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Essay on My Hobby for Students and Children

500+ words essay on my hobby.

Hobbies play a very important role in our lives. They occupy our minds when we are free and also make us happy. Hobbies are our escape from the real world that makes us forget our worries. Moreover, they make our lives interesting and enjoyable. If we look at it, all our hobbies are very useful for us. They teach us a lot of things about different stuff. They also help in expanding our knowledge.

Benefits of Having a Hobby

In today’s fast and competitive world, we often get time for ourselves. Over time, our schedule gets very dull and monotonous. That is why we need to indulge in something in between to keep our minds fresh and active. What’s better than a hobby for this? One of the main benefits of having a hobby is that it is a major stress-buster. You actually enjoy doing it and it satisfies your soul.

In other words, without a hobby, your life becomes an unhealthy cycle lacking any excitement or spark. Hobbies offer you a great opportunity to take a break and forget the worries of your life. They allow you to explore yourself and realize your potential in different areas.

Moreover, hobbies can also be a source of extra income. For instance, if you like painting, you can actually sell your art to make some extra money. Likewise, if you have a knack for dancing, you may teach dance classes to people on your holidays. This way your hobby a benefit you both spiritually and financially as well.

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My Favourite Hobby

If I were to pick one favourite hobby of mine out of the many I have, I will definitely pick gardening. I developed a taste for dancing when I was very young. The way my feet moved to the rhythm of the music convinced my parents that I was a born dancer. Dancing is very uplifting as well as economical.

I have always had a love for music and dance. However, I never realized the utter joy they bring to humans. Dancing gives us a lot of exercises. It teaches us to move our body rhythmically and feel the beat of every song. This kind of physical exercise is extremely delightful and enjoyable.

Moreover, dance also taught me how to stay strong and push my limits. I have had many injuries while dancing, too many bruises and cuts but that didn’t stop me from pursuing it further. In fact, it pushes me to do my best and realize my potential more than ever.

I have enrolled in dancing classes because I wish to make my hobby my career. I feel we all should do things which we enjoy doing. Everyone is running after money and in this race, they give up their likings and preferences. I have learned from this race and decided to not take part in it. I wish to take the road less traveled by and take on challenges most people don’t dare to.

In short, my hobby of dancing makes me feel alive and well. It is the only thing I look forward the most to. Thus, I hope to achieve my dream of being a professional dancer and making way for people who wish to make careers out of their hobbies.

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My Hobby Essay

By Emma bunton

Updated on April 13, 2023

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My Hobby Essay – FullHow.com

Do you look for my hobby essay ? If so, you’ve landed in the right position. Let’s dive into the content.

My hobby is the most common topic in school. Sometimes, students go for writing competition with this kind of essay. Today, we’ve brought a plenty of my hobby essay example with different words limits. You can choose any essays according to your needs.

How to write my hobby essay

This is our example of writing my hobby essay. You can get ideas from our essay example. Just follow our example and give your own ideas.

1. My Hobby Essay (100 WORDS)

I have a lot of hobbies but the favorite one that I like most is playing football. When I have free time, I love to play football. I’m a big fan of football since my childhood. I have been very well in this soccer game. When I just entered in my school, my parents told the principal about my hobby. The principal replied that there is an opportunity to take part in sports even from class 1. So, they became so happy and admitted to me this school. So, I really enjoy the football game and take part in my school competition.

2. My Hobby Essay (150 WORDS)

The hobby I like most is reading and it might be a storybook, newspaper, news or magazine etc. I feel very interesting reading when I have free time.

At the first time, my father noticed my reading book and he encouraged me a lot saying that it’s a very good habit, my son. He also advised me not to give up the habit. I was just a small kid and I was very much interested in reading fairy tales and other stories that were given by my dad.

Now, I’m at the age of 10 years and read in class 5. At present, as a mature person, I understand the benefits of reading. Actually, reading a book helps me to achieve all kinds of general knowledge. This kind of habit really helps me to know the unknown, to see the unseen, to discover the undiscovered. I can even know the history, culture, animals, space, human achievements, and other fascinating things about the world.

3. My Hobby Essay (200 WORDS)

In my free time, I love to read interesting and knowledgeable books. Coming from school, I love to read this kind of book while finishing my homework. I’m 11 years old and study in class 7th standard.

Now, I understand that reading is a good habit that will make me a complete boy. Any of us can develop this hobby. In fact, I achieved this naturally. Reading will always keep us busy and happy. It’s a better source of knowledge, inspiration, enjoyment, and instruction.

Besides, this makes us a loyal, punctual, disciplined and successful person in our life. Books are my best friend and I don’t feel alone. This habit is more special than gold or other stones in the world.

However, it gives us a high level of thoughts, experiences, ideas, and knowledge in different fields. I swear if you get interesting and good books, you would take that as your best friend.

The people who don’t have any habit of reading books, they would always be poor due to the lack of rich knowledge. This habit could be achieved by young people. The habit of reading books can be acquired at a young age by anyone.

4. My Hobby Essay (250 WORDS)

The hobby I like most is watching TV. When I have free time, I love to watch Television. It never interferes with my study. First of all, I like to finish my school home task and then start watching TV.

I think it’s a good habit because watching TV brings a lot of knowledge in any field. Generally, I watch the news and other channels such as discovery channel, animal planet or another informative channel. Sometimes, I watch very good cartoons that provide me creative and new ideas to make cartoons and arts.

My parents admire my hobby and also they are so happy when they just listen to the whole update news through my voice. Now, I study in class three and eight years old boy. I develop my hobby since my childhood.

Watching television in a proper way gives so important roles in one’s life. It helps us to make something creative. It always keeps us an update about all kinds of news and views. It informs us what’s happening across the world.

Getting knowledge about today’s incident is so important for modern society due to a great level of competition. It gives a lot of benefits as it develops our knowledge and thoughts. It enriches our mind of thoughts, ideas, and experiences.

There are different types of programs on TV that are so crucial to enhance our awareness about worldwide matters. TV channels also hold different types of educative programs such as history, economics, science, math, culture, and geography etc. to develop our knowledge.

5. My Hobby Essay – Playing Guitar (300 words)

Whenever people ask me regarding my hobby, I always pause and think for a moment. Even though I like playing all the instruments, my hobby is playing guitar.

When I was 6 years old I suddenly developed a liking for music. I started creating tunes and melodies by beating my desks which sounded like I was playing bongos. I was pretty good at it too. Whenever guests used to come at our place they would request me to play some melody on my dining table as they thought I was very good at it. Of course, in childhood I would get annoyed because playing music was something I wanted to keep to myself.

As I grew up, my hobby developed into playing guitars after my aunt came from Florida and got me a guitar. Now all my time was devoted to learning guitar strings and playing screeching music that would make your ears bleed. But soon, after a lot of practice and perseverance I was able to get hands on learning of guitar strings. Playing guitar has taught me many things, but the most important thing it has taught me is that the more you play it, the better you become at it. I have hurt my finger with guitar chords many times. Practicing made me learn different notes and now I can play chords such as AM, C, D, G, AM7, CMAJ7 and many more.

Playing guitar gives me the refuge from thinking too much about outside world. It helps me stay calm in the world of chaos. The best thing about it is that I can recreate any tune I want to, which makes me feel very creative and happy that my hobby has developed into a worthwhile talent. i hope that soon I am able to learn other musical instruments as well.

6. My Hobby Essay – Cooking (300 words)

My hobbies have always changed over the time. At one point in my life, I used to paint in my free time. As I grew up, I started cooking as a hobby. I still remember the recipes that I used to download from the internet and work on them with patience. However, I always ended up with burnt pies or undercooked pizza doughs. It was hilarious for my family to see me trying and failing miserably. However, one day I decided to follow my mother’s cooking recipe. I was able to create the dish perfectly then. The happiness I got was priceless so I decided that from that day onwards, I will cook whenever I have free time in my schedule.

From there on, I cook different recipes every day. From lasagna to baked broccoli— I have successfully tried all the recipes. I have realized over the time that cooking is a stress buster and an energy booster. It feels so good after a long hard day at kitchen to finally serve food to your family or guests. Of course, I don’t do it professionally, it is merely a hobby for me. But the joy I receive when I create food from new recipes or invent my own kind of cuisine by mixing up 2 or 3 recipes is beyond price.

One of the best things I like about cooking is that I can experiment on food. I don’t enjoy cooking as a daily chore, but it’s something that I do as a hobby. I love the sound of patties in hot oil, sizzling as they are being fried. I enjoy cutting the colorfully exotic vegetables. The smell of spices and different flavor oozing from my kitchen excite me and make me feel like I am doing something worthwhile. I love cooking as a hobby and it makes me happy that I have learnt it so early in my age.

7. My Hobby Essay – Writing (300 words)

People think a hobby is something you do that you are really good at, but for me it’s different. My hobby is writing and I have been doing it since the age of 5. After coming home from school I would sit at some corner of the house and write about my day. Of course, I did not realize it at that time that I love and enjoy writing. I merely thought that I was penning down my thoughts.

Now just to be clear, I was not good at it. I couldn’t find the words to explain my day. There were a lot of spelling and grammar mistakes and the list goes on. However since I enjoyed doing it in my free time, I kept writing a diary till the age of 12. On my 13 th birthday, I decided to create a blog for my writing musings. I quickly gained a lot of audience as even though I didn’t write well, I included funny tidbits of my daily life in my blogs.

I never earned from my blogs, but I used to take out 30 minutes out of my busy school schedule to make sure that I write and post the blog. Soon I realized that there are some things that you cannot post online, so I diverted back to writing a diary every day. However, after doing this as a hobby for a very long time I have now become a very good writer. I can create my own poems and literature pieces. Moreover I can now write long opinionated articles very well. In my English class, after reading one of my essays my teacher asked me how did I learn to write so well? I smiled and told her ‘Maybe having hobbies actually help us improve our skills after all’

8. My Hobby Essay (300 WORDS)

When it comes to the hobby, it’s a very interesting and good habit for every person. A hobby should have everyone else. Hobby makes everyone busy in free time.

It gets rid of loneliness and prevents from psychological problems. I just remember that when I was three years old kid I used to like spending my free time in the garden. I like so much to be in my green garden with my father every morning.

When I was so small, my parents often laughed at me when I used to pour water on the plants. But now they are so happy and proud to see me in the same garden. I do now everything so perfectly and understand the value of saving plants life. I also understand the importance of trees how they save our lives.

Everyone should have hobbies for every day’s life. Gardening helps us to get a close connection with nature. Hobby increases the pleasure of our mind, soul, and body. It increases our creativity and develops our mind.

My favorite hobby is gardening and I love planting and pouring water every morning. I enjoy the flowers’ blooming and plants growing. Trees grow as like as us. In my garden, I have different types of trees in such as flower trees, mango trees, and some vegetables trees etc. I watch them as my best friend and every day I take care of them. It grows very well.

I realize the great achievement and fact of life. It helps me to be healthy, fit and strong. It always refreshes my mind and gives me a good mood. This types of extra-curricular activities always helps us to develop our motor skills. Finally, everyone should have a good hobby like gardening. Through the hobby, anyone can get a great help for the long run.

9. My Hobby Essay— Reading Books (500 words)

A hobby is something that keeps the passion alive inside you. It can be anything from singing, dancing to reading. My hobby is reading books.

Since childhood, I have always been the kind of kid who was engrossed in reading novels twice the size of my face. In class, at home or even when I would go to visit my relatives, I would always have a novel with me. Reading novels and stories is my hobby. I love that people think I am a nerd for reading books all the time but in reality, reading soothes me. When I come home from a long day at school, I want to come home and read books to divert my mind off the anxiety of school work. It helps me relax and feel better

I have always had this weird feeling that books talk to me and inspire me to become a better person. I take inspiration to be a brand new person everyday whenever I read a book. When I was reading the Pride and Prejudice, I became strong and fierce like Jane. I started having a lot of opinions, and I could feel my personality developing like Jane. However, when I was reading Harry Potter, I could almost swear that I am Harry Potter. In weirdly strange ways I start developing the habits from my favorite characters in the books and start acting that way.

Over my lifetime, I have read over 2000 books. I don’t focus on a particular genre; I just care about the words written inside that book. One of the best things about reading as a hobby is the smell of new books. I feel like I am addicted to the smell of pages and the sound of a crisp page turning as I get access to the new chapter of the book.

There are many reasons why I enjoy reading books so much. One of the top reasons is that I love travelling, and since I don’t afford travelling so often, I can travel from the Mediterranean islands to the beaches of Florida, from the 16 th Century to the 18 th Century, all through my books. I can live the lives of lords and ladies, and even see the world through the eyes of prince and princesses. A book seems like the most private thing and I feel like a whole new being after reading a book.

Another reason why I love reading so much is that my mind feels fresh after I read the books. I get a lot of information that others are unaware of, which makes me ready to face any challenges of life.

My father realized my passion in an early age and got me a membership to my city’s library. I now visit the library every week, sometimes even twice a week to borrow my favorite books and read, read and read! I know that hobbies are only considered a way of passing time, but I can safely say that my hobby has actually become my passion.

10. My Hobby Essay – Painting and Drawing (500 words)

There comes a time in everybody’s life when they are feeling at a loss for words. There are moments when people want to communicate their feelings but can’t find the words to explain those feelings. At those times, painting or drawing is the perfect way to communicate your feelings to the world. My hobby is drawing and painting. There is nothing more in the world that I enjoy more than drawing, painting and filling colors in the sky that I drew up myself.

I developed this hobby a few years ago after we were assigned to paint a picture book for our summer vacation holidays. Naturally, I thought I am not good at painting but as the days passed I practiced and became better at it. Colors, lines and the strokes of paint brushes made me feel like I am doing something great. I started exploring painting and drawing more and creating paintings on different things such as cards, mugs, and even my keychains. It makes me feel relaxed and anxiety-free.

Soon, I started enjoying painting so much that I bought oil paints and started painting cartoon characters on the wall of our backyard.

When my father found out, he acted like he is very furious about it. But later in the day he went out and brought more colors and canvases for me so I can create better paintings and polish this hobby as much as I want to. Then I used to draw on canvases and paint them and hang them around in our house. All the guests used to praise my art and drawings a lot and this gave me a confidence boost to know that I am good at something.

I don’t call myself artist, as painting and drawing don’t come naturally to me. It is rather something that I have perfected over the years as I liked doing it. If I have to study painting and drawing I would have never enjoyed it as I don’t like to put boundaries on my art. I like the fact that I am not doing this for a living and that I am not studying it in college. This means that I don’t have to be perfect at it, but enjoy it as I create paintings that are messy and creative. I believe hobbies should never be tied into a profession or education, but they are something that a person should keep for their own happiness.

I have painted over 100 portraits till now. Painting and drawing is something that makes me feel calm and creative. Now that I have developed this talent of writing, I like painting for myself so it makes me happy. Painting and Drawing are a hobby that have become inseparable from me now. It has become not only my favorite pastime but also one of widely appreciated talents.

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Essay on My Hobby

List of essays on my hobby in english, essay on my hobby reading books – essay 1 (250 words), essay on my hobby reading books – essay 2 (250 words), essay on my hobby playing cricket – essay 3 (250 words), essay on my hobby drawing – essay 4 (250 words), essay on my hobby dancing – essay 5 (250 words), essay on my hobby – sewing – essay 6 (500 words), essay on my hobby – essay 7 (750 words), essay on my hobby cooking – essay 8 (1000 words).

My hobby is reading books. Reading a book is one of my favorite pass times and since I work with words for a living it is also one of my favorite work tasks. There are no words that can describe my admiration and respect for the written word and the modest book that houses them. Even though great thinker of antiquity like Socrates despised the written word calling it unresponsive and dead we have to give out thanks to its ability to conserve knowledge for generations.

My hobby reading books is the best way to escape from the torment of the world and to rest in a world of imagination. Undisturbed by the troubles of my life, my mind can rest from all the stress it goes through every day and find comfort in the words of wise writers or happiness in those that like more light-hearted topics.

Not only do I read books but I also collect them and spend endless hours searching for the right edition for their collection. I even save up money so that I can buy books and extend my library or spend fortunes on rare historic manuscripts.

The fact of the matter is that there is no better way for me to rest and at the same time practice my brain by reading a book, so as far as my hobby reading books goes this way, it is the best pass time I can have. Believe me, once you start exploring the sea of stories written on paper you will never want to stop exploring.

Hobby is something that is of our interest and keeps us engaged in our free time with a free mind. A good habit will not only help us to escape from our daily cores but also keeps us peaceful. Studies prove that practicing a good hobby will keep us away from many mind related problems and loneliness as well.

Reading books as My Hobby:

Hobby is something that develops with us from an early age. I find happiness in reading books in my lonely time to free my mind of stress and study pressures. My hobby is reading books. Reading books is the best knowledge gaining hobby. My hobby reading books has helped me to improve my language too. When I start reading, I create my own imaginary and creative world to travel with the story.

Reading thriller novels will help me to travel to that world with mystery and stories with adventures will improve my creative side, as I am constantly imagining the scenario that’s happening in the story and so on. Thus my hobby reading books interest me the most, has helped me to understand the language better, create noble and ideal thoughts in me and more.

Inspirational and instructive books have always inspired my growing mind to follow the better path to achieve my life goal. By reading books I can be updated on the present world. A person with understandability towards anything will be able to acquire their desired heights more easily and books are molding me to be one.

Living amidst books makes me feel happier and loneliness has never touched me at any point in my life. Books have become my best friend since childhood and I can feel the positive changes they create in me.

“All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.”

We have all heard of this adage time and again and it also throws light on how important it truly is to make sure that we all have a hobby.

The game of cricket:

Well, my hobby is cricket as I have been enjoying this sport since a very tender age. I remember gazing from the winnow of my room and watching the grown-ups immerse themselves in a game of cricket. I would spend hours watching them and remembering the different shots, the way the bowlers threw the ball at different angles and even imagined myself excelling at cricket.

The need for passion:

I believe that regardless of what we choose, it is important for each one of us to have a hobby. My hobby is something which keeps me going and it adds to my verve and energy. If you develop a good hobby, it will make sure that you would have something to unwind your mind.

When I go out to play cricket, in that moment, I do not think of anything else as I am cool, composed and nothing else matters. So, if you have not yet found your thing which you can truly call as a hobby, I suggest you do so.

I knew my hobby since a tender age and it soon grew into my passion and I can say with utmost pride that I am quite good at cricket. When you truly love something, your zest will give you the kick to excel in it too.

I have a lot of hobbies to pass my time. One of such things is drawing. Even when I was a little child, drawing has always made me happy. Sitting quietly in a place, I can draw for hours. It keeps me busy and relaxes my mind. There is a little secret to why I love drawing so much.

As a person, I am less talkative. Because of that, there are very few friends in my life. The thing is that, instead of speaking out everything, I prefer to express my emotions silently. And drawing just helps me do that.

Sketching is not merely a pass time to me. God has given me a beautiful way to share my thoughts and feelings through drawing. It is an art that becomes my voice when I wish to be quiet. Moreover, drawing also helps me connect more with nature. Trees, birds, animals, rivers, clouds are some of the favorite things that I like to draw.

My art teacher praises the passion I have for drawing. She also appreciates the blending of shades and strokes of brushes when I paint something. My parents and friends always encourage me for the same.

I wish to pursue drawing for the rest of my life. It is my dream to become a true artist one day and that is only possible with regular practice and devotion.

Introduction:

My hobby is dancing. Dancing is the art of performing purposefully selected sequence of movements by humans. Dance is a beautiful hobby that slowly builds in an individual. Dancing becomes a hobby to people who like to listen to music because as they listen, they tend to accompany the beats with dance moves. Although some people might be enjoying music but they are unable to dance because dancing is a performance that requires a skill that not everyone can master.

How it began:

Ever since I was a child, I have been chubby and so my parents had to sign me up for dancing lessons so that I can get physically fit. The dancing lessons seemed enjoyable but when I joined the first class I was unable to dance. I developed a strong determination to learn how to dance because by nature I do not like to accept failure. Within a few weeks, I had learned how to dance and it grew in me and dancing became my hobby. I would dance everywhere and that is how I grew fond of my hobby dancing.

Benefits of My Hobby Dancing:

Through my hobby dancing, I was able to lose weight and my chubbiness was gone. The regular dancing that I have been doing has kept me fit. Sometimes I make money from dancing especially during the holidays. Dancing at events or festivals earns me money. At school, I have won awards because I participate in dance as an extracurricular activity. It is a great feeling to have dancing as my hobby because it is what I love and enjoy.

Who are we without our hobbies? Apart from our physical appearances, the collection of the things we do is what makes us distinct from the next person. While there are things we do simply because we have to, we do others because we love to.

Hobbies are things we do because we have a natural inclination to do so. They give us so much pleasure that we would spend our life time doing it. This is why people try to build their respective professions around their hobbies. By so doing, an ordinarily difficult task suddenly becomes simple.

My love for sewing:

Though I have a lot of hobbies, my love for sewing stands out from the crowd. It all started when my mother bought a sewing machine when I was younger. I was immediately fascinated by the mechanical excellence of the equipment. First, it was the way the machine rolled. Then I was puzzled about the thread movement and how it miraculously turned torn pieces into masterpieces.

Subsequently, my curiosity became a source of entertainment. I would play around the machine and time would disappear while I do so. I would cut my old clothing and run it through the machine just to see it move. Slowly and surely, I became enchanted with sewing so much that it dominated my thought and became my hobby.

Now, I would not leave a single week without creating something adorable with the sewing machine. A few moments spent away from this intriguing environment feels like an eternity. What’s more, I have found that sewing has a therapeutic effect on me. It helps clear my thought and keeps me focused on a single task. Though there is financial gain in this endeavor I do it simply for the thrill.

Me and my hobby:

Sewing is my hobby and it is refreshing to me but over time I realized that by virtue of my love for this craft I became interested in related fields. First, I have to create a sketch of what to sew. This process is a purely creative one. As I draw, I can picture what I would do to the real fabric when I eventually get on the machine. I also visualize what the eventual dress would look like on me or whoever would eventually wear it.

Then, I cut pieces of the fabric as outlined in my drawings. The cutting stage is mainly about precision. The materials have to be systematically shaped in such a way that it fits the measurement taken. Any deviation from this would lead to undesired results.

Finally, the pieces are carefully held together by the automated needle of the machine. This is the most fulfilling part of the process. This is so because seeing the conceptualized idea come to bare serves as an icing on the cake. However, the feeling of excitement I experience after the cloth is made quickly evaporates. I am immediately left with the desire to start over again. Though the process might seem mechanical or even uninspiring to an onlooker, I wouldn’t trade my hobby of sewing for anything else in the world.

Any activity which one does for pleasure is called as a hobby. It can anything ranging from reading books, spending time with your pets, travelling around, talking to new people, just anything which gives immense pleasure to a person and relieves a person of the tensions of daily life. I too have a hobby which is quite common in the world as so many people do it.

My Hobby, My Pleasure:

My hobby is reading anything knowledgeable be it the newspapers, magazines, short story books or the novel series. I just love to read. In fact, I have this good collection of books at home which I feel is the biggest treasure I have.

How it all started:

When I was in school we were asked to read the newspaper every day and come up with three national, three international and three sports news in the class. This was a sort of regular activity for us. It is from here that I gathered interest in reading newspapers. Slowly as we all grew up this hobby of reading newspapers in the morning developed into a full-time activity of reading which came around.

Overall these years, I have the pleasure of reading the Harry Potter series, which still remain the best, The Shiva Trilogy from Amish Tripathi, books from good authors both from India and abroad.

Books, Our best friends:

Life isn’t anything but difficult to live without friends. With regards to Books, they can be our closest friends ever. Great Books advances our brain with great contemplations and information simply like a decent friend. We can’t feel alone in the vicinity of books. We can learn numerous beneficial things while perusing a decent book. Books composed by well-known and experienced authors causes us to improve as a person and furthermore show us how to serve the general public in the most ideal way. When we are separated from everyone else, we can generally get a book and begin perusing to feel unwind.

Books are our closest companions since they rouse us to do incredible things throughout everyday life and conquer our disappointments. Books can be great or terrible, however, it is our duty to pick them wisely. Kinship with Good books makes you Good individual and companionship with Bad books make you a terrible individual. Books will dependably be there for you in your terrible occasions. Books motivate us to have dreams. Moreover, books convey a positive incentive to our life and make us a better human being.

Advantages of Having a Hobby:

Having a hobby is really basic for a solid character and body. In addition to the fact that they are fun, a hobby can revive one completely, help with remaining solid, dynamic and cheerful. Spending time doing the things that we appreciate can help postpone maturing and prompt positive emotions that assistance battle against specific diseases. A hobby makes you more joyful and more substance as a human being. In addition to the fact that this is useful for your general wellbeing and prosperity, it likewise expands your fulfilment with life and brings you harmony, joy and energy. What’s more, makes you simpler to live with! On the off chance that your days are loaded up with only customer gatherings, ventures and constant work, a hobby can help facilitate a portion of that pressure and take your brain off work.

In fact, a few research studies have demonstrated that individuals who take part in leisure activities are more averse to creative memory issues. Hobbies are additionally known to fight off sadness and lower circulatory strain. So in addition to the fact that hobbies help you mentally, they are useful for your body as well.

Conclusion:

Having a hobby that we enjoy doing brings us joy and advances our lives. It gives us something enjoyable to do amid our recreation time and gives us the chance to learn new aptitudes. We are exceptionally lucky to have such a large number of various choices out there today. Actually, there are whole sites committed to diversions and interests.

The most ideal approach to developing another hobby is to take a stab at something new. The world is loaded with magnificent, energizing exercises that we can investigate and embrace as our own. Obviously, we all are one of a kind and, accordingly, our interests and leisure activities change. In any case, when we discover an interest that we really appreciate and are enthusiastic about, we end up snared. It turns out to be a piece of our lives and encourages us in an exceptionally close to home way. Last, but not the least, hobby help us live our dreams which usually get ignored due to our busy lives.

A hobby is one’s favourite habit, activity or what a person chooses to do or what the person does usually for enjoyment and pleasure in his/her available leisure time. Having a hobby is a very good thing that can be developed at a point in one’s life from childhood all the way to adulthood but it is sometimes best to have a hobby from childhood. We all participate in some kind of activity in line with our interests that we derive joy and happiness from; this activity is our hobby. We all have different hobbies based on our interests, dislikes and likes.

Types of Hobbies:

There are a lot of different types of hobbies that we can show interest in and develop, examples of hobbies are singing, dancing, playing outdoor or indoor games, drawing, collecting antiques, bird watching, writing, photography, reading, eating, playing, sports, music, gardening, cooking, watching TV, talking and any other activity you can think of. Our different hobbies that become a source of earning money and a means of livelihood and we can build a very successful career out of our hobbies. A hobby is meant to be enjoyed in our leisure time but it can become a lot more than that.

My Hobbies:

One popular misconception is that we can have only one hobby; this is totally not true. As a child growing up, I loved and enjoyed cooking and I would spend hours watching cooking programmes and watching my parents cook. Sooner rather than later, I also started trying out different recipes and dishes I had seen on TV and sometimes even tweaked a few things and made delicacies of my own. Cooking gave my childhood so much joy and bliss which made it one of my hobbies, I could cook all day and I get just happy at the thought of trying out a new recipe. Another hobby of mine is soccer which is kind of an accidental hobby (if there is anything like that). I had always loved watching football (or soccer) and was pretty good at analysis and understanding of the game but I never really tried playing the sport because of my first hobby that is cooking which meant I was more of the indoor person. Fate would have it that one of my close friends was on the varsity soccer team and all the goalkeepers got injured so he told me about an open audition for the position of goalkeeper and I just decided to try out. I was wonderful at the try outs and got a spot on the varsity soccer team, I became a pretty brilliant goalkeeper and I look forward to every opportunity to get on the field of play. There is this feeling of fulfilment and satisfaction I get anytime I am on the field of play. It is very possible to have more than one hobby so open yourself to the possibilities of all the different activities and interesting things around us.

My Favourite Hobby:

My favourite hobby is gardening. I spend most of my leisure time when I am not cooking or playing soccer in gardening. Gardening has been a huge source of knowledge, education, delight and entertainment to me. I have had the opportunity to learn a lot of new things on flowers, plants, vegetables, butterflies and even birds from gardening. My parents have a little plot of land where I pursue and practice this hobby. I have different varieties of vegetables, flowers and a few fruit trees in my garden. Some of the vegetables I grow are carrots, tomatoes, cauliflower, cabbage, spinach, radish, chillies, bitter gourd, etc. I also grow flowers like jasmine, roses, lilies, merry gold, carnation, poppies, flux and forget-me-not. These flowers make the garden a delight to behold and give the garden a soothing fragrance.

There are a few fruit-trees in the garden including banana, mango, guava and pomegranate. The garden is visited often by quite a number of birds and there are even some birds are live permanently on the fruit trees. The chirping sound made by the birds and their sweet music gives the garden the perfect condition and makes it the ideal place to be.

Gardening has also helped my other hobby (soccer) by keeping me mentally alert, physically fit and very fresh. The ambience of the garden is highly invigorating, fresh and soothing; there is calmness to the atmosphere of the garden. The processes and activities involved in gardening include weeding, digging, grafting, cutting, maturing, watering and the tilling of the soil. All of these activities get me the needed physical exercise I need to make my body fit and keep me sharp mentally.

A lot of family members and friends appreciate my hobby gardening. Over the years, I have been able to develop skills needed in gardening, sometimes; my father also helps me maintain the garden. I have a worthy and wonderful collection of magazines and books on vegetables, flowers, fruit trees and also gardening overall. It is quite a wonderful experience to watch plants grow, develop and blossom.

I am not full of knowledge in gardening; sometimes, I get advice and help from a professional gardener so as to know the right thing to do. I spend a large chunk of my money purchasing manure, seeds, fertilisers, books on gardening and gardening tools and implements. I try to catch all the programmes on television about gardening, I visit plant and flower shows and also fruit and vegetable exhibition. I try my possible best to balance all my hobbies, studies and other engagements without hurting any one of them for the others.

Gardening motivates me and gives me a sense of purpose about what I can achieve with my life. Once I am gardening, I forget about all of my worries, troubles and problems of the world. I am my happiest when I am working in the garden or when I get to give my friends and my family members fruits from the garden.

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Essay on My Hobby

Updated on
Mar 16, 2023

How to Write a Winning Essay on My Hobby

Having a meaningful hobby is an integral part of human life. Taking out a few moments in your busy life to pursue your hobby which genuinely satisfies you will make your life more stress-free. There might be many instances in life where people would like to know more about your hobby. You can refer to this blog on such occasions where you need to explain your hobby in detail in the form of essays. Essay writing is an integral part of the English subject. Mastering the skill of essay writing is not easy but can be perfected over time through practice. This blog explores what an essay on my hobby is, how to write it, valuable tips and sample essays on my hobby!

This Blog Includes:

What is an essay on my hobby, how to write an essay on my hobby, sample essay in 100 words, sample essay in 200 words, sample essay in 500 words, tips for writing an essay on my hobby .

An essay on ‘my hobby’ gives the admission committee insight into your life and you as a person. It shows them how your interests and hobbies have a role in your life and how much of a creative and intellectual person you are, apart from your academic excellence. It also gives a clear view of your skills and values. So it is important that you curate an essay that helps to sway the admission committee in your favour and make you stand out from the rest of the candidates.

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My Hobby Essay

Essay on My Hobby

Hobbies play a very crucial role in our day-to-day life. They occupy our minds in leisure time and keep us refreshed. By engaging ourselves in hobbies, we can forget our worries and tension of daily life making it interesting and enjoyable all over again. There are several merits to having a hobby or two. We can learn new things and expand our knowledge while doing them, simply out of joy. It is not necessary for everyone to have hobbies but with them, one can certainly lead a happy life even in gloomy situations. Hobbies can be a perfect way to spend time in solitude too.

Why having a Hobby is Necessary

In the present fast and furious world, it is very difficult to get time for ourselves. Our life has become very monotonous and confined. That is the very reason to engage in something different in our free time to keep our mind refreshed and active. And that is what a hobby does. One of the quintessential merits of having a hobby is that it acts as a major stress-buster. It is something which we enjoy doing with utter satisfaction.

A hobby is a chance to take a break from life and indulge in something different. It gives us an opportunity to explore ourselves and realize our potential in various areas.

Apart from the above good things, hobbies can earn a person some extra income. If you are a stamp collector you can exhibit your stamps in the academy. If you are an efficient painter you can earn money by selling your paintings. So, hobbies can benefit you both mentally as well as financially.

My Hobby- My Favourite Pass-time Activities

I have several hobbies, but the one that makes me the happiest and gives a lot of mental freshness is reading storybooks. I love to read adventure stories and stories on animals and science fiction. Some of my favourite storybooks are Robinson Crusoe by Daniel Defoe, The Invisible Man by H.G. Wells, The Jungle Book by Rudyard Kipling, The Adventures of Robin Hood by Howard Pyle, and Man-Eaters of Kumaon by Jim Corbett. I am now looking forward to reading more books especially, Moby Dick by Herman Melville and fiction written by Ruskin Bond. Whenever I get some leisure time I read a book and that’s why exam breaks are my favourite.

I have another hobby- making recycled toys and origami. I use old, broken toy parts to make miniature aeroplanes and cars and watch a lot of origami videos on Youtube to make my own paper toys and craft items. I also like to write about my toys and origami items on my blog that my mother helped me to create two years ago. I keep doing these two activities- reading storybooks and making craft items in my free times alternatively so that I never get bored. In fact, my hobbies give wings to my imagination!

My aim in life is to become a globetrotter. And in the pages of the storybooks, I already get to visualize many beautiful places. I wish to travel a lot someday and write down my experiences in a blog. For that, I think my hobby of reading storybooks is going to help me significantly. I will get to learn the nuances of creative writing and hone my writing skill over the years.

Some people develop various hobbies based on their interests, preferences, and dislikes. Dancing, singing, drawing, playing indoor or outdoor games, bird watching, collecting antiques, photography, writing, eating, reading, sports, playing, gardening, music, watching TV, cooking, conversing, and many other hobbies are available to us. In today's fast-paced, competitive environment, we scarcely have time for ourselves. With time, our schedule gets tedious and repetitious.

That is why, in order to keep our ideas fresh and lively, we must participate in anything in between. What better way to do it than through a pastime? One of the most essential benefits of having a pastime is that it helps to relieve tension.It satisfies your soul and you truly like doing it. A hobby allows you to take a break from your daily routine and indulge in something new.In a variety of disciplines, it allows us to find ourselves and our own potential.

Aside from the benefits listed above, Additionally, hobbies can be employed to augment one's income.You can display your stamp collection in the academy if you are a stamp collector. You can make money by selling your paintings if you are a skilled painter. As a result, hobbies can be beneficial to you both personally and financially.

Reading is one of my favourite pastimes. Reading is one of my favorite activities, and it is also one of my favorite professional jobs because I work with language on a regular basis. There are no words to adequately express my admiration and respect for the written word and the small book that houses it. Despite the fact that ancient thinkers such as Socrates despised the written word, calling it unresponsive and lifeless, we must recognize its ability to preserve information for future generations.

My favorite pleasure is reading novels because it allows me to escape the stresses of everyday life and immerse myself in a world of imagination. My mind can relax from all of the stress it encounters on a daily basis. undisturbed by my problems, and find consolation in the words of wise writers or enjoyment in those who enjoy more light-hearted topics.

Reading thriller novels will assist me in travelling to a realm of mystery, and stories with adventures will strengthen my creative side, as I will be continuously envisioning the scenario that will occur in the story, and so on. As a result, my favourite pastime is reading books, which has helped me improve my language skills, develop noble and ideal thoughts, and much more.

Inspirational and educational literature have always encouraged my developing intellect to pursue a better path toward my life goal. I can keep up with current events through reading books. A person who can understand everything will be able to achieve their goals more easily, and books are shaping me to be one.

I don't only read books; I also collect them and spend many hours looking for the perfect version for my collection. I even set aside funds to purchase books and expand my library, or to spend a fortune on rare historic manuscripts.

The truth is that there is no better method for me to relax while also exercising my brain than to read a book, therefore as far as my hobby of reading books is concerned, it is the best pastime I can have. Believe me when I say that once you begin exploring the sea of stories printed on paper, you will not want to stop. Living in a house full of books makes me happy, and loneliness has never touched me in my life. Since childhood, books have become my dearest friend, and I can sense the beneficial changes they bring about in me.

A person's hobby is a fantastic gift they receive as a child. It can be grown at any age, although it is best to begin while you are young. A pastime is a type of labour that we all do based on our interests and that can bring us happiness and delight. Our hobbies assist us in earning a living and establishing a successful profession. A hobby is something we can enjoy doing in our spare time. And therefore, to enjoy life one must pursue different hobbies.

FAQs on My Hobby Essay

1.Why is it important to have a hobby?

A hobby is a getaway time for an individual where he does what he likes. He feels liberated from the daily pressure and does what he enjoys to do. The feeling of thrill while working, reading, playing, or mingling with something he considers as a hobby helps him to de-stress and relax at the same time. At the same time, a hobby also helps a person to increase his concentration and knowledge.

2.How can you write an essay properly?

The prime method of writing an essay is to concentrate on the topic and focus on finding and adding information. This is where the writer has to follow a certain set of rules related to the format and make the essay more informative.

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500+Words Essay on My Hobby in English

We all have busy schedules and constant demands but thankfully hobbies offer a sense of joy and fulfillment. Whether it’s painting, gardening, or playing an instrument, hobbies allow us to escape the stresses of everyday life and indulge in activities that bring us happiness. In this article, we’ll explore hobbies, exploring their importance, their benefits, and the endless possibilities they offer for relaxation and self-expression.

Table of Content

What are Hobbies?

Types of hobbies, importance of hobbies, 500+ word essay on my hobby: painting, 500+ word essay on my hobby: dancing, 500+ word essay on my hobby: sports.

Hobbies are activities that individuals engage in for pleasure and relaxation, offering a break from daily routines. They come in various forms, such as physical, mental, social, creative, and self-improvement hobbies. Engaging in hobbies provides numerous benefits, including stress relief, skill development, knowledge enhancement, and social interaction. Hobbies can help individuals disconnect from work-related stress, improve mental health, and foster creativity. They also contribute to personal growth by boosting confidence, patience, and self-esteem.

Here are the types of hobbies catering to different interests and preferences:

Physical Hobbies/Active Hobbies
Creative and DIY Craft Hobbies
Mental Hobbies
Musical Hobbies
Collecting Hobbies
Food/Drink Hobbies
Games/Puzzles Hobbies
Model/Woodworking Hobbies

Hobbies play a crucial role in our lives, offering numerous benefits that contribute to our overall well-being and happiness. Here’s why hobbies are so important:

Hobbies provide us with a much-needed escape from the stresses and pressures of daily life. Engaging in activities we enjoy allows us to take a mental break, recharge our batteries, and return to our responsibilities feeling refreshed and rejuvenated. Whether it’s painting, playing a musical instrument, or gardening, hobbies offer a therapeutic outlet for relieving stress and promoting relaxation.
Hobbies build personal growth and development by challenging us to learn new skills and expand our knowledge. Whether we’re mastering a new recipe in the kitchen, learning to play a new song on the guitar, or honing our photography skills, hobbies encourage continuous learning and self-improvement. This not only boosts our confidence and self-esteem but also enhances our cognitive abilities and keeps our minds sharp.
Hobbies provide a sense of purpose and fulfillment in our lives. They allow us to pursue our passions, express our creativity, and connect with our inner selves on a deeper level. Whether we’re creating something with our hands, exploring the great outdoors, or immersing ourselves in a good book, hobbies give us a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction that enriches our lives.
Hobbies play a vital role in maintaining our mental and emotional well-being. Engaging in activities we love boosts our mood, reduces feelings of anxiety and depression, and improves our overall mental health. Hobbies also provide opportunities for social interaction and connection, whether it’s joining a book club, participating in a sports team, or attending a cooking class. These social connections foster a sense of belonging and community, which is essential for our mental and emotional well-being.
Hobbies are an essential part of a balanced and fulfilling life. They offer a wide range of benefits, from stress relief and personal growth to enhanced well-being and social connection. By making time for hobbies, we can improve our quality of life and cultivate a greater sense of happiness and fulfillment.

Introduction to Painting as a Hobby

Painting is not just about putting colors on canvas; it is a form of communication that transcends words. For many individuals, painting serves as a means of relaxation, self-discovery, and emotional release. As a hobby, painting allows one to escape the stresses of daily life and enter a realm where creativity knows no bounds. Whether using oils, acrylics, watercolors, or other mediums, each stroke of the brush carries with it a piece of the artist’s soul.

Personal Experience with Painting

As someone who has embraced painting as a hobby, I have found immense joy and satisfaction in creating art on canvas. The process of selecting colors, envisioning a composition, and bringing it to life through brushstrokes is both meditative and exhilarating. Each painting tells a story, capturing emotions, memories, or simply the beauty of the world around us.

Benefits of Painting as a Hobby

Engaging in painting as a hobby offers numerous benefits beyond just creating beautiful artwork. Some of the key advantages include:

Stress Relief: Painting provides an outlet for stress and anxiety, allowing individuals to focus their energy on creating something beautiful.
Self-Expression: Through painting, one can express thoughts, emotions, and ideas that may be difficult to articulate verbally.
Creativity Enhancement: Painting stimulates creativity and imagination, encouraging individuals to think outside the box and explore new artistic possibilities.
Mindfulness: The act of painting requires focus and concentration, promoting mindfulness and presence in the moment.
Personal Growth: Engaging in painting can lead to personal growth by boosting confidence, patience, and self-esteem.

Techniques in Painting

Painting includes a wide range of techniques that artists can explore and master. Some common techniques include:

Color Mixing: Understanding how colors interact with each other is essential in creating harmonious compositions.
Brushwork: Different brush strokes can create varying textures and effects on the canvas.
Layering: Building layers of paint adds depth and dimension to the artwork.
Composition: Planning the layout of elements within the painting helps create balance and visual interest.
Light and Shadow: Mastering light and shadow adds realism and depth to paintings.
Finding Inspiration for Painting
Inspiration for painting can come from various sources:
Nature: The beauty of nature – landscapes, flowers, animals – often serves as inspiration for many painters.
Emotions: Strong emotions or personal experiences can fuel creativity and inspire meaningful artwork.
Artistic Influences: Studying the works of renowned artists can spark ideas and influence one’s own style.
Everyday Life: Simple moments or objects in everyday life can be transformed into art through observation and interpretation.

In conclusion, painting as a hobby offers a myriad of benefits for individuals seeking creative expression, relaxation, and personal growth. Whether you are an experienced artist or just starting out with a brush in hand, painting provides a canvas for imagination to flourish and emotions to be captured in vibrant hues. Embrace the world of painting as a hobby, let your creativity flow freely, and watch as each stroke brings you closer to your inner artist.

Dancing is not just a hobby; it is a passion that ignites my soul and fills my life with joy, expression, and creativity. From a young age, I have been drawn to the art of dance, finding solace and freedom in the movement of my body to the rhythm of music. In this essay, I will delve into the profound impact that dancing has had on my life, exploring its physical, emotional, and mental benefits, as well as the ways in which it has shaped my identity and provided me with a sense of purpose and fulfillment.

To begin with, dancing is a form of physical exercise that not only keeps me fit and healthy but also allows me to express myself through movement. The sheer act of dancing engages various muscle groups, improves flexibility, coordination, and balance, and enhances cardiovascular health. Whether I am practicing ballet, hip-hop, salsa, or contemporary dance styles, each session challenges my body in unique ways, pushing me to strive for greater strength and agility. Moreover, the endorphins released during dance sessions elevate my mood and reduce stress levels, leaving me feeling energized and rejuvenated.

Beyond its physical benefits, dancing serves as a powerful emotional outlet that enables me to channel my feelings and emotions into artistic expression. Through dance, I can convey a range of emotions – from joy and excitement to sadness and longing – without uttering a single word. The music becomes my language, the movements my vocabulary, and the stage my canvas on which I paint stories of love, loss, triumph, and resilience. In moments of uncertainty or turmoil, dancing provides me with a safe space to release pent-up emotions, find catharsis, and regain a sense of inner peace.

Furthermore, dancing nurtures my mental well-being by stimulating creativity, enhancing cognitive function, and fostering mindfulness. As I learn new choreographies, experiment with different dance styles, and collaborate with fellow dancers, my brain is constantly challenged to memorize sequences, coordinate movements, and interpret musical cues. This mental stimulation not only sharpens my focus and concentration but also boosts my memory retention and problem-solving skills. Additionally, the rhythmic patterns of dance music help me enter a state of flow where I am fully present in the moment, free from distractions or worries.

In addition to its physical, emotional, and mental benefits, dancing has played a pivotal role in shaping my identity and providing me with a sense of purpose and fulfillment. Through years of dedicated practice and performance experiences, I have honed my skills as a dancer, developed my own unique style and artistic voice, and built lasting relationships within the dance community. Each time I step onto the stage or into the studio, I am reminded of the passion that drives me to pursue excellence in this art form. Dancing has not only enriched my life but also given me a sense of belonging and purpose that transcends words.

In conclusion, dancing is more than just a hobby for me; it is a way of life that brings me immense joy, fulfillment, and self-discovery. Through its physical benefits of exercise and fitness; emotional outlet for expression; mental stimulation for creativity; and identity-shaping role in providing purpose and fulfillment; dancing has become an integral part of who I am. As I continue to immerse myself in this art form with dedication and passion, I look forward to the endless possibilities for growth, learning, and self-expression that dance offers.

Engaging in sports is not merely a pastime for me; it is a passion that fuels my spirit, challenges my limits, and enriches my life in countless ways. From the adrenaline rush of competition to the camaraderie of teamwork, sports have been an integral part of my journey towards personal growth, physical fitness, and mental resilience. In this essay, I will delve into the profound impact that sports have had on my life, exploring their physical, emotional, and social benefits, as well as the ways in which they have shaped my character and instilled in me a sense of discipline and determination.

To begin with, participating in sports is a gateway to physical well-being and overall health. Whether I am running on the track, shooting hoops on the basketball court, or diving into the pool for a swim, each sport challenges my body in unique ways, promoting cardiovascular fitness, strength, agility, and endurance. The regular practice and training required in sports not only help me stay in shape but also instill healthy habits such as proper nutrition, hydration, and rest. Moreover, the endorphins released during physical activity elevate my mood, reduce stress levels, and boost my energy levels, leaving me feeling refreshed and invigorated.

Beyond its physical benefits, sports serve as a powerful emotional outlet that allows me to channel my emotions in a constructive manner. The highs of victory and the lows of defeat experienced in competitive sports teach me valuable lessons in resilience, perseverance, and sportsmanship. Through wins and losses alike, I learn to celebrate success with humility and grace and to face setbacks with courage and determination. The emotional rollercoaster of sports not only strengthens my mental fortitude but also fosters a sense of self-awareness and emotional intelligence that transcends the boundaries of the playing field.

Furthermore, engaging in sports nurtures my social well-being by fostering connections with teammates, coaches, and fellow athletes. The bonds forged through shared experiences on the field or court create a sense of belonging and camaraderie that extends beyond the game itself. Whether we are strategizing plays together, cheering each other on during matches, or celebrating victories as a team, the sense of unity and support within a sports community is unparalleled. These relationships not only provide me with a support system during challenging times but also offer opportunities for personal growth through collaboration, communication, and teamwork.

In addition to its physical, emotional, and social benefits, sports have played a pivotal role in shaping my character and instilling in me values such as discipline, determination, and resilience. The dedication required to excel in sports demands consistent practice, hard work, and sacrifice – qualities that translate into other areas of life such as academics or career pursuits. Through the ups and downs of training regimens, injuries, setbacks, and comebacks, I have learned to push past my limits, set ambitious goals for myself, and persevere in the face of adversity. Sports have taught me that success is not just about winning medals or trophies but about personal growth, self-improvement, and the journey towards becoming the best version of myself.

In conclusion, sports are more than just a hobby for me; they are a way of life that embodies passion, perseverance, and personal growth. Through their physical benefits of fitness; emotional outlet for resilience; social connections for camaraderie; and character-building role in discipline; sports have become an integral part of who I am. As I continue to engage in various sports with dedication and enthusiasm, I look forward to the continued opportunities for growth, learning from challenges faced on the field or court while striving towards excellence both as an athlete and as an individual.

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Essay on My Hobby- FAQs

What are hobbies.

Hobbies are activities pursued for pleasure and relaxation during leisure time. They range from creative pursuits like painting and writing to outdoor activities like gardening and hiking.

Why are hobbies important?

Hobbies provide an outlet for self-expression, reduce stress, and contribute to overall well-being. They also foster personal growth, creativity, and social connections, enhancing quality of life.

How do I find the right hobby?

Explore different activities based on your interests, passions, and talents. Try new things, attend workshops or classes, and seek inspiration from others to discover hobbies that resonate with you.

Can hobbies be beneficial for mental health?

Yes, engaging in hobbies can have positive effects on mental health by promoting relaxation, reducing anxiety and depression, and boosting self-esteem and cognitive function.

Are there benefits to pursuing multiple hobbies?

Yes, having diverse hobbies allows for a well-rounded lifestyle. Each hobby offers unique benefits, and pursuing multiple interests can provide variety, prevent burnout, and stimulate creativity.

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Essay on My Hobby

Essay generator.

Hobbies play a pivotal role in shaping our personalities and offering us a respite from the monotony of daily routines. They provide an outlet for stress, an opportunity for learning new skills, and a way to explore our passions. In this essay, I will delve into the essence of having a hobby, my personal experience with my hobby, and the multitude of ways it benefits individuals, especially students.

A hobby is more than just a pastime; it is an activity that brings joy and enriches our lives. Engaging in hobbies offers a unique blend of personal satisfaction and creative expression. Whether it’s painting, reading, gardening, playing a musical instrument, or any other activity done for pleasure, hobbies have the power to transform our leisure time into moments of productivity and joy.

My Personal Journey with My Hobby

Among the many hobbies that people enjoy, mine is reading. Reading has always been a window to the world for me, allowing me to travel through time and space, understand different cultures, and gain insights into various aspects of life without leaving the comfort of my home. It began as a casual activity in my childhood, but soon, it burgeoned into a voracious passion for exploring the vast realms of fiction, history, science, and philosophy.

Why Reading is More Than Just a Hobby

Reading is an adventure of the mind. It challenges our perspectives, broadens our horizons, and enriches our understanding. Each book is a new journey, a dive into the depths of knowledge and imagination. Through reading, I have encountered myriad characters and ideas, each teaching me lessons about life, resilience, love, and the complexity of the human condition.

The Benefits of Reading as a Hobby

Improves Cognitive Functions : Reading enhances brain connectivity, improves vocabulary and comprehension, and boosts cognitive function. It’s an exercise for the brain, much like physical activity is for the body.
Enhances Knowledge : Every book offers new information, providing insights into different aspects of life, science, culture, and philosophy. This continuous learning process enriches one’s understanding and perspective.
Develops Critical Thinking Skills : Analyzing plots, understanding character development, and evaluating the themes of a book enhance critical thinking skills, which are invaluable in academic and professional settings.
Promotes Empathy : Reading about diverse characters and their struggles promotes empathy and understanding towards people from different backgrounds and with different life experiences.
A Stress Reliever : Immersing oneself in a good book can be a great stress reliever. It allows one to escape from the pressures of everyday life and lose oneself in another world.

Integrating Reading into Daily Life

Making reading a part of daily life doesn’t require monumental changes. It starts with setting aside a specific time for reading each day, choosing books that align with personal interests, and gradually expanding one’s reading list to include a variety of genres. Joining book clubs and participating in discussions can also enhance the reading experience, offering new perspectives and making the hobby even more engaging.

The Impact of Reading on My Life

Reading has profoundly impacted my life. It has been my constant companion through various phases, offering comfort during difficult times and adding joy to my happiest days. It has shaped my personality, my values, and my aspirations. Moreover, it has equipped me with the skills and knowledge to excel academically and professionally.

Encouraging Others to Read

Encouraging others to take up reading as a hobby is about sharing the joy and benefits it brings. It’s about recommending books, sharing reading lists, and creating environments that foster a love for reading. Schools and communities can play a significant role by organizing book fairs, reading clubs, and author meet-and-greets, making reading accessible and enjoyable for everyone.

In conclusion, hobbies are essential for personal growth, relaxation, and enjoyment. My hobby, reading, has opened up a world of knowledge and imagination, providing countless benefits and shaping the person I am today. It stands as a testament to the transformative power of hobbies and their ability to enrich our lives in myriad ways. For students and individuals looking to explore their passions, develop new skills, and find a fulfilling escape from the hustle and bustle of daily life, I highly recommend finding a hobby that resonates with you. It could be reading or any other activity that brings you joy and fulfillment. Hobbies are not just pastimes; they are pathways to discovering our passions, enhancing our lives, and experiencing the world in new and exciting ways.

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My Hobby Essay

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Presenting My Hobby Essay in English for kids will help them understand how to write an essay on this topic. Students can refer to My Hobby essay for kids as a sample while drafting my hobby essay at school or any social events competition.

Given below is my hobby essay on cricket which students can refer to while drafting an essay on this topic. They can pick ideas from this sample as to what are the important points to include in their essay. You can also download these few lines about My Hobby essay in a colourful PDF format so that your kid can refer it anytime, anywhere.

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My hobby essay on cricket.

“A hobby is referred to as a person’s favourite pastime for which he/she is passionate about. Hobbies play a significant role in our lives as this occupies our minds and enriches us with the opportunity to spend time productively. Developing a hobby makes our lives enjoyable and worthwhile.

Hobbies are meant for recreational purposes and it can either be physical or a variety of other activities based on the personal preferences of a particular person. Some people enjoy reading novels, dancing, cooking, singing, drawing or painting, playing outdoor games like cricket, badminton, volleyball, etc.

Playing cricket is my hobby and it helps me in staying fit and healthy. It engages my mind, body and soul to be proactive and vigilant in my day-to-day tasks. Once I have completed my homework after school, I spend time playing cricket with my friends.

Sachin Tendulkar is my favourite cricketer and I wish to follow in his footsteps to become like him someday. I really enjoy playing cricket as it provides relaxation and is perfect for both my physical and mental health.”

My hobby essay for kids is one of the most common topics of essay writing at school. Kids often enjoy writing about my hobby essay in English as they get an opportunity to express their favourite pastime activity. They can simply put their thoughts in words and convey their feelings as to what excites them about their respective hobbies. BYJU’S offers a plethora of such interesting English essays for kids .

We hope the above sample about my hobby essay for kids proves useful to youngsters when they are asked to write my hobby essay 100 words. For more such interesting study resources , you can check and explore our Kids Learning section for more details and give your child the joy of learning new things.

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Roll an Essay Check: Gaming in the Classroom

“I think my character is … a cat.”

“Yeah, but, like … a talking cat.”

“Why a talking cat?”

“Well, so he can learn all the secrets of the town. Everyone just sees him as a cat. But he’s a key witness in the murder. The sheriff is gonna need his help to solve it.”

“Has he seen the ghost?”

“Oh, of course. He knows everything that goes on in town. Everything.”

Everyone shuffles nervously as I call for volunteers. No one will quite look at me. There’s a stiff deck of cards in my palm, adorned with strange, whimsical images of bull skulls; swords caught in a tangle of thread. I’ve explained the game, and how to play it. Looking over it was the only homework for our class today. Finally, a hand. They pull a card. Scrunch their nose. Maybe there’s a little hum as they ponder.

This is how the games in my class tend to start out. Hesitation, nerves, a general air of awkward solidarity that their new composition teacher is making them do something so off-the-book. One brave soul finally caves and agrees to participate, then another. It’s usually about ten minutes, sometimes less, before there’s the Wait, wait, wait! What about’s and the I think it would make sense to tie these together-isms that make games like this tick. The new ideas, the collaboration. The synergy that overtakes a class of formerly disparate students when they’re engaged in an act of mutual play and exploration.

“I think she’s the daughter of the former knight.” “Oh, wait, so does she, like, think he did it?” “No, she knows he’s innocent. She knows he was a good man.” “I wonder if she knows the mad scientist, then. Like, he’s the one who brought the princess back to life, so, like—” “Yeah, no, it makes sense if they were working together. What about—”

The games in my classroom come in two categories: the ones we play together, and the ones my students play on their own for homework. I like to imagine what they go back to the dorms and tell their roommates about my class. Yeah, I have to pick a game to play to write my essay about. Yeah, I can be a trucker or a witch. Or, I don’t know, maybe I’ll be the lighthouse keeper in space. [1] Many of the games we play are not well-known, little gems I found buried on the “for free” pages of Itch.io or on niche listicles. Some of them are known enough in indie tabletop spaces, with their successful Kickstarters and shiny, full color spreads. They may as well be the same to my students, who frequently come to me saying, “Like in Stranger Things ?” and know little else about the big, wide world of tabletop roleplay.

For those who, like my students, have seen a Dungeons & Dragons book in the bookstore on display one time and have never thought to touch one themselves, a tabletop game has some key differences from your probably-more-familiar video game. First, all of the rules of the game are contained in text. There may be art, or fancily-designed tables, but a tabletop game takes place in the imagination, not on your computer screen. Some of them (many of them) have you roll dice to determine the path of the story or accomplish your goals. Others may have you draw cards, or flip a coin. You might control a single character, with their own personality, backstory, and skills. Or you may oversee a whole community and explore how it changes over the course of a year. Tabletops get stranger, of course: maybe you play as a dying language [2] , maybe you play as an evolving myth [3] , maybe the players collectively play as a single fish with a knife [4] (yes, I’m serious. I, Luka Brave, the author, do not endorse finding and playing this on school property. Don’t do it).

In the examples above, somewhat fictionalized from actual in-class games, we play a game called The Family Tree (achillobators 2023), collaboratively deciding a time period, genre, and then several generations of characters who fit together into the world we’ve created. In a reflective discussion board after the game, they’re asked questions like: Do you think this story fit into the genre we agreed on at the beginning of class? What is something you think is happening behind-the-scenes in this story? What’s something bigger that’s happening in this world? Sometimes the answers back are, no, the mad scientist and vampire didn’t quite fit with the Arthurian setting we agreed on. Or, I think the murder in this Wild West town is just a distraction from the war. Students are asked to think critically about the boundaries of the story: What fit into it, what didn’t? What do we expect from our genres? What tropes are we building off of when we make characters like this? We could read a short story or two to do the same things, I suppose. But we would miss out on the opportunity to collaborate, explore, and flex our creative muscles.

“In the discussion board, it was suggested the monument is in a very cold kingdom. The snow and the cold would add to the tone we’re trying to hit with this.” “Yeah, I think the statue is in the middle of the kingdom. Like in the town square, with benches around it.” “What do we want people to feel when they’re sitting around this monument?” “I think, like … grateful. The soldiers this statue represents made such a big sacrifice to keep this kingdom safe.”

There is growing evidence for the benefits of tabletop roleplay. Tabletop roleplaying games, or TTRPGs, can expand and strengthen your social circle (Meriläinen 2012; Daniau 2016; Orr et al. 2020; Kilmer et al. 2023). Mikko Meriläinen’s 2012 survey found that 87% of people who identified as roleplayers found important relationships through roleplaying, and around 70% said that playing roleplaying games with friends was a big part of their social lives (56). Roleplaying can help develop players’ empathy, especially when playing characters that differ from themselves (59). One participant in the survey said, “I’ve taught myself to relate to other people by attempting to see life from different points of view. I think it’s because of this that I’m not completely obnoxious today” (61). In my own classroom, students bring characters that differ from themselves to the circle of desks right off the bat, completely without my prompting. Some of these may verge on the silly side, like talking cats, shunned vampires, or old lady ghosts. Others—serious and loyal knights, gruff old ranchers, cunning former spies—may explore popular tropes my students have encountered in other media and draw from in our stories with a spark of sudden inspiration. In one case study, a TTRPG player named Aidan said, “You can play so many different types of people in those games. Like, in one game I’m a female character who is a warrior and in another game I’m a small little gnome wizard” (Orr et al. 2020, p. 78). Though it is less nerve-wracking for many to start off playing a character who is more similar to them, over time, the vast majority of tabletop players will explore characters who differ from themselves physically, mentally, morally, and in core personality traits (Meriläinen 2012, p. 59)

Now, you may ask, what is the benefit of exploring other personalities, experiences, lives, in a composition classroom? You’re meant to be writing with your own voice, ain’t ya?

“Oop, I rolled a five, which means … you! Rose, it’s your second cousin—” “Oh, no.” “-uh, I need a name. A snobby old man name.” “Reginald!” “Reginald! Rose, it’s your second cousin Reginald who crashes the award ceremony y’all have been working so hard on.”

“[TTRPGs are a] hands-on, self-insert approach to story structure—how to get your point across”.

Sierra Phipps is a professional game master—the person who guides the world and progression of a multiplayer tabletop game. You can find her at the Stillwater Public Library, guiding groups of teens through “Strength of Thousands”, a Pathfinder adventure path where the teen players pretend to be students at a magical university.

The reason Phipps likes this adventure in particular is that it gets the teen players away from what she calls “video game logic”—that they can just kill everything in their path or overcome every obstacle through violence. The university students, player characters of the teens in the Adventurer’s Academy library program, are rewarded mechanically by the game for learning about rare forms of magic, figuring out ways to help their community, and even telling good stories. Lethal force, unless the students are in extreme peril, is banned at the university.

Phipps takes a sip of their coffee, waving with their free hand. “It’s really, really cool to see,” they say, as we sit in the crowded downtown coffee shop. She’s describing how quickly her players, despite having never played tabletop roleplaying games before, go from trying to hack-and-slash their way through problems to instead thinking outside-the-box and showing rapid development of critical thinking skills. Phipps, who has been a game master since 2016, largely running Pathfinder 1st and 2nd edition, Dungeons & Dragons 3rd edition and 5th edition, and smaller, independent games, said that even her very creative adult players at her home games struggled at first telling a collaborative story like the ones demanded from a tabletop. They thought that fostering those skills from a younger age would be really beneficial.

Phipps found roleplaying online during the pandemic invaluable for keeping hold of her social circle, and said they can see a big difference between the teens that gamed collaboratively online through the early Covid years and those who didn’t. “The ability to still feel connected to people who you didn’t get to see in person anymore […] the ability to still have that to ground you during all that stuff [was] really important.”

When I asked Phipps if they saw roleplaying games being helpful for composition classrooms, their answer was immediate and impassioned. “It’s access to a way to fundamentally understand by relating those concepts to yourself.”

“Who do we think the audience of our monument is?” “I think … I think this is in the future. Like, the empire didn’t build this.” “Yeah, I agree. This is after the fall.” “So, maybe this is some of the territories that came after them?” “Yeah, like … with the technologies we introduced and everything … it seems like this is a way to remember the tragedy, but from long afterwards. Like, they don’t want people to forget what happened to all those people.”

In an essay discussing TTRPGs and their great potential for fostering more civic-minded players, Susan Haarman says TTRPGs are “autotelic narrative experiences” (2022, p. 57)—that they have “the experience of playing, not the outcome, as the goal of play” (62). Tabletop game rulebooks, she says, focus around “cooperation, compromise, intentional direct action, consensus building, and imagination as explicit goals and outcomes” (56-57). In the essay, she explores a concept called “dramatic rehearsal”, first conceptualized by 20th century American scholar John Dewey. Dramatic rehearsal is the process of taking a problem and acting out a possible road for tackling it all the way until its conclusion—not only wondering the immediate ramifications, but trying to get into other mindsets and points of view to understand the broader impacts and implications of a course of action.

Tabletop games are particularly adept at this, Haarman argues. And it’s true that many studies support the idea that tabletop games foster creative problem-solving abilities and collaborative creativity (Meriläinen 2012; Daniau 2016; Dyson et al. 2016; Orr et al. 2020; Kilmer et al. 2023). Phipps stressed that this was something they saw consistently in their teen players—a rapid development of creative problem-solving skills and out-of-the-box thinking. In their 2020 essay, Felix Rose Kawitzky says that tabletop games “can present fluid conceptions of audience, character, self and world, creating space for exploratory performative exchanges”, going on to say that this murky space between what the player brings to the table, what the character wants to do, and the intersection of the real world and the game word, allows the processes that prepare people in the world—the exploration and rehearsal—to exist “at their own pace, and for their own sake” (134). This exploration of other points of view allows players—and potentially students who share these experiences in their classrooms as well—to decouple their usual methods of problem-solving from their one, singular life experience. By practicing different methods of approaching problems, players unlearn bias and think more creatively.

As Haarman says,

Role-play within games allows a person to intentionally take on a different role or traits, and, as a result, become more aware of the ways in which they unconsciously do so in normal life. Players cultivate a differing theory of mind and may intentionally try to think as though they were someone else. This both expands a player’s imagination and builds skills around critical problem solving, as they may become more aware of their own bias in thinking or gaps in knowledge. (61)

“Okay, so the doors swing open and you see the deputy—his name is … Brock—you see Brock the deputy come in he’s this young guy, like a young kid, maybe—he’s like 38 years old, like young.” “Oh my god.” “So this deputy walks in and says, ‘Okay, ladies, so I heard about some problems goin’ on here. Anyone wanna tell me what’s goin’ on?’” “I pick him up.” “You- You pick up Brock the deputy?” “Oh, yeah, and I’m just gonna start throwing things at him.” “Okay, so, Betty, you’ve picked up Brock because you’re the buffest old lady ever and don’t need to roll for that, and you- you’re just huckin’ shit, like, just huckin’ whatever you can find at him. Brock is screaming—”

During our talk, Phipps said that the teens who had played TTRPGs before—often being raised on them by parents who were similarly into the hobby—came to the table ready with a character with a big personality and their own unique voice. Those who hadn’t played were more unsure. Their characters were not quite developed, and when they spoke in-character, it was with their own, usual speaking voice. Over my own seven years of tabletop roleplay experience, I’ve played nearly 30 characters across many game systems, from wizard babies to Tennessee park rangers, from shy boar-girls to nonbinary cowboys, from young Shakespearian actresses to praying mantis alien cult leaders. None of that is including, of course, the dozens of lives I’ve inhabited in my non-player characters (or NPCs), which flesh out the world of the games I run for my own players. A werewolf’s wife. A white hat assassin. A rich zombie dandy. A god who would really prefer to be a mortal child, thank you very much.

For my students’ first major project, I ask them, as per the curriculum of Oklahoma State University’s Composition I classes, to write a personal narrative essay. Something where they are the expert on the subject—their own experience and thoughts.

But with a twist.

As a tutor in the writing center, I’ve seen a lot of personal essays come in from a range of prompts. I’ve read about family vacations, first cattle shows, the first time reading a really impactful book. These are all well and good; I don’t intend to talk down on these kinds of personal narrative assignments. Reaching back into a student’s own past, finding something that speaks to them, finding why it speaks to others—this is an important set of skills, and it makes sense to me why this is the project we start with at OSU. But, harkening back to the words of Haarman and Kawitzky, and the experiences of Sierra Phipps, before my students are allowed to reach back into the safety and comfort of their own experiences, first, they need to step out of them.

“Well, at first, I pulled that card, and I was like … okay, so I look out the window and I see some kind of animal. Maybe there’s a forest there? But then I remembered—this is in space! So, I had my guy look out and see space deer! They’re like normal deer, but they have, like, galaxies and stuff on them. They live in the space forest.”

Playing The Family Tree is often my students’ first experience with a TTRPG—a guided, collaborative in-class play session where only a few volunteers have to participate, but often the rest of the class will gain courage and pitch in their own ideas on where to guide the story and what characters we can weave into the web. Their second experience is for their personal narrative project.

Their assignment for the personal narrative is to play, and then reflect on the experience of, a solo-journaling game. That’s right—some TTRPGs can be played by yourself, too! In a solo-journaling game, the sole player will sit down with the rulebook, some method of record keeping like a pen and paper or voice recorder, and the game’s chosen method of guiding the story, referred to as an oracle. In Long Haul 1983 (Cain 2021), players use dice and playing cards to tell their story as they try to survive a cross-country road trip directly after the apocalypse. In Last Tea Shop (Spring Villager 2022), players roll dice to brew tea and share stories with the recently deceased before they continue on their journey to the afterlife.

Solo TTRPGs cover an exquisite breadth of genres, tones, and gameplay experiences. Some—like Long Haul 1983—play up the suspense and lean into the potential horror. Others, like Last Tea Shop, offer a quiet and meditative experience. Out of the big, wide world of solo TTRPGs, I select five [5] for my students to choose from (wouldn’t want to overwhelm them right off the bat!) when they sit down to plan for their personal narrative project. I offer to them a secondary choice: you’re free to play these games as a fictionalized version of yourself, but you can play as any character that you think fits in the narrative of the game.

The responses to this choice vary. Plenty of students play as themselves. Others play as family members, or people the game makes them think of. Others still inhabit entirely new characters, with names, backstories, families—professional athletes, hard-working single fathers, magical talking cats, weathered explorers, former soldiers, kindly and wise shopkeepers. For many students, this is their first time developing a fictional character: one who they understand, can guide the dialogue of, can think their thoughts. It’s often the most resistant students to this exercise that form the most meaningful experiences from it; those that rigidly resist the nontraditional assignment find themselves moved and grateful for even a brief glimpse into another life, another mind.

In our discussion, Sierra Phipps said that often in their teens, tabletop roleplay brings an “appreciation for other people’s opinions in a way that doesn’t feel like criticism”. During the game Snow (Sampetto 2022), one phase of the game is “Another Perspective”, where your character, whom you are guiding through thinking about a difficult challenge, takes the perspective of someone else in their life who might have something interesting to say about the trouble that’s on their mind. It’s a double-layer effect—first, you put yourself in the mind of a character. Then, that character puts themself in the mind of someone even more removed, even more fictional. However, this is often the stage of play that stands out the most to the students who play it. They start to see the benefits of this game not only to their assignment, but their broader lives as well. The next stage of play, “Gratitude”, seems to come all-the-easier for it. In their essays, my students reflect, I really didn’t think I would get much out of this, but I didn’t even realize I felt better about this real problem I was having until the game was done. Tabletop games can be powerful forces of creative collaboration, but they also house an incredible engine for deep thought and reflection. Phipps remarked that after months of roleplaying with other teens at the library, her players were more open-minded, open to critical discussions, and had a deeper ability to understand concepts past just their surface level.

“Alright, what do y’all want to do?”

Dr. Bengt Nijre, a Swedish disability scholar, did extensive work on the concept of self-determination. While he was mostly focused on the disabled population of 1960s and 70s Sweden, his work still remains important and broadly-applicable today. Modern disability scholars still uphold his values—normalization, autonomy, and respect. These are things all of us need, disabled and abled alike. And, his research on self-determination can be just as easily brought into discussions about college classrooms.

Nijre, in his research, identified some key features of self-determination to include “making choices”, “self-management”, and “self-knowledge” (Ward 2005, p. 108). Expanding on this framework, Mithaug et al. developed the Adaptability Instructional Model to teach students with disabilities how to regulate themselves and their own behavior. This model included, “(a) teaching students to identify and set goals, (b) engaging in independent performance through self-monitoring, (c) evaluating their performance in terms of an existing standard, and (d) learning from their mistakes and adjusting their goals” (109). To me, this sounds like something that can be perfectly mapped onto gameplay in the classroom. Both Nijre and Mithaug et al.’s work goes back to the concept of self-efficacy—the ability to face challenges, feel confident in facing them, put hard work in, fail a few times, and then accomplish your goal. And, according to Dr. Jane McGonigal, director of Game Research and Development at the Institute for the Future—games are perfect self-efficacy-building machines. According to her own research, and the research of leading neuroscientists like Dr. Judy Willis, when we play a game—setting goals, taking on increasingly difficult challenges, failing until we succeed, and then immediately moving on to the next slightly harder task—the self-efficacy that this builds in us is “hardwired into the brain” (2015, p. 89, emphasis removed). This means that, even outside of gaming, gamers are more likely to put hard work into challenges they’re faced with in the real world (pp. 86-87).

A lot is asked of our little first-year composition classrooms. But is this—for our students to be self-determined people, to be able to make choices for themselves and follow through on them, to not only be able to take on challenges, but be eager to do so, and confident they can eventually succeed—not an important goal? Composition, on paper (get it?), is about writing. But, more than that, the students who leave our comp classes should feel determined that college is something they’re prepared for, even when it gets tricky. They won’t roll a critical success every time, but they know that if they fail a particular challenge, they can get back up and try again.

“Aw, man, well, thanks for playin’, y’all. I thought that was a lot of fun. Now, let’s go over to our worksheet …”

Finding ways to play gets ever-more important as you get older, more distant from the days of mud potions and playground wars. It’s a vital ingredient in living a good and fulfilling life. But it’s also a powerful tool of development, expression, and inner strength. As developmental psychologist Dr. Karyn Purvis said, “Play disarms fear, builds connectedness, and teaches social skills and competencies for life” (Parris & Hernandez 2020). The students who game together in my classroom are not just classmates—but a party. Collaborators and allies.

Through tabletop roleplay, I was able to learn new skills, make new friends, and process my experiences in order to grow as a person. I’m far from the only one. Games are reflection-prompting, empathy-evolving, self-efficacy-building engines that can bring people together creatively, sparking unique ways of thinking and developing more paths to solve challenges, all in collaboration and joy. College is tough—and that’s not a bad thing. But by bringing games into the classroom, we can make that challenge all the more engaging, and give students new ways to learn and grow. Sometimes writing that final paper can feel as tough as fighting a dragon. Why can’t they be one and the same?

Works Cited

Achillobators. The Family Tree. itch.io, 31 Jan. 2023, https://achillobators.itch.io/the-family-tree, Accessed 4 Feb. 2023.

Cain, Sean P. Long Haul 1983. itch.io, 22 Mar. 2021, https://spc.itch.io/longhaul1983, Accessed 19 Aug. 2023.

Daniau, S. “The Transformative Potential of Role-Playing Games—: From Play Skills to Human Skills.” Simulation and Gaming, vol. 47, no. 4, Aug. 2016, pp. 423-444–444. EBSCOhost, https://doi.org/10.1177/1046878116650765.

Dyson, Scott Benjamin, et al. “The Effect of Tabletop Role-Playing Games on the Creative Potential and Emotional Creativity of Taiwanese College Students.” Thinking Skills and Creativity, vol. 19, Mar. 2016, pp. 88–96. EBSCOhost, https://doi.org/10.1016/j.tsc.2015.10.004.

Haarman, Susan. “Dungeons & Dragons & Dewey: The Potential for Dramatic Rehearsal and Civic Outcomes in Tabletop Role-Playing Games.” Philosophical Studies in Education, vol. 53, Jan. 2022, pp. 56–70. ERIC, https://eric.ed.gov/?id=EJ1366548.

Kawitzky, Felix Rose. “Magic Circles: Tabletop Role-Playing Games as Queer Utopian Method.” Performance Research, vol. 25, no. 8, Dec. 2020, pp. 129–36. EBSCOhost, https://doi.org/10.1080/13528165.2020.1930786.

Kilmer, Elizabeth D., et al. Therapeutically Applied Role-Playing Games: The Game to Grow Method. Routledge, Taylor & Francis Group, 2023.

McGonigal, Jane. SuperBetter: A Revolutionary Approach to Getting Stronger, Happier, Braver, and More Resilient*. Penguin Press, 2015.

Meriläinen, Mikko. “The self-perceived effects of the role-playing hobby on personal development – a survey report.” International Journal of Role-Playing, no. 3, 28 Dec. 2012, pp. 49-68, https://doi.org/10.33063/ijrp.vi3.224.

Orr, Matthew, et al. “A Qualitative Exploration of the Perceived Social Benefits of Playing Tabletop Role-playing Games.” International Journal of Role-Playing, no. 10, 9 Nov. 2020, pp. 70-83, https://doi.org/10.33063/ijrp.vi10.277.

Parris, Sheri and Christian Hernandez. “The Benefits of Play in Cognitive Development.” Karyn Purvis Institute of Childhood Development, Texas Christian University, Accessed 20 Apr. 2024.

Sampetto. Snow, a meditative TTRPG. itch.io, 4 Oct. 2022, https://sampetto.itch.io/snow, Accessed 30 Nov. 2022.

Spring Villager. Last Tea Shop Complete. itch.io, 17 July 2022, https://springvillager.itch.io/last-tea-shop-complete, Accessed 15 Aug. 2023.

Ward, Michael J. “An Historical Perspective of Self-Determination in Special Education: Accomplishments and Challenges.” Research and Practice for Persons with Severe Disabilities, vol. 30, no. 3, 2005, pp. 108–12, https://doi.org/10.2511/rpsd.30.3.108.

This resource is no cost at https://open.library.okstate.edu/goodthingstoread/

The games referenced here, in order, are Long Haul 1983 by Sean Patrick Cain, Hedgewitch by Shouting Crow Games, and The Lighthouse at the Edge of the Universe by Lost Ways Club. ↵
The game is Dialect by Thorny Games. Thorny Games has made several games about language, and in Dialect, you build a community, and a language for that community to use, and then explore how that language is lost and dies over time. ↵
There are multiple games that fit this bill, but the one that comes to my mind is Apotheosis by Gordie Murphy, where you design a culture with a unique history, and then explore how its main legend evolves over time as the culture does. ↵
Yes, I promise this is a real game. It is satirical, and was based on a Tweet making fun of indie TTRPGs. It’s called Spin the Fishblade by Marshall Bradshaw, and the players all collectively control one fish, who has a knife, by … spinning a knife around. Again, not allowed to play on campus. You did not hear about this game from me. If anybody asks, this was something you already knew about. All students who read this essay must come pre-installed with knowledge of Spin the Fishblade for my own legal comfort. Thank you. ↵
The games I assign as options for the personal narrative essay are Hedgewitch by Shouting Crow Games, Last Tea Shop by Spring Villager, The Lighthouse at the Edge of the Universe by Lost Ways Club, Long Haul 1983 by Sean Patrick Cain, and Snow by Sampetto. In previous semesters, I have assigned Yourself by Kaden Ramstack. ↵

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Everyday Dangers

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An Essay on My Hobby is Playing Kabaddi [PDF]

Today in this essay presentation, we are going show you the example essay on my hobby is playing Kabaddi.

I love athletics. For me playing sports is fun and exhilarating. I enjoy the social aspect, the competition, and the skills it takes to play just about any game or team sport. My body has become a fine-tuned machine because of the skills I have developed.

Out of all the sports, there are, I enjoy Kabaddi the most. I grew up playing it and despite any disagreements the game never gets old. It is fun to try to tag the other players and run up the score.

One aspect I like is that it is a simple game to play. There are no balls to learn how to dribble or bounce. There is no special equipment outside of the team uniform and there are no walls or other obstacles that you can run into and hurt yourself.

Kabaddi is pure clean fun that allows me to spend time with my friends staying healthy and enjoying the fresh air if we play outside. The lack of equipment means that we have to use our minds, create a great strategy and be able to move fast in order to win the game. Those aspects really appeal to me.

In some ways, Kabaddi is like chess. You use your mind, create strategies and try to move out of danger as fast as you can in chess as well. Outwitting my opponents is far more attractive than trying to beat them physically like basketball or other physical athletic sports.

Of course, the women get the smaller playing field but I do not mind. The extra space to run allows me to stay in top shape and remain healthy. Another aspect I like is that a lot of my friends can play at the same time.

With 7 players on the field, very few are left out of the fun and the action. Of course, some versions have only 4 players but that is still large enough for everyone to enjoy themselves and play hard.

The one difficulty I always have trouble with is holding my breath and shouting all the time I am running. It is a challenge and training to get that right is not always fun. It is hard to say how many points I have cost my team because I just can’t get that requirement right.

Kabaddi is my hobby and there is a good reason for it being that way. I do not think I am good enough to play the game professionally. I would like to but my talents are not fully developed where I can match wits and stamina with those who have played professionally for years.

It would be exciting to have thousands of people cheering for me to get that winning point without sacrificing any. As it stands we have about 20 people cheering us on when we play on the weekends.

That may not be exciting or a large crowd but at least we get to entertain a few friends who can’t play and help them have a great time during the match. Usually, it is just our girlfriends who show up and cheer us on.

For me, that is enough and I am content with making her proud. I may not be a great player but in her eyes, I am a hero and that helps motivate me to practice hard and get better at the game.

Even when we lose she is there to help cheer me and make me feel better. That is one of the best reasons for playing Kabaddi. Having thereafter we finish means the world to me.

The simplicity of Kabaddi does not mean it is a bad sport to pay. Instead, that makes the game more fun as there are not a lot of tricks to master or equipment to fail. It is hard to imagine a better sport to play than this one.

How was the essay on Kabaddi? I hope you like it if so let me know in the comment section.

Read More Essay on My Aim in Life to Become an Engineer An Essay on My Ambition in Life to Become a Scientist An Essay on My Aim in Life to Become a Police Officer An Essay on My Aim in Life to Become a Soldier

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My Hobby Playing Football | [Essay for Students]

Hello, students today I have come up with an essay on My hobby playing football. In this essay I have told why I love playing football. So let us start with the essay.

My hobby playing football.

My hobby is playing football. There is something about the intensity and excitement of the game that I find thrilling. Whether I am playing on a team or just kicking the ball around with friends, I always enjoy the challenge and camaraderie of football.

In conclusion, my hobby is playing football. It keeps me active and healthy, allows me to be part of a team, and has social and cultural significance. Although it is not without its challenges, I find playing football to be a rewarding and enjoyable activity.

Students, why do you like the sport of football the most? Do tell us in the comment section below.

This essay can be used by students of classes 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th, 6th, 7th, 8th, 9th, 10th, 11th, and 12th for their educational purposes. This essay can also be used on following topic.

My Favorite sports Football.

Students, hope you liked this essay and if you need an essay on any topic then do tell us in the comment section below.

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My Mother, the Gambler

A photo of the writer Victor Lodato as a baby with his parents and his older brother in New Jersey.

“Give me three numbers, baby.” My mother made this request often—so often, in fact, that when I try to remember her voice this is what I hear. I can see her, too. She’s in the kitchen, sitting at the white Formica table, the green wall phone behind her, the phone she’ll soon pick up to place her bet. She’s smiling, because this moment is capacious: everything’s possible. It’s a moment in which—unless you’re a pessimist, and my mother is not—Fortune is on your side.

She’s dressed for the occasion, in a flower-print top and stretchy yellow slacks, as if to advertise her innocence before breaking the law. Of course, for a long time I didn’t know that what my mother was doing was illegal. She certainly didn’t look like a criminal, sitting there with her blond hair intricately coiffed. The stylist had made it look like a sfogliatella , a kind of Neapolitan pastry that we often had in the house. My mother’s hair possessed the same golden hue, the same artful construction of multilayered swoops. Plus, the glossy lacquer of Aqua Net was not unlike the sugar on the pastry. That this delectable human might want my advice made me feel giddy.

I don’t recall her ever asking my brother for numbers. My brother was older, more confident, more defined as a person. Perhaps, as such, he lacked mystery. So my mother looked to me, the quiet one.

Possibly my inwardness gave the impression I might be in contact with whatever invisible forces were responsible for luck. No doubt she’d also noted my fervent superstitions, which involved the need to arrange things perfectly or to perform an action a certain number of times. It was important, for instance, that the hanging bits of my shoelaces not touch the floor and that everything on my desk be an equal distance apart. When leaving for school, I made sure to touch three separate leaves on the maple tree just outside our door. These rituals, done correctly, could stave off doom—though perhaps my mother interpreted my behavior not as an attempt to avoid misfortune but as a spell to invoke success.

What would later be diagnosed as obsessive-compulsive disorder was, at this point, just another aspect of what was openly called my oddness. I had heard my father say to strangers that he had no idea where I’d come from. Sometimes he said he’d found me in a garbage can. I was also referred to as “the Polack,” since I was light-haired and fair-skinned, unlike my swarthy parents and my brother, who looked robustly Italian; the one-quarter Polish heritage from my paternal grandmother had staked its claim in me.

At least I had my mother’s nose, and, more important, I had inherited her belief in magic. Both of us understood that in order to survive it was necessary to arrange things in a certain way. You had to take life’s terrifying unpredictabilities and rally them, by ritual or formula, into an army that would do your bidding.

There was a period of several months when I kept suggesting my mother play the same three numbers. Seven, one, four. Something about that arrangement seemed friendly, not to mention that the numbers added up to twelve, which, when added again—one plus two—gave you three, meaning the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. I saw no sacrilege in this reference to the Trinity. Gambling, I sensed, was a kind of prayer—though my mother didn’t always direct these prayers toward God. Sometimes she invoked the dead, playing the birth date of a deceased relative, often her grandmother. Such bets were akin to lighting candles in church, which you had to pay for, too. Both transactions were a request to be remembered by Heaven—to be helped, or saved.

And we needed help. We were poor—though this word was not one my family used back then. “Hardworking,” my mother might have said with a smirk, rightly indicating that the people who worked the hardest often had the least to show for it. “No pot to piss in,” as my father liked to put it. A waitress and a barber, they could get only so far.

Welfare, for which we likely would have qualified, was unthinkable. My parents, the descendants of immigrants who had never been naturalized, had inherited a residue of fear and shame when it came to the government. They didn’t want their names in the system or on a list .

Besides, we weren’t starving , and we’d recently moved to a house in the suburbs of New Jersey. The first time I suggested the numbers seven, one, four to my mother, she said, “Do you mean seven, one, two?” The address of the apartment building in Hoboken where we used to live was 712 Adams Street. “The penthouse,” my father called it—a tenth-floor walkup, with ill-lit stairwells reeking of urine. The tiny cold-water flat had no heating system other than the stove in the kitchen, which explains why in holiday photographs from that time my brother and I sit under an artificial Christmas tree as if dressed for an Arctic expedition.

Still, my mother occasionally played the old number—712. Her commitment to the past was baffling. Why look to that horrible apartment building for luck, especially now that we had a house of our own?

My mother’s parents had moved in with us, too, as had my father’s widowed mother, pale and skinny—the other Polack. At first, my grandmothers seemed less than happy. In Hoboken, they’d been able to walk everywhere. Now a car was required, and neither had ever learned to drive. In fact, neither had attended high school. They were quiet and humble women who, for many years, had worked as laborers—one in a laundry, the other as a housekeeper. But their real vocation appeared to be religion. My nonna and my babcia were so devout that they seemed like witches. When mumbling their prayers over rosary beads, their tongues turned thick and foreign. And, in their bedrooms, they kept a menagerie of plaster saints—figures that lived in a flickering garden of ever-blooming candles. To me, those tiny altars were the pilot lights of our house.

I loved my grandmothers with an intensity that was almost febrile; I flushed in their presence, greedy for attention, as well as in the knowledge that it would be given. They were the women who fed me, dressed me, put me to bed. To have both of them now under the same roof was the epitome of luck.

When I was feeling particularly anxious, I would sit beside my Polish grandmother; I’d take her hand and, using one of her fingers like a pen, trace circles on my palm. At a certain point, she would understand what I needed and begin to trace the circles herself. But eventually she’d toss my hand away and say, “Enough.”

Downstairs, in a separate apartment on the first floor, my Italian grandmother was always ready to receive me. Even if I wasn’t hungry, I’d claim that I was, and soon I’d be offered a piece of crusty bread with butter, or a bowl of steaming farina.

My mother had always taken a back seat in regard to child rearing, but now she had more freedom than ever and could focus more fully on her passions. In addition to playing her numbers, the so-called Italian lottery, she bet heavily on football. Watching the games on television, she would shout at the screen, gesticulating with her perfectly manicured hands. Shocking four-letter words emerged effortlessly through scarlet lips, in a voice deeper than my father’s.

Often, she watched with my uncles, and the shouting grew so loud that it terrified me. At the time, I didn’t understand how much money was riding on the outcome. I was aware only of the cheering that would lift my mother and the men from their seats or the swearing that would make my grandmothers retreat into the kitchen. I would escape, too, usually to the closet in my bedroom. It was around this time, when I was eight or nine, that I learned the comfort of tight spaces and the pleasure of rocking my body—both of which seemed to short-circuit the fear centers in my brain.

I also began to keep notebooks in which I wrote poems with tyrannical meters—another kind of rocking. I drew pictures, mostly animals, and kept lists, often mundane—the titles of all the movies I’d seen or the first names of the kids in my class. I might record an overheard conversation, one that had confused or upset me. Some days, all I could manage was to scribble endless spirals, or to write the word “win” over and over, doing my part to help my mother prosper.

My father wasn’t a gambler, though he had come from one. His father was a truck driver who’d once, in an all-night poker game, won enough to buy a vehicle and start his own short-haul delivery business. I was also told that he’d won a horse named Lollipop—a name he thought demeaning and quickly changed to Lady. My grandfather’s plan was to train her to race, illegally, on bush tracks. But Lady, kept at a cheap stable in Weehawken, died of colic. The following year, after another winning streak—this time on boxing matches—my grandfather died, too, of cirrhosis of the liver.

The cycle of the gambler—from despair and lack to hope and reward—was endless, both frustrating and beguiling. My father had experienced this long before he’d met my mother. He understood how her addiction could lead the family in one of two directions—either up the ladder or down.

Living in a new house seemed like a miracle to me; I didn’t understand how precarious our situation was, financially—the growing debts, the heavy burden of the mortgage. Nor did I understand the kinds of people my mother was involved with. My father has never been completely forthcoming about those years, but I do know that the down payment for the house was funded in part by gambling wins.

During those early days in the suburbs, my mother seemed as optimistic as ever. She’d managed to secure a number of credit cards, on which she could access cash advances. Perhaps it was these, along with the occasional windfall from the Italian lottery, that accounted for some of the over-the-top Christmases I experienced as a child—holidays in which my brother and I received a ridiculous amount of presents. There were Easters when, instead of dyed eggs, our egg hunts featured plastic eggshells stuffed with money. Certain years, the bills were singles, but other years there were fives and tens, even twenties.

In September, before school began, my mother would drive my brother and me to Schlesinger’s, a clothing store in West New York, where we were each allowed to pick out ten items. My mother was usually in a good mood and, for the most part, unconcerned with price or appropriate attire. She’d let my brother buy two pairs of sneakers or five football jerseys. But once, when I found a skintight shirt with a sparkly rose emblazoned across the chest, my mother seemed hesitant. “You’re skinny enough,” she said—focussing more on the fit than on the fact that I’d chosen something clearly meant for a disco queen. “It looks like diamonds,” I said. The comment was strategic. My mother had recently lost the stone in her engagement ring—or had she sold it? Anyway, I managed to sway her. “Just don’t wear it to school,” she said. I promised—a lie. When my brother scowled, I understood the reason. Kids in the neighborhood had started to call me “faggot.”

I knew the word, though in my mind then it meant something like “girl”—or, rather, a boy who was like a girl. And though the insult stung I could bear it by reminding myself that my favorite people were women, and these women had once been girls.

Every Friday, my parents went out to dinner. Sometimes they attended a concert or a Broadway show. Other activities my mother did alone. On a whim, she’d get dolled up and go to the track. Some weekends, she drove to a private club, where she liked the blackjack table. I remember my father, one day, accusing her of straying too far. After that, she did what she could to make her fun at home. Once or twice a month, she hosted late-night card parties. These parties were attended mostly by women, many of whom, like my mother, sported impressive confections of hair. Cigarettes dangled intrepidly from their lips—cigarettes they could inhale without the use of hands. All it took was a deft smirk, leaving their fingers free to focus on the cards.

The games were played around our kitchen table, after my brother and I had gone to bed. My father hovered at the periphery, watching TV in the living room until he fell asleep on the couch. Even from down the hall, I could smell the women’s perfume, my mother’s Opium coming through the strongest. As the night progressed, the scents grew wilder as they mingled with the women’s sweat. These gatherings, I later learned, were high-stakes affairs. Hundreds could be lost or gained.

The day after a card party, my mother would stay in bed later than usual. Before leaving for school, my brother and I would slip into her room to ask for money. She always allowed us to peel a few singles from the roll of bills she kept in her pocketbook. Sometimes that roll was skinny; other times it was as fat as a ball of mozzarella, and just as tempting. But, even as I could read my brother’s mind (“Why not take a little extra?”), my mother could read it, too. “Don’t even think about it,” she’d growl, her voice thick with slumber.

Not long after my eleventh birthday, the house began to hum with a new energy. The phone rang constantly. “Your mother’s friends,” my father called them. “Is Sophie there?” they’d ask, if I happened to pick up the phone.

By this point, she was not only playing her numbers but also taking bets for others. There was a pad beside the phone, on which she would write the caller’s name and a dollar amount, along with their hopeful chain of digits. Sometimes the word “box” or “straight” was included.

Since my mother was often out, she instructed my Polish grandmother to take down the information in her absence. When she asked what it was all about, my mother said she was doing someone a favor. Once, she said it was a game some girls were playing at work. No one questioned her, not even my father.

Now and then, the calls would come during dinner. My mother always sat closest to the wall where the phone was. Nearby, she had a tiny metal table on which she kept her pad. Mostly she’d finish these mealtime transactions quickly, but occasionally she’d get up, pulling the phone, which had an extra-long cord, all the way into the living room.

Whatever secrets she had seemed connected to our growing prosperity. During the summer, we were able to go to the shore for a week, stay at a hotel, eat three-course dinners in restaurants that looked like fishing boats. In the evenings, on the boardwalk, we’d play the wheels, shoot the guns, toss the balls. When the vacation was over, we drove home with the fruits of our good fortune—stuffed animals, cartons of cigarettes, goldfish in plastic bags. My brother and I put the fish in a water pitcher or a mixing bowl, hoping they wouldn’t die. Eventually, my father installed a pond in the yard, and the goldfish flashed around for years, reminding us of our luck.

That is, until the day my brother and I came home from school to find police cars parked in front of the house. My fear, always a trickster, convinced me that the police cars had something to do with me; I was not a normal person, and I knew that one day I’d be punished. My impulse was to get away, maybe hide in the woods near our house. But then my brother ran up the front steps and through the door, and I followed him.

Inside, all the lights were on—something my father never allowed. There were men everywhere, some in uniforms, some in suits. I rushed down to my nonna’s apartment, but neither she nor my grandfather was there. When I climbed the stairs again, a female neighbor was stationed in the kitchen, saying she’d take me and my brother to her place. I refused. “Where are my grandmothers?” I kept asking. Watching the men opening drawers and looking in closets, I felt a kind of nauseous outrage. When I saw the strangers in the hallway outside my bedroom, I thought of my notebooks. “You can’t go in there!” I screamed. My brother, in a moment of tenderness, touched my arm. “Let’s go,” he whispered.

For days after the raid, I worried that the police had read my notebooks—all that incriminating evidence. I felt certain they would return to fetch me.

Of course, the cops had no interest in the scribblings of an eleven-year-old boy. It turned out they had my Polish grandmother on tape, implicated in what I heard called a “numbers racket.” She was arrested, as was my mother. The two of them were booked, their photographs taken, their fingerprints. My grandmother was humiliated. I was told that she asked to remove the crucifix around her neck before they photographed her, but that this request was denied.

I prayed at her bedroom altar, kept her candles lit. My grandmother was released. The authorities believed her when she said she had no idea what she was doing. Besides, the police were after bigger fish—one of them being my big blond mother.

But she got off, too; I’m not sure how. “Friends in high places,” I recall my father saying, while my brother, using pulp-fiction logic, had the audacity to ask my mother if she’d turned other people in. I was sure she was going to slap him. But she fell into a stunned silence, and tears came to her eyes.

“I would never do that.”

Many years later, long after my mother died, I spoke with her brother, my uncle Frank, and asked him about the people my mother had worked for. My uncle tilted his head: “Let’s just say they weren’t people you wanted to screw with.” He mentioned some names and then immediately encouraged me to forget them. He was cagey and kept trying to change the subject.

But, in the end, he did tell me a little more about the nature of the business. “Your mother was a runner,” he said. “Like a salesman. She brought bets to the bookie, got a commission.”

“But what were the numbers?” I asked. “How did that work?”

My uncle explained that, every day, there’d be a notice in the newspaper which listed the previous day’s earnings at a New York racetrack, and that the game was to guess the last three numbers of that amount.

When I asked about the meaning of “box” and “straight,” he looked at me like I was an idiot.

“You could play the numbers in their exact order,” he said. “That’s straight. Or you could box them, which meant that if your numbers came out in any order you’d win something. It cost more, but you won less.”

I was curious if my mother had ever won big. My uncle shrugged. “What’s big? Sometimes it gave her a little extra. Your mother hated having no cash in her pocket. She said it made her feel naked.” He added that most of what she’d won had gone to the princes.

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I assumed my uncle was speaking about the men my mother had worked for. But when I asked, “Who were the princes?,” he said, “Don’t be stupid. You and your brother.”

For a while after my mother was arrested, she seemed to be a changed woman. At this point, she was working as a waitress in the skyboxes at Giants Stadium. She often pulled double shifts and came home exhausted. There were no more card parties. At night, she’d drink coffee and watch police procedurals on television. She slept very little. Sometimes she played electronic poker on a small device whose chirps and dings I could hear in my bedroom. In the mornings, I’d find her sitting at the kitchen table, paying our bills or figuring out the household budget.

Strangely, even with my mother’s propensity for gambling, my father had always let her take care of the finances; he claimed that she was better with numbers.

Now and then, my Italian grandmother would climb the stairs to check on her daughter. “ Tutto bene ?” she’d ask unsteadily, clearly out of breath. She’d started to speak more often in her native tongue. Curses? Prayers? Accusations? I comprehended none of it.

My other grandmother resumed her housekeeping duties with a demented vigor, as if the scrubbing and polishing could remove the stain of her sins. She rarely spoke to my mother, the tension between them palpable. The silence was toxic; I could feel it in my chest, like smog.

My mother was too proud, or perhaps too ashamed, to apologize; and my grandmother, I assume, was too aware that she lived in our house by the grace of my parents’ kindness.

After the arrest, my babcia was easily overcome by emotion. Sometimes the cause of a breakdown seemed trivial. Once, I heard my father ask her what was going on with the towels—why were they so rough, shouldn’t she be using fabric softener? My grandmother made a strange gulping sound and walked out of the kitchen. I found her downstairs, crying as she stood beside the washing machine. “He treats me like a servant,” she said. “Your mother, too.”

A moment after her outburst, she wiped her eyes and began to defend my father: “I know he works hard. I know he didn’t mean it.” She was petting my face now, in an effort to distract me from her brush with honesty.

I understood then that there was a warning here. It seemed that if you didn’t express yourself you ended up a prisoner. And, though you might blame others for this, in truth the jailer was yourself. I was a prisoner, too. There were many things I couldn’t bear to say; instead, I buried them in notebooks. I was a coward, and my silence, like my grandmother’s, had a lot to do with shame.

No one in the house was speaking honestly. We went about our days, as before, but all of us were just pretending things were fine. Every time the phone rang, I could see the worry on my father’s face.

But, as the months passed and nothing happened, life resumed its ease. My parents had even befriended a priest. My mother, who never cooked, once spent a whole afternoon making cream puffs before he came to visit. I watched, disgusted, as he ate five, then six, then seven. I counted, of course, and later wrote the number in my notebook.

The priest wasn’t from our church; I’m not sure where my parents met him—maybe at a party. In addition to having a sweet tooth, he drank a lot of wine, and his smile was often counterfeit; I could tell by the way his eyes failed to participate.

My grandmothers, however, seemed charmed by him. When my babcia asked him to bless the house, he happily obliged, using a tiny vial of holy water. I recall feeling upstaged; apparently my own rituals were no longer sufficient to insure our safety.

Sometimes I wondered why I was working so hard. The worst had happened and my family had survived. Perhaps I could learn to resist the tyranny of my compulsions. Slowly, I let down my guard. When I tapped the maple leaves now, it was out of habit rather than as an obsessive act of magic. My grandmothers became less vigilant, too. Every so often, I would notice that, in one of their bedrooms, no candle was burning. Even today, I blame this laxness for what was yet to happen.

About two years later, I was sitting at the dinner table with my family when suddenly my brother began to cry. The moment was disorienting because my brother rarely shed a tear.

My father seemed more annoyed than sympathetic. “What?” he said.

Finally, my brother looked up. “Are you selling the house?” he asked.

My father was scowling now. “What are you talking about?”

When my brother spoke again, his words came out in jagged, breathless shards—something about a kid at school, something the kid’s mother had read in the newspaper.

Apparently, there was a notice in the paper that our house was up for sale. “Don’t be ridiculous,” my mother said. My father added, “Your friend is full of shit.”

My father didn’t rush through dinner, which calmed us. But, afterward, he got up and went into the living room, sat in his easy chair, and unfolded the local paper, where he learned that what my brother had said was true. Our house was to be auctioned off at the end of the month—not by my father but by the county sheriff.

I’m not sure what happened next; there’s a gap in my memory. Certainly, there must have been an argument, accusations, apologies. I have a vague recollection of my mother saying something about “a mistake.” My memory wakes up a few days later. My parents are whispering in the kitchen. And then the whispering turns to shouting. My mother, defending herself, sounds like an unrepentant child: “It’s not my fault!”

I later came to understand that for nearly a year my mother had failed to make the mortgage payments. She’d also secured a line of credit against the equity, and it seemed that my father’s signature on this loan was forged.

The money, most likely, had gone toward more of my mother’s prayers—numbers and horses and blackjack. “I was almost there,” she said once, her martyred eyes looking toward the ceiling. If there was sadness, it didn’t appear to be about what she’d done; it seemed to be about the fact that her magic had failed her.

My father had a new voice now, hammering, unkind; he had no patience for any of us. I was often afraid to talk to him. My father says he doesn’t recall this part of our life; other times he actively denies his aggressive behavior. My brother denies it, too. But I clearly remember the way my father would suddenly turn violent. “Get on my bed!” he’d scream, marching us toward his room. I’d hear the jangle of buckles as he opened the door to his armoire, inside of which his belts hung. I knew my father was taking things out on us that he’d never take out on my mother. Although he yelled at her, he never struck her. Some days, I feared that if my father did not whip my brother and me he might end up killing our mother.

Discipline became the doctrine of the house. There were new rules, new lines my brother and I had to be careful not to cross. When my father saw me in a ripped T-shirt I’d let dangle off one shoulder, he said I looked like a pansy. I tried to defend myself, saying the shirt had come that way and the rips were part of the style.

“Are they?” my father said. He walked toward me, grabbed the collar of my shirt, and proceeded to rip it further. In my memory, this assault feels more terrible than the whippings. I am flayed, ridiculed, reduced.

Everything about my presence seemed to irritate him. Noise was a particular issue—the volume of the television, the way I closed a cabinet, the clamor of my laughter. Of course, my father’s voice wasn’t subject to such rules. During one particularly loud argument between my parents, my grandfather lumbered up the stairs—I assumed to defend his daughter. But, instead, he joined my father and began to shout at her: “What are we supposed to do, girl? Live on the fucking street?” As he turned to go back downstairs, his grumbled invectives descended, too, into his dark Neapolitan dialect.

Later that night, I heard my father crying. The sound jerked out of him in strange squeaks, as if someone were wiping a mirror. My grandmothers, in their rooms, were crying, too.

Despite the chaos of those weeks, my father came up with a plan. He talked to relatives, friends, colleagues, and, though it must have pained him to do so, he asked each of them for a loan, any amount they could spare. Some folks could offer only a few hundred bucks, but others gave more. My mother said she could borrow a little money, too, but my father, suspicious of her sources, said no.

My mother was no longer herself. A few days after we learned about the loss of the house, she cut her hair. She now had a short, dense bristle, almost mannish. She looked like a thug, or a Buddhist nun. It was hard to understand if her new style was an act of aggression or of renunciation. While my father made frantic telephone calls, my mother was often pacing in the back yard, smoking cigarettes.

Sometimes, through a window, I’d watch her; if she spotted me, she’d offer a little wave, shake her head. I always thought she was saying, “Leave me alone, go away.” But now I think perhaps she was trying to tell me something else, the same thing she kept saying to me when she lay dying: “I’m sorry, baby.”

My father kept track of his loans in a ledger, which he stored in the bottom drawer of his armoire. Before the auction was held, he managed to borrow enough to save the house—though what should have been a triumph felt more like a funeral. My father was pale, his features frozen.

As the years passed, he’d pay off what he could. At the end of every week, he’d place his hard-earned cash in envelopes, many of which he’d hand-deliver, in increments of ten or twenty dollars. All accounting went into the ledger. My father’s penmanship was like a child’s; he wrote in print, having never learned cursive. When I finally left for college, he was no longer the slim, fit man he’d been in his youth. His hair had thinned, then grayed. I didn’t recognize him.

It was the same with my mother. She was a mystery to me, her undeniable generosity chafing against the fact that she was willing to risk everything our family had.

Ultimately, my father made good on all his debts. When I asked him once how long it took, he said, “Years! I wanted to strangle your mother. But I always knew what I was getting into. Your mother was trouble from the start.” Even as he said this, though, I could see the smile held in check.

By the time my father had paid everyone back, he and my mother appeared to have made peace with each other. I’d moved to Arizona, but when I came to visit for the holidays I’d notice my parents laughing together, and sometimes I’d see them kiss. My father didn’t even seem to mind when my mother said she wanted to take a trip to Las Vegas with some of her cousins.

I flew out from Tucson to meet her. I wasn’t a gambler, but, still, I enjoyed watching her at the blackjack table, with her short blond perm, a Scotch-and-soda sweating in her hand. Whenever she won—not often—her shout was loud, and always directed upward, as if to the invisible ones who’d facilitated her good fortune.

My mother seemed happy again—but soon after turning sixty she was diagnosed with breast cancer. Once the treatments began, she had very little energy. There were no more visits to Las Vegas. My father told her to quit her waitressing job, but she said, “How can I?” The medical bills were piling up.

By then, I was determined to make my living as a writer—and though most of my family, especially my father, didn’t seem to understand my ambitions, I could tell my mother did. Now that she was no longer gambling, she began to put all her chips on me. When I won my first literary award, she threw a party that clearly cost more than the amount of the small cash prize I’d received.

“Risk everything” had always been her motto. And she seemed to understand that this was exactly what I was doing in choosing to become an artist.

Late into her illness, I began writing my first novel. After she learned I was dedicating it to her, she always referred to it as “our book.” “What’s going on with our book?” she’d say. “How much are they giving us?”

“It hasn’t sold yet,” I had to keep telling her.

“It will, baby.” I could feel her shaking the dice in her hands.

The book sold a month after she died, on her birthday. I didn’t get a fortune, but it was more money than I’d ever made in my life, and surely more than my mother had ever won at any of her games. It was hard not to feel superstitious—that my luck was somehow related to her.

Lately, I can see my mother clearly. I can see her sitting at the kitchen table with her shining tower of hair, playing cards or placing bets. Despite all the darkness and loss that was to come, I can glimpse the romance behind her schemes. And so I often think of my own work as a bet I’m placing for her.

Let’s do it , Mom. Let’s win . ♦

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A Cursed Ship and the Fate of Its Sunken Gold

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An Olympics Scene Draws Scorn. Did It Really Parody ‘The Last Supper’?

Some church leaders and politicians have condemned the performance from the opening ceremony for mocking Christianity. Art historians are divided.

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A screen depicting a person painted in blue near fruit. Behind is a rainy Paris street with part of the Eiffel Tower and Olympic rings visible.

By Yan Zhuang

A performance during the Paris Olympics’ opening ceremony on Friday has drawn criticism from church leaders and conservative politicians for a perceived likeness to Leonardo da Vinci’s depiction of a biblical scene in “The Last Supper,” with some calling it a “mockery” of Christianity.

The event’s planners and organizers have denied that the sequence was inspired by “The Last Supper,” or that it intended to mock or offend.

In the performance broadcast during the ceremony, a woman wearing a silver, halo-like headdress stood at the center of a long table, with drag queens posing on either side of her. Later, at the same table, a giant cloche lifted, revealing a man, nearly naked and painted blue, on a dinner plate surrounded by fruit. He broke into a song as, behind him, the drag queens danced.

The tableaux drew condemnation among people who saw the images as a parody of “The Last Supper,” the New Testament scene depicted in da Vinci’s painting by the same name. The French Bishops’ Conference, which represents the country’s Catholic bishops, said in a statement that the opening ceremony included “scenes of mockery and derision of Christianity,” and an influential American Catholic, Bishop Robert Barron of Minnesota, called it a “gross mockery.”

The performance at the opening ceremony, which took place on and along the Seine on Friday, also prompted a Mississippi-based telecommunications provider, C Spire, to announce that it would pull its advertisements from Olympics broadcasts. Speaker Mike Johnson described the scene as “shocking and insulting to Christian people.”

The opening ceremony’s artistic director, Thomas Jolly, said at the Games’ daily news conference on Saturday that the event was not meant to “be subversive, or shock people, or mock people.” On Sunday, Anne Descamps, the Paris 2024 spokeswoman, said at the daily news conference, “If people have taken any offense, we are, of course, really, really sorry.”

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The Price of Perky Boobs

A close up image of a naked stomach and bottom of the breasts

“Look at my boobs and tell me what you think.”

I’m a 20-year-old retail assistant, beseeching an older colleague and close friend, to evaluate my bare breasts in the backroom after hours. Unbuckling my bra, I stand before her, totally exposed. “What are you talking about?” She responds. “They’re fine!” After years of self-critiquing, I wasn’t convinced.

While the perceived ‘perfect’ size of breasts have fluctuated with time, breasts have always been beholden to one immovable standard: perky. Those with breasts that align with this archetype may consider their boobs a source of #freethenipple empowerment. Other women feel a kind of wearied distaste for their tatas; forgoing a bra is inconceivable, and god forbid they go on top. Some have embraced a kind of ‘it-is-what-it-is’ booby ambivalence.

I spent several college summers fitting bras at a contemporary lingerie chain—measuring breasts, buckling brassieres and at times, literally lifting flesh into cups—so I have met all these women. I have been them, too. When the pandemic found me in my mid-20s – prompting a massive lifestyle shift and a discovery of disordered eating. I’d moved to the west coast and, without daily walking around New York City, took up running and downloaded Noom, a calorie counter app that promptly capped my daily intake at 1200 calories. (Editor’s note: Research has shown that calorie tracking, including with apps, may contribute to eating disorders.) Within three months, my breasts descended four bra sizes, taking my nipples with them. With that, my boobs entered their new, deflated era, and for the first time, I felt incentivized to confront the issue.

I was not the only one to recently research breast lifts —the number of people searching for them peaked during summer 2021, and has continued to spike each summer since, according to Google Trends. It’s coincided with the arrival of Ozempic , forcing women—and myself—into the same societally-constructed conundrum. Weight loss? We like it. Small, saggy breasts caused by weight loss? Unacceptable. From 2019 to 2023, the American Society of Plastic Surgeons says there was a 30 percent increase in requests for breast lifts (mastopexies)—placing the procedure in direct competition with its more popular sister: implants. “I want my titties pinned back to my shoulders, right where they used to be,” Rihanna revealed in last month’s issue of Interview . “I don’t want implants. I just want a lift.”

New York-based board-certified plastic surgeon Norman Rowe has made his name on the Upper East Side and beyond as a breast expert. In the past year, his requests for lifts have almost tripled—an exponential increase that he says is a result of rampant semaglutide use."

“I get a lot of women who've lost a substantial amount of weight, especially with Ozempic ,” he says. “The more weight someone loses—and the quicker they lose it—the more impact that has on the skin. Body procedures are just going through the roof, 30 percent of our business is now dedicated to face, breast and back lifts.”

When I first consulted with Dr. Rowe for a breast lift , he sketched the anchor-like incision required. He would cut around the areola, down the center of the breast, removing excess skin and raising the nipple so it no longer faces down. This would not create cleavage or add fullness. For that, he emphasized, you need an implant.

“A lift will take care of the sag in the skin, it will take care of the position of the nipple, but it will not address the volume loss of the upper poles of cleavage,” he says. (“Upper poles” is how plastic surgeons refer to the breast tissue above the nipple.) Patients often come in without realizing the limitation of a breast lift, says Dr. Rowe. “There is a misconception among patients of what a lift is. So I figured out the way to ask if they wanted an augmentation or a lift was, ‘Do you want cleavage ?’ Either you want to get bigger and your cleavage to change, or you want to be the same size but get rid of the droopiness.”

I fit into the latter group, or so I thought. Anyone who remembers the 90s will also remember that buxom beauties were not only abundant but considered femininity made manifest. Even if you joined in on the bimbo jokes that shamed the cosmetically enhanced likes of Pamela Anderson and Carmen Electra, their perfectly rounded, perky breasts were still taped to the bedroom walls of your school crush. Anything less than a squeeze-worthy palmful, anything that succumbed to gravity, would be passed over by Playboy editors—relegated instead to the readership of National Geographic.

In the weeks leading up to my surgery, I would debate the pros and cons of implants over and over again. Like Dr. Rowe, I was struggling to understand my expectations. Due to their generally higher placement, my nipples would be raised only an inch. With the removal of skin, my 34D boobs would likely decrease by a half or a whole cup size. Was it worth going through all of this, just for slightly smaller tits with slightly higher nipples? Would I be satisfied with, well, a slight difference?

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This was also plaguing Dr. Rowe, who responded to my initial consultation with multiple surgical plans. “One of the key things that I try to ascertain when I'm examining a patient: what are their true expectations and, more importantly, are they realistic for the patient?”

When Dr. Rowe first opened his private practice in 2004, he was routinely implanting 500 and 600cc implants—for reference, one cup size is around 250cc. With larger implants dropping faster, creating sagging, he says women have trended smaller in the last five years. Fat transfer enhancements, popular among those seeking natural-looking breasts, can calcify into hard lumps and be mistaken for cancer during mammography—resulting in additional surgery. The complications and shelf lives associated with implants have also become more well-known : follow-up implant removal or replacement surgeries after 10 years or sooner, and ruptured implants need to be replaced in up to 17.7% percent of patients after 6 or 10 years (the rupture rate after revision augmentation is between 2.9% and 14.7%). Breast implant illness is a controversial topic—it’s a term patients came up with, rather than a medical diagnosis; there’s a lack of data on the topic; and no real agreement about what the symptoms are, though patients tend to name hard-to-track ones, like fatigue, joint pain, brain fog, rash, memory loss—but the FDA and many doctors agree there’s still much to learn, Grant Stevens, the president of the American Society for Aesthetic Plastic Surgery (ASAPS) and a clinical professor of plastic surgery at the Keck School of Medicine of USC, previously told to Allure .

Still, the promise of built-in cleavage was tempting. I wanted to go braless without insecurity. Wear plunging dresses without experimenting with endless sticky cutlets. I didn’t want to tug up my breasts in tight tops. At the same time, I didn’t want to go bigger, and I didn’t want to possibly undergo multiple surgeries on my breasts as I aged. My heart just wasn’t in the implants.

“Whereas I used to do a lot of breast implant mastopexies—where you put in the implants at the same time—today, I'm probably doing a larger number of mastopexies [breast lifts] alone,” he says.

Post-consultation, the options Dr. Rowe offered me were a mastopexy with a small implant or a mastopexy with an internal bra. The internal bra is a lesser-known procedure that originated in the ‘80s, reaching wider awareness more recently, Rowe says, with the help of a rebrand and big marketing push . Originally, the internal bra was a kind of cone shape (picture Madonna) created from a Gore-tex mesh. Over time, there were claims the mesh may have been obscuring mammography, and insurance companies began rejecting claims for mammograms if the patient had an internal bra. That’s where Galaflex came in. A new internal bra material first implemented around 2016, it’s best described as an absorbable mesh sewn into the chest wall.

“Think of it as a hammock,” says Dr. Rowe. “It goes underneath the implant [around existing breast tissue] and keeps it from descending over time. You don't need a full cone because you’re not pulling anything up—but you are protecting the implant from moving down after two years. You have your own sling.”

A lot of breast surgeries rely on skin to hold up an implant or (in the case of a lift-only) breast tissue, Dr. Rowe explained to me, but skin is not capable of bearing weight. Someone who has skin that has been stretched from rapid weight loss is a perfect candidate for an internal bra because that stretching of the skin weakens the layer of collagen that’s usually a built-in structure to prevent descent. But after Galaflex dissolves, in about 1-2 years, “it gets replaced by collagen — which would not have been there otherwise,” says Dr. Rowe, an assessment validated by studies published in the journals Aesthetic Surgery ( in 2022 and 2016) and Plastic and Aesthetic Research . “While the internal bra itself is gone, its impact remains.”

This was enough to convince me to get an internal bra, which starts at $10,000 at Dr. Rowe's practice, making the cost of a breast lift with an internal bra $40,000 and up. While I was assured the results of an internal bra are not permanent—Dr. Rowe said I could expect them to last for at least 10 years—it does make it less likely for the breasts to droop over time. And an internal bra is less likely to interfere with breastfeeding—something that may or may not be in my future—than an implant.

My surgery took around an hour and a half. I was in the clinic by 7:30am, put under general anesthesia, and awake around 11:30am. During the procedure, Dr. Rowe removed excess skin and sewed the gauze to my ribcage, reshaping the remaining skin and tissue to lift my breasts and nipples while reducing the size of my areolas. I was back to my hotel room in a surgical bra by noon. Recovery requires you to wear a surgical bra, day and night, for at least a month — eventually downgrading to a sports bra until around six weeks. A surgical bra is a wireless bralette that closes at the front (so you don’t have to stretch your arms back), and feels very lightweight but also extremely tight. The compression helps with the swelling but also keeps the breasts in their proper place as they heal. I was unable to sleep on my side for around 10 days, and there’s no lifting more than 10 pounds, or working out other than walking, for three weeks. Following that, scar tape or gel on the sutured areas (around the areola, down and under the breast) is an everyday essential for a year.

Image may contain Person Skin Body Part and Shoulder

This dress was impossible for me to wear without a bra before, now they sit perfectly without any support.

The first several days require heavy reliance on another person. For the first 48 hours, my boyfriend lifted and lowered me into bed, dressed me, and brushed my hair and teeth because I couldn’t raise my arms. I was encouraged to walk the next day, and allowed to fly or drive if necessary on the second (I’d traveled to New York City for the surgery, and had booked my flight back home two days later). I had full mobility again by day three or four, but the discomfort should also not be underestimated—specifically with the internal bra. I felt a constant pang and tugging pain on my ribcage that affected even the most basic activities (like lifting groceries or shaving my legs) for the first several weeks.

For the first 24 hours, I was in so much pain that I cried all the way through my post-op appointment the next morning. In the first 24 hours, I was taking a low-dose prescription opiate by itself, which wasn’t enough pain medication, so Dr. Rowe recommended I take it in conjunction with Extra Strength Tylenol. (He compared Tylenol to the main meal, while Oxycodone and Tramadol were a kind of ‘chaser’—supplementing the OTC medication should I need something stronger.) Through my tears, I revealed my new, bruised breasts to Dr. Rowe. Upon inspecting his work, the surgeon concluded he was “very happy” with the results.

“You're trying to make their soul better,” he explains of cosmetic surgery. “While I'm not taking out their appendix, when a patient sees themselves as having a flaw–rightfully so or not–you're trying to correct it. And sometimes to them, it's life and death. Honestly, down deep, I'm a fixer. Seeing a problem and getting a solution, a good solution, it's gratifying.”

I didn’t look at my breasts for the first week—a mostly unconscious choice. For as long as I remember, I have avoided looking at my breasts entirely. Even before my weight loss changed their appearance significantly I always felt unsatisfied with them on a bad day, or ambivalent at best. Eight days after surgery, I unzipped my surgical bra and inspected the result for the first time. Dr. Rowe had reduced the size of my areolas, raised the nipples, and rounded my breasts into two symmetrical mounds. The anchor-shaped incision was sutured with almost invisible stitches. I was looking at boobs I had only seen on screen, or on my most genetically-blessed friends.

I turn away from the mirror. The change might seem slight to some, but to me, mastopexy had made a world of difference. “Tell me what you think,” I say to my boyfriend. “They’re perfect,” he responds. This time, I believed the beholder.

To read more about plastic surgery:

Breast Lifts Are on the Way Up
13 People Get Real About Their Facelifts
I’m 96 and I’ve Had 3 Facelifts — Here’s What I Learned

Now watch Brooke Shields' 10 Minute Beauty Routine:

Allure Daily Beauty Blast

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Write 10 Lines on My Hobby Cricket

Cricket is a sport that I love to play and watch in my free time. It’s a fun and exciting game that involves hitting a ball with a bat and running between two sets of wickets.

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