Inequality Of The American Dream - 1368 Words

Inequality Do you think the American dream is still a concept today? If so, is it still possible to achieve this American dream? The American dream can be described as the success of life, and the goals achieved. Sometimes, these dreams can not be achieved due to obstacles. In this case, obstacles such as inequality. Many may view America has the land of opportunity and the greatest nation ever due to our vast diversity and freedom, but is this thought to be true in America itself? There has been many cases of people facing inequality in history. Examples of inequality were unequal rights against African Americans, against women, and one that is more common today is the income inequality. Inequality makes it so the people who are made to be inferior have many obstacles to face, such as racism or being degraded as humans. African Americans were slaves and women did not get equal opportunity compared to men. Although inequality may seem like a thing in the past, many still face it tod ay. Inequality limits a person from succeeding in his or her life, and puts a great struggle upon them. America seems like a promise land for foreigners. We are called â€Å"the land of opportunity† and â€Å"the land of the free†. Tim Roemer, an American ambassador of India have worked with Indians and see their viewpoint of America. In his article â€Å"America Remains the World’s Beacon of Success†, Roemer expresses that â€Å"I learned that America is still deeply admired around the world and the place whereShow MoreRelatedThe American Dream : The Inequality Of The American Dream1061 Words   |  5 PagesThe American dream is one the main reasons many choose to move to the United States in hopes of gaining a better life not only for themselves but for their children. But with so many people striving to achieve their dream, the playing field has become more and more competitive making the dream a complete nightmare to achieve. From getting into colle ges for degrees to obtaining desired job positions, moving up the social ladder has become a more strenuous task than ever before. This American dreamRead MoreInequality In America And The American Dream1536 Words   |  7 Pagesto achieve the American dream. The American system is controlled by the wealthy who choose, which laws to impose in the benefit for themselves and organization. The inequality between the poor and rich is so wide this makes the American dream for most Americans impossible to achieve. To be wealthy like top 1% of the Americans, you need freedom of choice, an inheritance from rich parents and work hard to achieve the American dream. Before going to my claim, inequality is a interestingRead MoreIncome Inequality Is The Killer Of The American Dream1106 Words   |  5 Pages2016 Income Inequality is the Killer of the American Dream Think about your goals that would lead you to your definition of the American Dream. Would you let economic differences ruin your dream, or work harder? The American Dream would be considered reaching your ultimate goal and having a stable life and job to provide for oneself and their family. Most people in our country think that the main reason why the American Dream is dying is because of income inequality. Income inequality can play a hugeRead MoreImpact Of The Income Inequality On The American Dream1742 Words   |  7 PagesImpact of the Income Inequality on the American Dream The book called They Say I say with Readings contains multiple articles. However, chapter nineteen focuses on the American Dream. Chapter nineteen, â€Å"What’s Up with the American Dream?† indicates how the article will be focusing on the American Dream. The American Dream changes over the course of time as the income inequality widens between the higher and lower class. Few events occurred that affected the income, which led to a growing gap betweenRead MoreEquality and Inequality in the American Dream762 Words   |  3 Pagesthey need to get by, or to live how they want to. Americans of low class can’t compete against those of high class. While some people can achieve The American Dream, others struggle with just living. With the right mindset, anyone can achieve the dream. Like many others, I can see the difference in class, just from how people behave. Money and class affects how each person is treated as an individual, rather than who they are. Lower class Americans don’t usually have the advantages that those of higherRead MoreWomen’s Income Inequality and The American Dream Essay1358 Words   |  6 Pages Income inequality is a big ongoing problem in the United States. It has a big effect on what America was all about, the American dream. The American dream that everyone is equal and has equal opportunities. Although a big part of what goes on in the Untied States that just doesn’t fit the American dream; women are unequal in the work place. They are put under what is known as the â€Å"Glass Ceiling†. Women do not get promoted in the work place and aren’t getting equal pay as men. This also leadsRead MoreThe Real American Dream : Realizing Education Inequality2569 Words   |  11 Pages Social Inequality November 20, 2014 Research Paper: Education Inequality The Real American Dream: Realizing Education Inequality through Intersectionality In recent years, the term intersectionality has taken the foregrounds in understanding how differences such as age, gender, race, sexuality, disability, and religion, etc., interweave and intersect upon individual lives in modern society (Beck 1992). Intersectionality has become a demonstration as to understand, employ, and analyze withRead MoreAssignment On Income Inequality : Extinction Of The American Dream885 Words   |  4 Pagesprogressed my papers toward better essays. I have saved my papers individually as I corrected them to show the progressions. In my argumentative essay, Income Inequality: Extinction of the American Dream, I used my summary and response paper as my draft. The summary and response paper contained each essays’ summaries related to income inequality from the They Say I Say book that greatly influenced my argumentative essay. As I wrote the essay, I made sure my dad to help me correct any grammar mistakesRead MoreSocial Inequality : The Land Of The Free, And The American Dream979 Words   |  4 PagesWhen one hears America several things come to mind such as the land of opportunity, the land of the free, and the American Dream. However, these ideas are sadly denatured by social hierarchies and inequality. Social inequality comes in many forms. It is a social construct that many people do not see affecting their daily lives, let alone the American society as a whole. According to The Sociology Project 2.0, a social construct is An invented social phenomenon (for example a belief, discourseRead MoreDegrees Of Inequality : How The Politics Of Higher Education Impacted The American Dream1866 Words   |  8 PagesDegrees of Inequality: How the politics of higher education sabotaged the American Dream is a well-written and well-researched book that helps readers explore the intricacies of higher education policy while allowing them to discover how the policyscape has furthered inequality and enhanced classism in America (Mettler, 2014). The text itself is empirical in nature, and is the culmination of eight years-worth of mixed-methods research. According to the â€Å"Acknowledgement† and â€Å"Notes† sections of the

A Glimpse Behind The Curtain Essay - 1080 Words

Souls In Transit A glimpse behind the curtain. Facing the death of my sister from a terminal illness altered my life in myriad ways—for evermore. It challenged every platitude—life is fair, everything happens for a reason, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger—I think not. As the illness consumed her, I grasped at ways to imbue her soul with my unfaltering love, and the pure delight we shared in being sisters. I searched for signs—earthly and otherworldly, to assure me the love, the connection, the intimacy that defined us would survive. An incident a few days before her death, gave me hope that perhaps, consciousness survives, and can be bridged after death. In June of 2000, my beloved sister, Mary, 15 months my senior, my soul mate, lay dying of metastatic lung cancer. She received hospice care in her home, cocooned in the love of family and friends and the compassionate care of her doctor and hospice nurses. I, along with my younger sister, Angie, and Mary’s best friend, Lynn, were her primary caretakers. Mary experienced extreme pain and was consistently and heavily medicated. As she grew weaker, unable to swallow pills, we used a mortar and pestle to grind her pills, mix them with applesauce and feed them to her. Late one evening Lynn was with me, as she had volunteered to sleep in the recliner next to Mary’s hospital bed. As midnight approached, Lynn and I tried to get Mary to take her applesauce medication mixture. However, after two bites she refused,Show MoreRelatedA Memorable Occasion in my Life- Personal Narrative Essay568 Words   |  3 PagesA Memorable Occasion in my Life- Personal Narrative Looking around the blacked-out glass door and past the curtains, I caught a glimpse of the school hall. It had been totally transformed from its usual every day state. 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Digital Fortress Chapter 81-84 Free Essays

Chapter 81 Becker stood bleary-eyed beside the telephone booth on the terminal concourse. Despite his burning face and a vague nausea, his spirits were soaring. It was over. We will write a custom essay sample on Digital Fortress Chapter 81-84 or any similar topic only for you Order Now Truly over. He was on his way home. The ring on his finger was the grail he’d been seeking. He held his hand up in the light and squinted at the gold band. He couldn’t focus well enough to read, but the inscription didn’t appear to be in English. The first symbol was either a Q, an O, or a zero, his eyes hurt too much to tell. Becker studied the first few characters. They made no sense. This was a matter of national security? Becker stepped into the phone booth and dialed Strathmore. Before he had finished the international prefix, he got a recording. â€Å"Todos los circuitos estan ocupados,† the voice said. â€Å"Please hang up and try your call later.† Becker frowned and hung up. He’d forgotten: Getting an international connection from Spain was like roulette, all a matter of timing and luck. He’d have to try again in a few minutes. Becker fought to ignore the waning sting of the pepper in his eyes. Megan had told him rubbing his eyes would only make them worse; he couldn’t imagine. Impatient, he tried the phone again. Still no circuits. Becker couldn’t wait any longer-his eyes were on fire; he had to flush them with water. Strathmore would have to wait a minute or two. Half blind, Becker made his way toward the bathrooms. The blurry image of the cleaning cart was still in front of the men’s room, so Becker turned again toward the door marked damas. He thought he heard sounds inside. He knocked. â€Å"Hola?† Silence. Probably Megan, he thought. She had five hours to kill before her flight and had said she was going to scrub her arm till it was clean. â€Å"Megan?† he called. He knocked again. There was no reply. Becker pushed the door open. â€Å"Hello?† He went in. The bathroom appeared empty. He shrugged and walked to the sink. The sink was still filthy, but the water was cold. Becker felt his pores tighten as he splashed the water in his eyes. The pain began to ease, and the fog gradually lifted. Becker eyed himself in the mirror. He looked like he’d been crying for days. He dried his face on the sleeve of his jacket, and then it suddenly occurred to him. In all the excitement, he’d forgotten where he was. He was at the airport! Somewhere out thereon the tarmac, in one of the Seville airport’s three private hangars, there was a Learjet 60 waiting to take him home. The pilot had stated very clearly, I have orders to stay here until you return. It was hard to believe, Becker thought, that after all this, he had ended up right back where he’d started. What am I waiting for? he laughed. I’m sure the pilot can radio a message to Strathmore! Chuckling to himself, Becker glanced in the mirror and straightened his tie. He was about to go when the reflection of something behind him caught his eye. He turned. It appeared to be one end of Megan’s duffel, protruding from under a partially open stall door. â€Å"Megan?† he called. There was no reply. â€Å"Megan?† Becker walked over. He rapped loudly on the side of the stall. No answer. He gently pushed the door. It swung open. Becker fought back a cry of horror. Megan was on the toilet, her eyes rolled skyward. Dead center of her forehead, a bullet hole oozed bloody liquid down her face. â€Å"Oh, Jesus!† Becker cried in shock. â€Å"Esta muerta,† a barely human voice croaked behind him. â€Å"She’s dead.† It was like a dream. Becker turned. â€Å"Senor Becker?† the eerie voice asked. Dazed, Becker studied the man stepping into the rest room. He looked oddly familiar. â€Å"Soy Hulohot,† the killer said. â€Å"I am Hulohot.† The misshapen words seemed to emerge from the depths of his stomach. Hulohot held out his hand. â€Å"El anillo. The ring.† Becker stared blankly. The man reached in his pocket and produced a gun. He raised the weapon and trained it on Becker’s head. â€Å"El anillo.† In an instant of clarity, Becker felt a sensation he had never known. As if cued by some subconscious survival instinct, every muscle in his body tensed simultaneously. He flew through the air as the shot spat out. Becker crashed down on top of Megan. A bullet exploded against the wall behind him. â€Å"Mierda!† Hulohot seethed. Somehow, at the last possible instant, David Becker had dived out of the way. The assassin advanced. Becker pulled himself off the lifeless teenager. There were approaching footsteps. Breathing. The cock of a weapon. â€Å"Adios,† the man whispered as he lunged like a panther, swinging his weapon into the stall. The gun went off. There was a flash of red. But it was no tblood. It was something else. An object had materialized as if out of nowhere, sailing out of the stall and hitting the killer in the chest, causing his gun to fire a split second early. It was Megan’s duffel. Becker exploded from the stall. He buried his shoulder in the man’s chest and drove him back into the sink. There was a bone-crushing crash. A mirror shattered. The gun fell free. The two men collapsed to the floor. Becker tore himself away and dashed for the exit. Hulohot scrambled for his weapon, spun, and fired. The bullet ripped into the slamming bathroom door. The empty expanse of the airport concourse loomed before Becker like an uncrossable desert. His legs surged beneath him faster than he’d ever known they could move. As he skidded into the revolving door, a shot rang out behind him. The glass panel in front of him exploded in a shower of glass. Becker pushed his shoulder into the frame and the door rotated forward. A moment later he stumbled onto the pavement outside. A taxi stood waiting. â€Å"Dejame entrar!† Becker screamed, pounding on the locked door. â€Å"Let me in!† The driver refused; his fare with the wire-rim glasses had asked him to wait. Becker turned and saw Hulohot streaking across he concourse, gun in hand. Becker eyed his little Vespa on the sidewalk. I’m dead. Hulohot blasted through the revolving doors just in time to see Becker trying in vain to kick start his Vespa. Hulohot smiled and raised his weapon. The choke! Becker fumbled with the levers under the gas tank. He jumped on the starter again. It coughed and died. â€Å"El anillo. The ring.† The voice was close. Becker looked up. He saw the barrel of a gun. The chamber was rotating. He rammed his foot on the starter once again. Hulohot’s shot just missed Becker’s head as the little bike sprang to life and lurched forward. Becker hung on for his life as the motorcycle bounced down a grassy embankment and wobbled around the corner of the building onto the runway. Enraged, Hulohot raced toward his waiting taxi. Seconds later, the driver lay stunned on the curb watching his taxi peel out in a cloud of dust. Chapter 82 As the implications of the Commander’s phone call to Security began to settle on the dazed Greg Hale, he found himself weakened by a wave of panic. Security is coming! Susan began to slip away. Hale recovered, clutching at her midsection, pulling her back. â€Å"Let me go!† she cried, her voice echoing though the dome. Hale’s mind was in overdrive. The commander’s call had taken him totally by surprise. Strathmore phoned Security! He’s sacrificing his plans for Digital Fortress! Not in a million years had Hale imagined the commander would let Digital Fortress slip by. This back door was the chance of a lifetime. As the panic rushed in, Hale’s mind seemed to play tricks on him. He saw the barrel of Strathmore’s Berretta everywhere he looked. He began to spin, holding Susan close, trying to deny the commander a shot. Driven by fear, Hale dragged Susan blindly toward the stairs. In five minutes the lights would come on, the doors would open, and a SWAT team would pour in. â€Å"You’re hurting me!† Susan choked. She gasped for breath as she stumbled through Hale’s desperate pirouettes. Hale considered letting her go and making a mad dash for Strathmore’s elevator, but it was suicide. He had no password. Besides, once outside the NSA without a hostage, Hale knew he was as good as dead. Not even his Lotus could outrun a fleet of NSA helicopters. Susan is the only thing that will keep Strathmore from blowing me off the road! â€Å"Susan,† Hale blurted, dragging her toward the stairs. â€Å"Come with me! I swear I won’t hurt you!† As Susan fought him, Hale realized he had new problems. Even if he somehow managed to get Strathmore’s elevator open and take Susan with him, she would undoubtedly fight him all the way out of the building. Hale knew full well that Strathmore’s elevator made only one stop: â€Å"the Underground Highway,† a restricted labyrinth of underground access tunnels through which NSA powerbrokers moved in secrecy. Hale had no intention of ending up lost in the basement corridors of the NSA with a struggling hostage. It was a death trap. Even if he got out, he realized, he had no gun. How would he get Susan across the parking lot? How would he drive? It was the voice of one of Hale’s marine, military-strategy professors that gave him his answer: Force a hand, the voice warned, and it will fight you. But convince a mind to think as you want it to think, and you have an ally. â€Å"Susan,† Hale heard himself saying, â€Å"Strathmore’s a killer! You’re in danger here!† Susan didn’t seem to hear. Hale knew it was an absurd angle anyway; Strathmore would never hurt Susan, and she knew it. Hale strained his eyes into the darkness, wondering where the commander was hidden. Strathmore had fallen silent suddenly, which made Hale even more panicky. He sensed his time was up. Security would arrive at any moment. With a surge of strength, Hale wrapped his arms around Susan’s waist and pulled her hard up the stairs. She hooked her heels on the first step and pulled back. It was no use, Hale overpowered her. Carefully, Hale backed up the stairs with Susan in tow. Pushing her up might have been easier, but the landing at the top was illuminated from Strathmore’s computer monitors. If Susan went first, Strathmore would have a clear shot at Hale’s back. Pulling Susan behind him, Hale had a human shield between himself and the Crypto floor. About a third of the way up, Hale sensed movement at the bottom of the stairs. Strathmore’s making his move! â€Å"Don’t try it, Commander,† he hissed. â€Å"You’ll only get her killed.† Hale waited. But there was only silence. He listened closely. Nothing. The bottom of the stairs was still. Was he imagining things? It didn’t matter. Strathmore would never risk a shot with Susan in the way. But as Hale backed up the stairs dragging Susan behind him, something unexpected happened. There was a faint thud on the landing behind him. Hale stopped, adrenaline surging. Had Strathmore slipped upstairs? Instinct told him Strathmore was at the bottom of the stairs. But then, suddenly, it happened again-louder this time. A distinct step on the upper landing! In terror, Hale realized his mistake. Strathmore’s on the landing behind me! He has a clear shot of my back! In desperation, he spun Susan back to his uphill side and started retreating backwards down the steps. As he reached the bottom step, he stared wildly up at the landing and yelled, â€Å"Back off, Commander! Back off, or I’ll break her-â€Å" The butt of a Berretta came slicing through the air at the foot of the stairs and crashed down into Hale’s skull. As Susan tore free of the slumping Hale, she wheeled in confusion. Strathmore grabbed her and reeled her in, cradling her shaking body. â€Å"Shhh,† he soothed. â€Å"It’s me. You’re okay.† Susan was trembling. â€Å"Com†¦ mander.† She gasped, disoriented. â€Å"I thought†¦ I thought you were upstairs†¦ I heard†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"Easy now,† he whispered. â€Å"You heard me toss my loafers up onto the landing.† Susan found herself laughing and crying at the same time. The commander had just saved her life. Standing there in the darkness, Susan felt an overwhelming sense of relief. It was not, however, without guilt; Security was coming. She had foolishly let Hale grab her, and he had used her against Strathmore. Susan knew the commander had paid a huge price to save her. â€Å"I’m sorry,† she said. â€Å"What for?† â€Å"Your plans for Digital Fortress†¦ they’re ruined.† Strathmore shook his head. â€Å"Not at all.† â€Å"But†¦ but what about Security? They’ll be here any minute. We won’t have time to-â€Å" â€Å"Security’s not coming, Susan. We’ve got all the time in the world.† Susan was lost. Not coming? â€Å"But you phoned†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Strathmore chuckled. â€Å"Oldest trick in the book. I faked the call.† Chapter 83 Becker’s Vespa was no doubt the smallest vehicle ever to tear down the Seville runway. Its top speed, a whining 50 mph, sounded more like a chainsaw than a motorcycle and was unfortunately well below the necessary power to become airborne. In his side mirror, Becker saw the taxi swing out onto the darkened runway about four hundred yards back. It immediately started gaining. Becker faced front. In the distance, the contour of the airplane hangars stood framed against the night sky about a half mile out. Becker wondered if the taxi would overtake him in that distance. He knew Susan could do the math in two seconds and calculate his odds. Becker suddenly felt fear like he had never known. He lowered his head and twisted the throttle as far as it would go. The Vespa was definitely topped out. Becker guessed the taxi behind him was doing almost ninety, twice his speed. He set his sights on the three structures looming in the distance. The middle one. That’s where the Learjet is. A shot rang out. The bullet buried itself in the runway yards behind him. Becker looked back. The assassin was hanging out the window taking aim. Becker swerved and his side mirror exploded in a shower of glass. He could feel the impact of the bullet all the way up the handlebars. He lay his body flat on the bike. God help me, I’m not going to make it! The tarmac in front of Becker’s Vespa was growing brighter now. The taxi was closing, the headlights throwing ghostly shadows down the runway. A shot fired. The bullet ricocheted off the hull of the bike. Becker struggled to keep from going into a swerve. I’ve got to make the hangar! He wondered if the Learjet pilot could see them coming. Does he have a weapon? Will he open the cabin doors in time? But as Becker approached the lit expanse of the open hangars, he realized the question was moot. The Learjet was nowhere to be seen. He squinted through blurred vision and prayed he was hallucinating. He was not. The hangar was bare. Oh my God! Where’s the plane! As the two vehicles rocketed into the empty hangar, Becker desperately searched for an escape. There was none. The building’s rear wall, an expansive sheet of corrugated metal, had no doors or windows. The taxi roared up beside him, and Becker looked left to see Hulohot raising his gun. Reflex took over. Becker slammed down on his brakes. He barely slowed. The hangar floor was slick with oil. The Vespa went into a headlong skid. Beside him there was a deafening squeal as the taxi’s brakes locked and the balding tires hydroplaned on the slippery surface. The car spun around in a cloud of smoke and burning rubber only inches to the left of Becker’s skidding Vespa. Now side by side, the two vehicles skimmed out of control on a collision course with the rear of the hangar. Becker desperately pumped his brakes, but there was no traction; it was like driving on ice. In front of him, the metal wall loomed. It was coming fast. As the taxi spiraled wildly beside him, Becker faced the wall and braced for the impact. There was an earsplitting crash of steel and corrugated metal. But there was no pain. Becker found himself suddenly in the open air, still on his Vespa, bouncing across a grassy field. It was as if the hangar’s back wall had vanished before him. The taxi was still beside him, careening across the field. An enormous sheet of corrugated metal from the hangar’s back wall billowed off the taxi’s hood and sailed over Becker’s head. Heart racing, Becker gunned the Vespa and took off into the night. Chapter 84 Jabba let out a contented sigh as he finished the last of his solder points. He switched off the iron, put down his penlight, and lay a moment in the darkness of the mainframe computer. He was beat. His neck hurt. Internal work was always cramped, especially for a man of his size. And they just keep building them smaller, he mused. As he closed his eyes for a well-deserved moment of relaxation, someone outside began pulling on his boots. â€Å"Jabba! Get out here!† a woman’s voice yelled. Midge found me. He groaned. â€Å"Jabba! Get out here!† Reluctantly he slithered out. â€Å"For the love of God, Midge! I told you-† But it was not Midge. Jabba looked up, surprised. â€Å"Soshi?† Soshi Kuta was a ninety-pound live wire. She was Jabba’s righthand assistant, a razor-sharp Sys-Sec techie from MIT. She often worked late with Jabba and was the one member of his staff who seemed unintimidated by him. She glared at him and demanded, â€Å"Why the hell didn’t you answer your phone? Or my page?† â€Å"Your page,† Jabba repeated. â€Å"I thought it was-â€Å" â€Å"Never mind. There’s something strange going on in the main databank.† Jabba checked his watch. â€Å"Strange?† Now he was growing concerned. â€Å"Can you be any more specific?† Two minutes later Jabba was dashing down the hall toward the databank. How to cite Digital Fortress Chapter 81-84, Essay examples

Ielts Writing Practice free essay sample

A: The Graph A shows the trend of hiring new staffs in the company, represented by the specific percentage of each year from 1997 till present. From the graph, the percentage of newly recruited staff steadily declined from 1997 to 2003, followed by a considerably stable period thereafter. The decrease was initially moderate but saw a sharp turn in 2000. After 2003, however, the figure becomes considerably constant in the following years. B: The bar chart B reflects the change of average office hours per week in that company within a time span from 2000 to present. We will write a custom essay sample on Ielts Writing Practice or any similar topic specifically for you Do Not WasteYour Time HIRE WRITER Only 13.90 / page In general, we can see the average office hours of one week steadily increased during that period, although the variation between two consecutive years was slight. The lowest point occurs in the year of 2000, while the weekly office hours reach the largest number at present. C: The line graph in part C shows the trend of cost to company in terms of sick leave, spanning from 2000 to present. The line shape indicates that the cost caused by sick leave was quite stable during the first three years, but surged dramatically since 2003, and the increase trend began to slow down in 2005. In a word, the cost of sick leave has a significant rise over the past decade, in spite of a substantial stable period at the beginning. P101-No. 9-11 The graph shows the trends of annual hamburger sales of Harry’s from Jan to Dec this year. From the graph, the sale volume of hamburgers kept stable in the first three months, and then underwent a slight decline in Apr and May. From Jun, the hamburger sales grew dramatically and reached the peak in the month of Aug, followed by a sudden drop in Sep and Oct. After Oct, the sales began to increase gently, but till the end of year, the sale level was still lower than that of the year beginning. In conclusion, the hamburger of Harry’s is most popular from Jul to Sep, and the least popular in Oct. The last three months of the year had the smallest sales volume, while during the first half of the year the sales outcome was quite constant. P102-No. 12-13 The graph shows a fluctuating trend of the amount of people at a London underground station during one day. From the graph, there are two peaks of the number of people, occurring at 8:00 and 18:00 respectively. In contrast, the people in the station are the fewest at 6:00 and 16:00, both with a number of about 100. From 20:00 to 22:00, the number of people is also kept at a relatively low level, under the amount of 200. Notably, a considerable stable plateau appears in the noon time, from 12:00 to 14:00, and the number of people is stabilized around 300 during that time. In general, the station has the largest people load at 8:00 and 18:00, the second busiest time is from 12:00 to 14:00, and the number of people becomes small after 20:00.