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Florence Beatrice Price was born in 1887 in Little Rock, Arkansas.  A mixed-race child, her family was well respected despite the racial issues of the time. Florence was taught music by her mother, and made her piano performance debut at the age of 4.

By the age of 11, Florence had published her first composition.  Three years later, she graduated high school at the top of her class and enrolled at the New England Conservatory of Music to major in piano and organ.  While there, she wrote her first string trio and symphony.  She graduated with honors in 1906, and soon moved to Atlanta, Georgia.  She became the head of Clark University’s music department at the age of 23, but soon married and moved back to Arkansas.  After a series of racial incidents in her town, she moved to Chicago to study composition, orchestration, and organ.  She also studied various languages and liberal arts subjects while composing and published her works.  

After divorcing her husband, Florence used her musical talent to support herself and two daughters.  She eventually achieved national recognition for her compositions and performances in collaboration with Margaret Bonds.  In 1932, she won first prize at the Wanamaker Foundation Awards for her Symphony in E minor and third for her piano sonata.  Her symphony premiered in June 1933, performed by the Chicago Symphony Orchestra and making her piece the first composition by an African-American woman to be played by a major orchestra.  

Florence continued composing and publishing works, many of which were played by other symphony orchestras.  In 1940, she was inducted into the American Society of Composers, Authors and Publishers.  She died in 1953.

Featured above is her Symphony in E Minor: 1.

#ok but does that mean kara gets to tease her too#since lenas a prodigy and kara just points out how nerdy that makes her#supercorp 

@luthorzor-el AHH PRODIGY CHILD LENA WHO PROBABLY SKIPPED A YEAR OR TWO. Who couldn’t relate to her classmates since they were all older. So she spent all her time in the library and worked her ass off and took two degrees at the same time and still managed to graduate with honors

  • me in first grade: wow high schoolers must be so grown up and mature
  • actual freshmen: apparently i am the scum of the earth
  • actual sophomores: idk what i am?? idk what life is??
  • actual juniors: pft you said "duty"
  • actual seniors: NO BUT TELL ME HE DOES NOT LOOK EXACTLY LIKE THIS PICTURE OF FLATBREAD

Why does this look like a family portrait? Is that what they were going for?

Minjun looks like a proud Mom in that cardigan; “Look at my handsome sons; I’ve raised them well….”

Chansung is the Dad who’s like “yeaaaah, she’s forcing me to take this photo, but she promised we’ll get food afterwards soooo…”

Wooyoung is the eldest son who just finished law school and is opening up his own law firm…

Taecyeon is a junior in college majoring in History so he can be a Professor…

Junho is a senior in High School who’s in AP classes and who will graduate with honors…

and Nichkhun just got promoted from Kindergarten into first grade and he couldn’t be any more excited…

At age 15 Jack Morrison was the youngest person on his high school wrestling team.

At age 16 he set new records in both track and swimming.

At age 18 he entered ROTC and left home to attend college.

At age 22 he graduated with honors and became an officer of the US Army.

At age 25 he volunteered for the experimental Super Soldier program and recieved biotic enhancement to his strength, speed, and reflexes.

At age 30 he served with distinction in the Omnic Crisis.

At age 32 he was tapped to become leader of Overwatch, a multinational peacekeeping task force.

At age 50 he survived an attempted coup of Overwatch instigated by the mysterious Talon Organization, led by his close compatriot Gabriel Reyes.  Having escaped the destruction of Overwatch’s HQ, he faked his death and went into hiding.

At age 51 he began acting as a rogue agent, identified only as ‘Soldier 76′ as he began attacking key points held by the Talon Organization and their affiliates in a one-man campaign to uncover the truth behind the fall of Overwatch.

At age 55 during a firefight in Greece, he was pushed off a cliff by a 19-year-old pro gamer who’d been given an advanced combat mech by the Korean government.

“Winky faaaaaaaaaace!” she called out as he fell to his death.

To all my overachievers who don’t get praise from parents and loved ones anymore because it’s just expected of you to do well: I’m proud that you passed that test, I’m happy you graduated with honors, I love that you try your hardest all the time.

I know sometimes the lack of support and encouragement from those whose opinions matter the most to you can be disheartening, but keep pushing through and being the amazing person you are.

findingmyselfthroughletters  asked:

High school tips?

Ngl I kind of gave up on high school half way through. The only reason I was still considered an “honor student” by graduation was privilege, parental pressures, and my ability to understand material somewhat easily without much studying. This is some of the advice I followed…as well as some advice I probably should have followed:
• if you’re in America take APs and IBs if you can. I’m gonna be a standing junior next year (my 2nd year) bc of all the credits I covered in hs. This saves a shit ton of money. Also smaller classes and more focused instruction is usually better than large lecture alternatives you find in college
• try to surround yourself with people who encourage you to study and do well in school. Note: I don’t necessarily believe that means hanging out with the smartest of the smartest bc honestly that discourages me since I get way too focused on comparing myself to people who do better than me (but maybe that’s just me). All I’m saying is, studying is a lot more enjoyable when you have friends who care about their education as much as you do to do it with.
• join clubs/sports teams/societies and volunteer as soon as you can. It gets you in the habit of participating when you start early, plus volunteer experience helps you a lot when in the future you wanna try to land leadership positions in said clubs and societies. Participation>leadership>resumé building>better chance of getting jobs, scholarships, and college acceptances
• Take advantage of your elective classes. Don’t just take something that you think is an easy A. Take classes you think will make you more well rounded or that relate to a major you may be interested in. By all means get outside of your comfort zone by taking that drama class even though you’re pretty sure you’re not gonna major in drama but don’t take that cooking class if you already know how to cook and know you don’t wanna become a chef ya know?
• Planners are your best friend. Maybe. Honestly it depends on the person but I find planners keep me organized and less stressed bc I know what I need to do and I can better divide my work into manageable portions when it’s laid out in front of me
• take pride in your notes and you’ll be a lot more invested in your studies. Think studyblr but you don’t necessarily have to reach that level. I honestly don’t think you need to do that much to organize your notes but find your own balance.
• Don’t feel pressured to do anything you’re not ready for or are not interested in. If someone makes you feel bad for being a virgin or being single or not wanting to party or do drugs etc, then they are a shitty person and don’t deserve your time. From my experience tho, generally no one cares but that may have just been who I surrounded myself with.
• your mental and physical health should come before your grades. Its okay to sacrifice a few A assignments (or whatever you consider good) in order to take care of your health.

Hope this helped? Lol ironically I’m answering this on my phone during a lecture I’m only half paying attention to. Pay attention in class my friends. Do as I say not as I do.

My first year of college I was depressed, not doing well in my classes, almost failing them, and harboring a lot of self hate.

Cut to my fourth year, and I’m graduating with honors (a quarter early!), a double minor, a Dean’s List recipient multiple times over with a kick ass GPA, and uncertain about the future, but still excited to see where life will take me.

A lot can change in a small amount of time. Don’t give up.

Undercover 3: Ghosts in the Halls

Dana stumbles and nearly faceplants in the wet grass, the weight of her bookbag throwing her even more off balance. Damn it. Recovering her footing, she squints at the lanky form pulling away in front of her and wonders how in the hell she got herself into this mess.

Two weeks ago, at the start of the semester, she had all her proverbial ducks in a row: thesis research well underway, med school applications submitted, just a few short months away from graduating with honors. Now she’s chasing the TA for her intro psych class through a graveyard in the rain.

It was supposed to be an easy elective, a soft science class to fill out her schedule and give her a breather from the rest of her rigorous course load. And the class itself is a bit of a snore, the bland Dr. Blevins not exactly an intimidating figure, nor a particularly motivating one. His TA, on the other hand…

“Come on, Scully!”

Mulder. He runs the recitation session for the course and insists on calling everyone by their last names. She should have known the first time she walked in the room and saw him not so much sitting as lounging at the front, should have known then that this class was going to be unconventional, to say the least.

He’d nearly plowed into her this evening, bolting by in front of the library as she was leaving it, and when he’d given a hurried, “Come on, I need your help!” she had… followed him? She doesn’t even know why. Across campus, off campus, over a lawn and into the cemetery they’re running through now.

“Where are we going?” she pants, finally coming to her senses enough to ask.

“Just a little further,” he shouts over his shoulder, vaulting over a small headstone and ducking off to the right. He skids to a stop in front of the church and points. “There she is! You see her?”

Still several steps behind him, it takes a couple of seconds for her to catch up, but even then she can’t see anything through the rain and the spots of water and mud on her glasses.

“I don’t know what you’re–”

“Through the window! Sister Mary Agnes. Or rather, the former Sister Mary Agnes.”

She pulls her glasses off but only succeeds in smearing them with her damp sweater. “I don’t understand. This isn’t a Catholic church. There shouldn’t be nuns here. And why did you drag me out here to look at a nun through a window, anyway?”

He turns to her, and even through her blurred lenses she can see the huge grin on his face. “Not a nun. A ghost.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “Is this a joke?”

“Of course not. I would never joke about spectral phenomena.” When she only manages to gape dumbly at him, he adds, “What, you don’t believe in ghosts?”

“Of course I don’t believe in ghosts! Because they don’t exist!”

“Oh, I think Mary Agnes in there would beg to differ.” He nods toward the church window again, where Dana still can’t actually see anything. “Though technically she only exists here as a corporeal apparition for a few hours on the 28th of January. I’ve never managed to ask her what she gets up to the rest of the year.”

Either this is some sort of prank (to which he’s currently committing 110%), or he’s completely insane. She’s honestly not sure which scenario she’s hoping for.

She stares at him for what feels like forever before finally relocating her voice. “Look, Mulder. I am standing out here, in the rain and the mud, because you said you needed my help. So unless you need someone to give you directions to the campus counselor’s office, I really have to get home.”

He shakes his head, chuckling. “You think I’m crazy. All right, I’m sorry I wasted your time. Have a good night, Scully. I’ll see you in class next week.”

He turns and starts to walk away from her, across the grass toward the church. No explanation, no justification for any of this, and while the rational part of her understands, in the interest of self preservation, that she really ought to leave right now, there’s another part of her that wants answers. Needs them, even.

“Wait.” He stops and turns around, and she takes a step closer. “Why did you bring me out here, really?”

He shrugs. “You’re a senior in a freshman-level psychology class, which means you’re probably not a liberal arts or humanities major. Something in the hard sciences instead, or maybe engineering. I figure you’re probably the sort of person who, when confronted with a ghost, wouldn’t run screaming, but rather would want to examine it, put it in quantifiable terms. Plus there’s the saint’s medal on your backpack, and I was hoping Sister Mary Agnes might be willing to interact with a fellow Catholic, but I’ll admit that’s probably a long shot.”

She crosses her arms over her chest, unable to decide whether she’s impressed or unnerved.

“I wasn’t looking for you specifically or anything, if that’s what you’re thinking,” he continues. “I was already on my way here when I ran into you, and I thought you’d be intrigued. Obviously I thought wrong, but that’s okay. Anyway, I’m gonna go. She doesn’t usually stick around much later than about seven o’clock.”

Without waiting for a response, he turns again and continues walking toward the church’s side door. This time she doesn’t stop to think about it before following him. If nothing else, it will be warmer in the building than out here, and she can at least dry off a little before heading home. There are lights on and undoubtedly other people in there; it’s not as though she’ll be stuck alone with Mulder if he really is off his rocker.

“So you’re telling me that the ghost of a nun haunts a Methodist church once a year, for several hours in the middle of the evening, when there are likely people here for meetings or study groups, and yet no one finds this odd or surprising?” she says as she catches up with him.

He pulls the door open and holds it for her, grinning. “They don’t know she’s a ghost.”

“I hope you’ll forgive the obvious question, but… are you sure she is one?”

“Well, unless you know of any living nuns who’ve figured out how to vanish into thin air, yeah, I’m pretty sure.”

The door closes behind them, shutting out the sounds of the rain and wrapping them in the hushed stillness Dana has long associated with church. She tries to quietly wipe her shoes on the mat and is looking down when Mulder taps her on the shoulder. She looks up at him, and he’s pointing with his other hand down the hall to their left. In the distance, Dana can just make out a swish of black fabric before her view is blocked by Mulder, taking off in pursuit. She hurries to catch up without breaking into a run, her strides no match for his, and she’s half a step behind him when she sees a woman, wearing what certainly seems to be a nun’s habit, open a door off the hallway and walk through it.

Seconds later, Mulder’s pushing open the same door, and Dana follows, so caught up in the moment that she’s abandoned caution and the usual concerns about knocking before entering a room. And then she immediately runs right into Mulder’s back, because they’ve not entered a room so much as a storage closet.

A very empty storage closet.

She backs into the hallway, trying to peer around him. Mulder flicks on the light switch and steps back to stand beside her, gesturing with one arm toward the tiny room where there is most definitely not a soul, living or otherwise, standing inside.

“But… but she was just…” she stammers.

“Here one second, gone the next. Guess we just missed her.”

She walks back into the closet, pulling the door aside to peer behind it, crouching to look futilely under the bottom row of shelves, turning several fruitless circles before coming to a stop and staring out at Mulder once more. She can’t believe it, doesn’t believe it. And yet…

His grin is kind, rather than smug. “C’mon, Scully. Let’s see if we can’t borrow some umbrellas, and I’ll walk you home.”

What’s the Name of the Game?

olicity || ao3 || explicit || smut || 4304 || more fics

summary: Love is a fool’s game and it doesn’t always make sense. When Oliver falls in love with his best friend’s little sister they try to keep it hidden for fear that no one will understand. It’s not just a several year age difference standing in their way.  (anonymous prompt)
a/n: this is another dom!oliver story (as per the prompt) and it features rough sex and bdsm. It also includes an 11 year age gap, but both involved are over the age of 18. If it’s not your thing I would just skip it (: 


It started a couple days after she came home from college. A party was being held in her honor, both as a welcome home party and a congratulations on her double major and graduating with honors.

At the party, she leaned against a wall with a cup of whatever her brother had given her. She was pretty sure that Tommy had been stingy with the alcohol. He had always been overprotective of her. His father and her mother married when he was twelve and she was barely a year old. Now even though she was twenty, he still acted as if she were a child.

“Felicity?”

She pushed herself away from the wall and looked up, “Hi, Oliver.”

He blinked a couple of times, “It’s been awhile.”

She quirked a brow at him, “Yeah it has.”

He was looking at her in a way that he hadn’t before. Oliver was Tommy’s best friend and had always been a part of her life. They were both so much older than her that she never spent that much time with them alone.

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*Smacking Kylo Ren Around With The Beautiful Durasteel Scepter I Got Upon Graduating (WITH HONORS) From Imperial Academy On Carida* You Little Idiot!!!!!!!!!!! Darth Vader Is NOT Good!!!!!!!!!! Sleeper Agent From Jedi Council (COUP) Who KILLED The Emperor!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WRONG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#blackexcellence #blackout

I’m graduating with a 4.0 GPA (Summa Cum Laude) , a member of the National Honor Society and Spanish Honor Society, a full scholarship to college plus an additional $14k from local scholarships to pursue a degree in pharmaceutical sciences.

Don’t EVER allow anyone to discourage you from being successful.

insertepithethere

My Mother, the Heartbreaker

You know what my favorite thing about my parent’s love story is?

Okay, so my dad is this bad boy. I mean, he’s a dude who played in several bands as both a drummer and a guitarist. He was in love with leather jackets, white t-shirts, skinny jeans, Doc Martens, Converse, bandanas, and his hair. I mean damn, he was all John Travolta with his hair all greased and slick. He smoked, he drank, he did drugs, and had like a bajillion girlfriends. Basically, he looked like he should be a part of a Grease or West Side Story production. He never graduated from college.

My mother on the other hand, was this good girl. She went to some snotty all-girls Catholic private school. She was a bookworm with top marks. She graduated with honors from both highschool and college. She never smoked, drank, did drugs or anything. She’d never even had a boyfriend till my dad.

So my mom and dad dated for five years before they got married. But here’s my favorite part. Some time before the wedding my mom tried to break up with my dad on the grounds that she thought that they might be making a mistake by staying together. AND MY DAD FREAKING CRIED UNTIL SHE SAID THEY COULD GET BACK TOGETHER. MY MOM, THE GOOD GIRL, THE BOOKWORM, BROKE MY FATHER, THE BAD BOY LADIES’ MAN, ROCKER DUDE’S HEART.

Whenever my mom tells this story, she always has this grin on her face and my dad always look half sheepish, half happy. I find this to be awesome. They’ve been married for nearly 17 years now.