates on identity and achievement.

Francis Mahony Books, Francis Mahony poetry book Chief O'Neill's Sketchy Recollections of an Eventful Life in Chicago Authors: Francis O'Neill
Publisher: Northwestern University Press
Published Date: 2008-01-18
Categories: Biography & Autobiography
This remarkable memoir of immigration and assimilation provides a rare view of urban life in Chicago in the late 1800s by a newcomer to the city and the Midwest, and the nation as well. Francis O'Neill left Ireland in 1865. After five years traveling the world as a sailor, he and his family settled in Chicago just shortly before the Great Fire of 1871. His memoir also brings to life the challenges involved in succeeding in a new land, providing for his family, and integrating into a new culture. Francis O Neill serves as a fine documentarian of the Irish immigrant experience in Chicago. "



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Poem of the day

Wilfrid Scawen Blunt Poem
A Woman-s Sonnets: Ii
 by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

Nay, dear one, ask me not to leave thee yet.
Let me a little longer hold thy hand.
Too soon it is to bid me to forget
The joys I was so late to understand.
The future holds but a blank face for me,
The past is all confused with tears and grey,
But the sweet present, while thy smiles I see,
Is perfect sunlight, an unclouded day.
...

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