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English Narrative Speech

Decent Essays

Flying through the air the change of season from summer to fall can be felt with the cool breeze that hit my face, the wood chips from the playground dig into my knees as I achieve my farthest jump from the swing set yet. As I get up and dust the left-over wood off my pants I see my parents walking toward me with Mrs. Read behind them. They approach me with kind smiles, but worried eyes. I see my last spelling test in Mrs. Read’s hand and as usual I see all the red pen marks on it as well. Of course, it is common for a third grader to make spelling errors but not to my extent. I thought this parent teacher conference was going to end just like all the rest with me apologizing and saying I will try harder next time, but no today was different; as they all start explaining to me that I am going to be given a few tests over the next couple of days. But as soon as I heard tests. What did I do? Worry. Because I hated English and I was pretty sure English hated me. It was probably because English and I didn’t start off on best terms; what I mean is that when I was barely starting to speak the only person that would talk to me all day was my grandma and she spoke in the only language she knew how which was Spanish. Surely if I wanted to be able to respond to her i had to learn her language and that is what I did. Naturally English was just always a second thought in my mind. When I thought of English it was not English it was, ingles. So when learning to spell it was hearing the

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