Final Essay #1

Kelsey Hammond

English 101

Exam #1

High school was hard for me – in fact, it's hard for almost everybody. Those awkward years of trying to figure out who you really are and the type of people you fit in with, only to have it ripped apart when you reach college; it's a terrifying time in everyone's life, especially if you don't have many friends. High school was hard for me for 3 reasons; 1) I hated everyone at my school. The girls were mean, the boys were stupid, and the staff favoured the mean and the dumb. 2) My best friend had moved away, leaving me alone. I had my boyfriend, who is now my best friend, but the sting was still the same. 3) My French 3 class was literally full of people who were friends with each other.

But let's rewind a little. Before we discuss the hell of French 3, I need to describe my other classes. I didn't have particularly hard subjects – in fact, they were pretty easy for me. I was taking three AP classes (English, Photography, and Psychology), and I did very well in them. The fact that I didn't like anyone in the school didn't hurt my grades one bit.

I had lunch after third period (Photography), and I always dreaded going to French 3 right after. Complaining to my twin sister and my boyfriend, Josh, never really helped much with my frustration. I hated going, and I thought nothing was going to change that.

The class was really small – people wise and space wise. There was only maybe 15 kids in my class, but we had the portable room outside with the wasps nest right hanging over the door. We all had assigned seats that my teacher, Mme Haveman, would change every month or so. That was fine and all, but it also meant that I couldn't just sit in the corner away from everyone like I wanted. No, fate would decide to have me sit literally in the middle of the room surrounded by people I really could care less about.

In any other class, this wouldn't have bothered me that much. I would just ignore everyone and talk to my boyfriend or my sister. But, alas, I didn't have either of them in my class. Most of the time, I tried to not talk to or acknowledge anyone sitting near me, but Mme Haveman loved to have us talk in broken French to each other.

To top it all off, everyone was friends with each other. I am not joking. Normally, it wouldn't really bother me that no one in a class would talk to me, but my teacher always tried so hard to pair me up with people to do projects with. I understand that she was looking out for me and probably felt bad that I didn't have any friends, but I didn't want to talk to these people, especially the girl who sat next to me who would boast about going to Sweden with her family every summer. I just smiled my way through it though, and did my best to be nice to these classmates that I hated. People usually didn't like Mme Haveman because she was very strict (she had also replaced our old French teacher, Mr Johnson) and didn't take BS from anyone, which caused kids to talk bad about her behind her back. I liked her because I thought she was doing a good job at filling an old teachers shoes, and I always said kind things about her to Josh and my sister.

One day, Mme Haveman was absent from school. We had a substitute teacher, and I think you can figure out how class went that day – no one sat in their assigned seat, no work was done, and everyone pretty much goofed off. Personally, I just sat in the corner, turned on my iPod and ignored everyone. Oh, I did the classwork. And the homework. Then I did homework for my other classes. I actually got caught up with all my other classes, so it didn't really bother me much that no one was talking to me. To be honest, I quite enjoyed it, even if I was a bit bored by the end of the period.

Well, the next day, Mme Haveman came back from being sick. She was mad at the class, mainly because the sub had left a note saying that the whole class had just goofed off, except for a couple of people. To be honest, I kind of tuned her out because I knew she wasn't talking about me. I started on my classwork while she lectured the other kids.

It wasn't until she said the words, “It is not right to leave one person out in the whole class,” that I realized she was talking about me. I tried not to think about it and kept working.

Class went on as normal. We all learned some French that I can't remember today anyway, but it was still a normal class. Then, class ended. I always breathed a sigh of relief when class ended, because my next period was AP Psychology, which I loved.

That day was not my lucky day though. Mme Haveman asked me to stay after class. It's not that I didn't like her, but staying after class never meant anything good.

She waited for everyone else to leave the classroom before turning to me from her desk and simply asked, “How are you doing today?”

I was even more confused. Why did she have to wait for everyone to be gone just to ask me how my day was? “I'm fine.” I replied.

Her face became a little more serious. I was starting to get a little nervous now. Teachers had always made me slightly weary, and I really hate getting in trouble with them. It seemed like she was collecting her thoughts, so I waited patiently for her to continue.

After a couple seconds, she began talking again. “It's just, you know, the sub left a note about everyone, and I was worried about you.”

Then it hit me. She wasn't mad at me, she wasn't lecturing me, she wasn't blaming me. She was worried about me. Mme Haveman knew that the sub had been talking about me in the note; she realized that the whole class had left me out. She was mad at them for doing that to me. My French teacher just lectured everyone about leaving me out.

I can't for the life of me remember what I said to her after that. I think it's because I was so amazed that a teacher, someone who literally knew next to nothing about me, stood up for me. I do remember crying about it later, though, because it meant to much to me that she did that. Even Josh was surprised at what she had said to those kids.

Never in my life had a teacher stood up so totally completely for me. I don't think a teacher will every do that again.

Mme Haveman was really nice to me for the rest of the year, always asking how I was doing, or what my plans for summer were, or asking how my boyfriend was doing. Of course, I warmed up to her right away – she was a very nice person, and people just didn't give her credit for it.

My classmates attitude changed after that. They included me more - while Mme Haveman was there, forcing us to be in groups doing projects together. I eventually realized that it was all for show, but I found that I didn't really care either way what they thought of me.  

The thing that really stuck with me about this whole experience is that someone really stood up for me in a way no one had done before. This wasn't just my best friend telling the class bully to leave me alone – this was a teacher telling a whole group of students to be nice to me. Not even my own mother had done that before, and here was this new, young teacher (who was probably worried about people liking her at her new job) stood up for me

You may be wondering – what did I learn from this? What was the life lesson Mme Haveman taught me? Well, I learned that the most unlikely people may be looking out for you. Believing a teacher wouldn't care about how their students are doing is the wrong mindset. Teachers do care; you just need to give them a chance to show it. I don't suggest, however, to put yourself through bullying in order to recieve this treatment. It's just merely a reminder to kids that teachers are there to help you and are there to listen to your problems - either personal or educational.

I also learned that what those kids were doing – ignoring me and purposefully leaving me out – was a form of bullying. Before this incident in French 3, I never really saw ignoring people as a form of bullying. When I was in Elementary school, they didn’t really teach us that ignoring kids on purpose was a form of bullying – that was something that came about later, when I was too old to really care about it. But now that I’m much older, I do understand and realize how much it can hurt people.

Rough Draft Version 2

High school was hard for me – in fact, it's hard for almost everybody. Those awkward years of trying to figure out who you really are and the type of people you fit in with, only to have it ripped apart when you reach college; it's a terrifying time in everyone's life, especially if you don't have many friends. High school was hard for me for 3 reasons; 1) I hated everyone at my school. The girls were mean, the boys were stupid, and the staff favoured the mean and the dumb. 2) My best friend had moved away, leaving me alone. I had my boyfriend, who is now my best friend, but the sting was still the same. 3) My French 3 class was literally full of people who were friends with each other.

But let's rewind a little. Before we discuss the hell of French 3, I need to describe my other classes. I didn't have particularly hard subjects – in fact, they were pretty easy for me. I was taking three AP classes (English, Photography, and Psychology), and I did very well in them. The fact that I didn't like anyone in the school didn't hurt my grades one bit.

I had lunch after third period (Photography), and I always dreaded going to French 3 right after. Complaining to my twin sister and my boyfriend, Josh, never really helped much with my frustration. I hated going, and I thought nothing was going to change that.

The class was really small – people wise and space wise. There was only maybe 15 kids in my class, but we had the portable room outside with the wasps nest right hanging over the door. We all had assigned seats that my teacher, Mme Haveman, would change every month or so. That was fine and all, but it also meant that I couldn't just sit in the corner away from everyone like I wanted. No, fate would decide to have me sit literally in the middle of the room surrounded by people I really could care less about.

In any other class, this wouldn't have bothered me that much. I would just ignore everyone and talk to my boyfriend or my sister. But, alas, I didn't have either of them in my class. Most of the time, I tried to not talk to or acknowledge anyone sitting near me, but Mme Haveman loved to have us talk in broken French to each other.

To top it all off, everyone was friends with each other. I am not joking. Normally, it wouldn't really bother me that no one in a class would talk to me, but my teacher always tried so hard to pair me up with people to do projects with. I understand that she was looking out for me and probably felt bad that I didn't have any friends, but I didn't want to talk to these people, especially the girl who sat next to me who would boast about going to Sweden with her family every summer. I just smiled my way through it though, and did my best to be nice to these classmates that I hated. People usually didn't like Mme Haveman because she was very strict (she had also replaced our old French teacher, Mr Johnson) and didn't take BS from anyone, which caused kids to talk bad about her behind her back. I liked her because I thought she was doing a good job at filling an old teachers shoes, and I always said kind things about her to Josh and my sister.

One day, Mme Haveman was absent from school. We had a substitute teacher, and I think you can figure out how class went that day – no one sat in their assigned seat, no work was done, and everyone pretty much goofed off. Personally, I just sat in the corner, turned on my iPod and ignored everyone. Oh, I did the classwork. And the homework. Then I did homework for my other classes. I actually got caught up with all my other classes, so it didn't really bother me much that no one was talking to me. To be honest, I quite enjoyed it, even if I was a bit bored by the end of the period.

Well, the next day, Mme Haveman came back from being sick. She was mad at the class, mainly because the sub had left a note saying that the whole class had just goofed off, except for a couple of people. To be honest, I kind of tuned her out because I knew she wasn't talking about me. I started on my classwork while she lectured the other kids.

It wasn't until she said the words, “It is not right to leave one person out in the whole class,” that I realized she was talking about me. I tried not to think about it and kept working.

Class went on as normal. We all learned some French that I can't remember today anyway, but it was still a normal class. Then, class ended. I always breathed a sigh of relief when class ended, because my next period was AP Psychology, which I loved.

That day was not my lucky day though. Mme Haveman asked me to stay after class. It's not that I didn't like her, but staying after class never meant anything good.

She waited for everyone else to leave the classroom before turning to me from her desk and simply asked, “How are you doing today?”

I was even more confused. Why did she have to wait for everyone to be gone just to ask me how my day was? “I'm fine.” I replied.

Her face became a little more serious. I was starting to get a little nervous now. Teachers had always made me slightly weary, and I really hate getting in trouble with them. It seemed like she was collecting her thoughts, so I waited patiently for her to continue.

After a couple seconds, she began talking again. “It's just, you know, the sub left a note about everyone, and I was worried about you.”

Then it hit me. She wasn't mad at me, she wasn't lecturing me, she wasn't blaming me. She was worried about me. Mme Haveman knew that the sub had been talking about me in the note; she realized that the whole class had left me out. She was mad at them for doing that to me. My French teacher just lectured everyone about leaving me out.

I can't for the life of me remember what I said to her after that. I think it's because I was so amazed that a teacher, someone who literally knew next to nothing about me, stood up for me. I do remember crying about it later, though, because it meant to much to me that she did that. Even Josh was surprised at what she had said to those kids.

Never in my life had a teacher stood up so totally completely for me. I don't think a teacher will every do that again.

Mme Haveman was really nice to me for the rest of the year, always asking how I was doing, or what my plans for summer were, or asking how my boyfriend was doing. Of course, I warmed up to her right away – she was a very nice person, and people just didn't give her credit for it.

Sure, my classmates were nice to me on a very impersonal level, but I was never really included with them. They did it for show, just to make themselves look better for leaving me out. And it was usually only when Mme Haveman said we were working with partners or groups that they were nice to me. It didn't really bother me, I could care less what they think about me.

The thing that really stuck with me about this whole experience is that someone really stood up for me. This wasn't just my best friend telling the class bully to leave me alone – this was a teacher telling a whole group of students to be nice to me. No one had ever done that before, and even when I'm writing about this now, it makes me want to cry a little. She didn't have to do that - she was a new teacher at the school, and I know she must have wanted her students to really like her.

You may be wondering – what did I learn from this? Well, I learned that the most unlikely people may be looking out for you. Believing a teacher wouldn't care just isn't how people should be thinking. Teachers do care; you just need to give them a chance to show it. I don't suggest, however, to put yourself through bullying in order to recieve this treatment though. It's just merely a reminder to kids that teachers are there to help you - either through studying or personal problems.

I also learned that what those kids were doing – ignoring me and purposefully leaving me out – was a form of bullying. It didn't really bother me much then, and it certainly doesn't bother me at the present time, but it does give me a great experience so that I can help others who are affected by bullying. Before this incident in French 3, I never really saw ignoring people as a form of bullying. But now I do, and I realize how much it can hurt people. It didn't really hurt me, but Mme Haveman thought it was.

Malcolm X Is Pretty Cool

Out of Malcolm X, Rose, and Franklin, the essay I liked the most was Learning To Read by Malcolm X.  Though the other two essays were good and they served their purpose, I actually had fun reading Malcolm X's essay. Franklin was terribly boring, and Rose (though it was much better than Franklin's), just didn't interest me like Malcolm X's did.

"Let me pull your coat about a cat.." is probably the most interesting line I have read so far in this class. It just strikes me as awesome - like, even though Malcolm X taught himself how to read and write, and went on to use his knowledge for greater things - he's still a street kid. He's still 'street smart', and I love that he shows that in his writing.

I went back to the handout to see what other quotes I had highlighted. "Look, daddy, let me pull your coat about a cat, Elijah Muhammad-" was the only one I highlighted. In the other essays, the ones written by Franklin and Rose, nothing was highlighted at all. That one line was what stuck with me, and I still think it's a pretty cool line.

Rough Draft For Essay 1

High school was hard for me – in fact, it's hard for almost everybody. Those awkward years of trying to figure out who you really are and the type of people you fit in with, only to have it ripped apart when you reach college; it's a terrifying time in everyone's life. High school was hard for me for 2 reasons; 1) I hated everyone at my school. The girls were mean, the boys were stupid, and the staff favoured the mean and the dumb. 2) My best friend had moved away, leaving me alone. I had my boyfriend, who is now my best friend, but the sting was still the same. 3) My French 3 class was literally full of people who were friends with each other.

But let's rewind a little. Before we discuss the hell of French 3, I need to describe my other classes. I didn't have particular hard subjects – in fact, they were pretty easy for me. I was taking three AP classes and I did very well in them. The fact that I didn't like anyone in the school didn't hurt my grades one bit.

I had lunch after third period (Photography), and I always dreaded going to French 3 right after. Complaining to my twin sister and my boyfriend, Josh, never really helped much with my frustration. I hated going, and I thought nothing was going to change that.

The class was really small – people wise and space wise. There was only maybe 15 kids in my class, but we had the portable room with the wasps nest right outside. We all had assigned seats that my teacher, Mme Haveman, would change every month or so. That was fine and all, but it also meant that I couldn't just sit in the corner away from everyone. No, fate would decide to have me sit in the middle of the room surrounded by people I really could care less about.

In any other class, this wouldn't have bothered me that much. I would just ignore everyone and talk to my boyfriend or my sister. But, alas, I didn't have either of them in my class. Most of the time, I tried to not talk to or acknowledge anyone sitting near me, but Mme Haveman loved to have us talk in broken French to each other.

To top it all off, everyone was friends with each other. I am not joking. Normally, it wouldn't really bother me that no one in a class would talk to me, but my teacher always tried so hard to pair me up with people to do projects with. I understand that she was looking out for me and probably felt bad that I didn't have any friends, but I didn't want to talk to these people. I just smiled my way through it though, and did my best to be nice to these classmates that I hated. People usually didn't like Mme Haveman because she was very strict (she had also replaced our old French teacher, Mr Johnson) and didn't take BS from anyone. I liked her because I thought she was doing a good job at filling an old teachers shoes.

One day, Mme Haveman was absent from school. We had a substitute teacher, and I think you can figure out how class went that day – no one sat in their assigned seat, no work was done, and everyone pretty much goofed off. Personally, I just sat in the corner, turned on my iPod and ignored everyone. Oh, I did the classwork. And the homework. Then I did homework for my other classes. I actually got caught up with all my other classes, so it didn't really bother me much that no one was talking to me. To be honest, I quite enjoyed it.

Well, the next day, Mme Haveman came back from being sick. She was mad at the class, mainly because the sub had left a note saying that the whole class had just goofed off, except for a couple of people. To be honest, I kind of tuned her out because I knew she wasn't talking about me. I started on my classwork while she lectured the other kids.

It wasn't until she said the words, “It is not right to leave one person out in the whole class,” that I realized she was talking about me. I tried not to think about it and kept working.

Class went on as normal. We all learned some French that I can't remember today anyway, but it was still a normal class. Then, class ended. I always breathed a sigh of relief when class ended, because my next period was AP Psychology, which I loved.

That day was not my lucky day though. Mme Haveman asked me to stay after class. It's not that I didn't like her, but staying after class never meant anything good.

She waited for everyone else to leave the classroom before turning to me from her desk and simply asked, “How are you doing today?”

I was even more confused. Why did she have to wait for everyone to be gone just to ask me how my day was? “I'm fine.” I replied.

Her face became a little more serious. I was starting to get a little nervous now. Teachers had always made me slightly weary, and I really hate getting in trouble with them. It seemed like she was collecting her thoughts, so I waited patiently for her to continue.

After a couple seconds, she began talking again. “It's just, you know, the sub left a note about everyone, and I was worried about you.”

Then it hit me. She wasn't mad at me, she wasn't lecturing me, she wasn't blaming me. She was worried about me. Mme Haveman knew that the sub had been talking about me in the note; she realized that the whole class had left me out. She was mad at them for doing that to me. My French teacher just lectured everyone about leaving me out.

I can't for the life of me remember what I said to her after that. I think it's because I was so amazed that a teacher, someone who literally knew next to nothing about me, stood up for me. I do remember crying about it later, though, because it meant to much to me that she did that.

Never in my life had a teacher stood up so totally completely for me. I don't think a teacher will every do that again.

Mme Haveman was really nice to me for the rest of the year, always asking how I was doing, or what my plans for summer were, or asking how my boyfriend was doing. Of course, I warmed up to her right away – she was a very nice person.

Sure, my classmates were nice to me on a very impersonal level, but I was never really included with them. They did it for show, just to make themselves look better for leaving me out. It didn't really bother me, I could care less what they think about me.

The thing that really stuck with me about this whole experience is that someone really stood up for me. This wasn't just my best friend telling the class bully to leave me alone – this was a teacher telling a whole group of students to be nice to me. No one had ever done that before, and even when I'm writing about this now, it makes me want to cry a little.

You may be wondering – what did I learn from this? Well, I learned that the most unlikely people may be looking out for you. Believing a teacher wouldn't care just isn't how people should be thinking. Teachers do care; you just need to give them a chance to show it.

I also learned that what those kids were doing – ignoring me and purposefully leaving me out – was a form of bullying. It didn't really bother me much then, and it certainly doesn't bother me at the present time, but it does give me a great experience so that I can help others who are affected by bullying.

They All Sort Of Say The Same Thing

Malcom X's, Franklin's and Rose's essays are very different - on the surface. Sure, the writing styles are polar opposites and the topics are all over the place, but they all basically say the same thing - personal experience can teach you more than books and schools.

Unlike the essays on computers from a couple weeks ago, these 3 essays talk more about personal experience rather than book work. Sure, their initial goal was to become smarter and be able to read or write better, but they learned so much more than that. All three men learned that, through reading, they can discover so much more about life. Malcom X discovered exactly what slavery was, and how wrong it was. Franklin discovered that even though he wasn't very good at on-hands tasks, he could read and write very well. Rose discovered that his school wasn't really teaching him at all - it was the kids in his class that taught him an important life lesson.

Yes, all 3 of these essays were written extremely different (seeing as they were written in different time periods and all that), but they all pretty much come to the same conclusion. School, and the math you learn there, isn't nearly as important as your own life experiences.

Exploring My Essay Topic

I had never really seen it as bullying until this year, actually. I hated all the kids in my class (those upper class a-holes who used daddy's car and mommy's credit card), and I was actually happy that they never talked to me. In fact, I really hated it when they went out of their way to converse with me.

It might be because I'm an introvert; it might be because I didn't like how they treated other kids in school. Either way, i never went out of my way to be nice or befriend any of them.

When I was younger, of course I was bullied by the class bully (he liked to kick water in my face when I was tying my shoes), but that's just what happens in elementary school. You get bullied for being slightly different (in my case, I had a twin and diabetes), but you get over it. In class, when the guidance counselor would come in and lecture us on bullying and how to prevent it, they never said that ignoring your classmate was a form of harassment. I don't think that really was seen as a problem until recently.

So of course I didn't realize these kids were bullying me. I hated them probably as much as they didn't like me, so where is the harassment? It did surprise me when my teacher, Mme Haveman, saw it as such. It hadn't really bothered me until she stood up for me. It made me realize that I didn't have to put up with these high school jerks alone - teachers actually do care. Teachers notice things that even students don't.

Out of all my experiences in my years of school, this was the one that I remember the fondest.

Developing My Writing

In the past, I think I have mostly used Describing as my main developing strategy. For school work or for personal short-stories, I love describing everything. When I was much younger, I would shy away from describing the setting of a story and focus on character emotions/feelings/thoughts, but now that I am much older, I realize that describing the setting is important.

In high school english class, we had to do a lot of Argument-type essays. While I do see that it is important to learn how to write one, I don't usually write argumentative essays in my own free time. It was a good skill to learn though, since I know that english classes in the future will probably have me writing them all the time.

In high school, we also did a lot of compare/contrast essays. Those, in my opinion, are the easiest, especially if the teacher directly gives you two poems/essays/books to compare. I never really had trouble with compare/contrast essays, but they did improve over time.

Ken Harvey Makes A Lot Of Sense

1) It seems that Rose's life in Voc. Ed. was unsatisfying. Teachers were there mostly to babysit the kids and, hopefully, train them to behave like adults in the real world. In middle school, I definitely remember having a couple of teachers like that. There were some in high school, but I didn't really take their classes.

2) It seems that Rose remembers the other kids in his Voc. Ed. class better than the things he learned in there. His story gave me the impression that Rose discovered that there were many different kinds of 'smart' people - your knowledge didn't have to come from a book or quiz, but from life itself. It was hard for Rose to catch up in Math because he was an Italian student (not to mention math is just hard in general.

3) High school is disorienting for kids like Ken Harvey because they feel like they just don't fit in. Some kids want to be the best at something, while some just want to blend in. Kids usually try to blend in by not really excelling at anything. It's much easier to not try at all than to try and fail in front of the whole school.

4) I can't really compare with Rose because I didn't take BS classes in high school. I purposefully surrounded myself with other smart kids (or I tried to) and I took the hard classes that I did very well in. Sure, we all learn that real 'smarts' comes from life experience, but I learned that a much different way than Rose did.

4 Ways To Look At Bullying

Even though my essay isn't necessarily focused on bullying, in a way it sort of is. The way my classmates in French 3 in 11th grade treated me I guess could be considered as bullying, but I never really thought about it like that until now.

Associate: Bullying can make one think of those terrible days in middle school where the fat kid in class called you 'four-eyes'. But, as generations become more and more dependant on technology, bullying has moved from only face-to-face to face-to-online. Even though the kids in my French 3 class weren't saying anything mean right to my face, it does make me think of other kids who have had to deal with cyber-bullying. Though, some teachers and parents do say that ignoring a person intentionally can be considered bullying too.

Analyze: To be honest, it didn't really bother me that my classmates didn't include me. I didn't like them very much anyway - most of them were very rude, rich little kids who didn't have to work a day in their life. I hate people like that. Why they hated me, is a mystery. Even though I didn't like them, I was always nice to their face. I didn't say mean things about them to anyone (except my boyfriend, but him and I didn't have many friends anyway). Maybe they could tell I didn't like them. What surprises me, though, is that my teacher, Mme Haveman, caught on that they didn't like me and stood up for me. I never thought that she had noticed.

Apply: My story is just one of thousands when it comes to bullying. It could help support the idea the ignoring intentionally can be considered bullying. I guess what my story can be used for is for other teachers to learn from what Mme Haveman did for me - so often in the past I have seen kids get bullied and teachers just turn a blind eye. It's really sad, and so many teachers should be like Mme Haveman.

Argue: The only argument I can make is that bullying is a serious thing. People should take it more seriously and not turn a blind eye to it. Teachers should also learn to connect with their students more - it can really change someone's life.

Describing Swim Suits

Swim suits are clothing for men and women that they wear when they are swimming (you can't really go swimming naked, now-a-days). For men, swim suits are usually just long shorts that are made out of nylon and spandex. For Olympic swimmers, they have to wear Speedo's (pretty much underwear) that are made out of the same material. Men's swim suits can come in any colour and pattern.

Swim suits for women come in 3 different types - one piece, tankinies, and bikinis. A one piece is usually just a body suit that covers the entire torso. A tankini is a two-piece swim suit, but the top piece is usually long enough to cover the stomach. A bikini is a two-piece that only covers the crotch and chest area. All 3 types of women swim suits are generally made out of nylon and spandex. Women's swim suits can come in any colour or pattern.

Analyzing Confetti

Confetti is a decorative material that is commonly used at parties. Confetti is made up of tiny bits of paper, plastic, or glitter. Usually, confetti is in a square shape, but you can usually buy them in other shapes too (like, circles, happy faces, rectangles, suns, etc.). In a pack of confetti, there are usually larger pieces and smaller pieces. In addition to different sizes, you can also buy them in a variety of colours - a package of confetti used at a birthday party is commonly multi-coloured, but you can also get them in one solid colour (like, white, blue, pink, black, etc.).

Ben Franklin Wishes He Could Be Malcom X

The exert from Benjamin Franklin's Autobiography was very hard to read. True, the writing style of the 1700's was very different from the writing style of today, but it was still very difficult to read. His run on sentences made my eyes water and my brain go numb. There is no doubt that Franklin was a smart man - it just seems to me that maybe writing wasn't his strong foot. Not only did he have a problem with run on sentences, the point of his exert was hard to find. The reader didn't know that he was writing about how he learned to write well until almost the end (and my attention span was very short by that point).

Franklin's exert and Malcom X' essay are very different. Though Franklin's exert has a certain eloquence about it, Malcom X' paper was much easier to read. Malcom went straight to the point and gave many great examples in his learning process. Franklin's was a bit harder to find. Though both men learned to read and write in very different ways, I would much rather read Malcom X any day.

Pre-Writing Technique

Some of the pre-writing I have used in the past are mostly outlines. Outlines are very good for an essay because they really help you put your thoughts together and create a flow for your writing. Also, the great thing about outlines is that when you actually go to write your essay, you can change things or add examples as you are actually typing. Outlines are just a good way to get your ideas down.

Another great pre-writing technique I use often is highlighting and writing in the margins. Highlighting is a great way to remind yourself of important quotes that you want to include in your essay later - it makes finding them a lot easier than just underlining them or jotting them down. Writing in the margins also helps because I can highlight an idea and then write down a sentence or two further explaining my idea. Then, when I go back and re-read the notes I took while reading, I can pick and choose which ones support my thesis or not.

Of course, I never do this in textbooks that I don't own personally.

"Let me pull your coat about a cat..."

I read Malcom X's "Learning to Read" during high school, so this text was nothing new to me. Reading it a second time, however, did allow me to fully appreciate the work as a whole.

"Learning to Read" is a very good example of how learning something 'educational' can also help you learn a 'personal truth'. Malcom X, at first, wanted to learn to read so that he would sound smarter when writing his letters to Muhammad - and also understand what Muhammad was writing back to him. Malcom X had no problem admitting that he was not 'book smart'; he even admitted that it was hard in the beginning, which made him seem much more human and relatable to the audience readers.

Malcom X's desire to read into the early hours of the morning reminded me of myself when I was younger and had discovered not all books had pictures in them. Often times, my mother would have to come into my room around 1am to turn off my lamp and take off my glasses. Malcom X's unquenchable desire to read is what makes this text stand out from other anti-racism essays - he wants to better himself so that he can help put an end to racism.

In my opinion, this essay was a much better example than the first two about computers and Google. Malcom X's essay was more about how he became a better person by learning, and didn't just learn how to do something for a job or a social experiment. Also, the way he proudly displays his insecurities makes him more relatable to the readers.

"Learning to Read" was a much better example of what Essay #1 should be written like, especially since my essay is a 'personal truth', much like Malcom X's was.

How To Get An A On Essay #1

Make sure that there are at least 1200-1500 words. Our narrative essay should be on a personal significant educational experience. Make the essay as general as possible for the readers and try to direct your essay to a wide audience. Our essay can be an informal paper, may use I and you and doesn’t need a thesis statement.  Make sure to provide detail examples on your experience. Show a step by step process of your personal experience and how it affected your life. No matter the topic, try to make sure the essay is easy to read and interesting.  Make sure to have it typed in MLA style, which is provided in the back of “Writing Simplified” on page 93. Turn it in on due date or 7 days after due date. Make your paper convincing   for the audience. Since this essay is a personal paper make sure to use personal experiences and know that a work sited page is not needed. 

Our group has a wide range of ideas on what we are writing about. Karla is considering writing about how her boarding school showed her structure and the pros and cons of this. Kelsey is writing about how her French teacher in high school stood up for her and showed her how not to cast off teachers, and understand they are actually supportive and considerate towards students. Tiffany is thinking about writing on how her church shows her how to grow and learn as a Christian woman. Josie decided to write about how her 2 year old is showing her patience and how to adapt to imperfect situations.

Blog Post #1

I personally  liked the first article better (Web design), but both served its purpose. Both articles felt very impersonal, but that is understandable since they are both written for job purposes and not for personal gain. Both articles also focused on factual things people learn, not "personal truths." In my opinion, "personal truths" are always more fun to read. They are always more memorable too. With a "factual" essay, they just seem to be more cold; by cold, I mean they don't feel like everyone can relate to them. With a "personal truth" type essay, it would be easier to relate with the author, since everyone has life-changing experiences, even if they are all different.

While these articles are good examples of what sort of essay we are going to be writing, I wish we had read a "personal truth" essay with it, since that is the type of essay I am going to be writing. An example of a "personal truth" would also be nice because with the "factual" essays graphs, tables, and pictures come into play to make their story stronger. How in the world can you put those in a "personal truth" essay?