My Favorite Time Has Come !

She went on to graduate high school and attend a community college. Family problems were beginning to be too much by then so she decided to seek solace from her English professor. The conversation resulted in her moving in with her professor; this had a critical impact on her life. Her professor provided a stable home and encouraged her to pursue writing at a four-year university.

Kim Brooks, we know has been “teaching composition at state universities and liberal art colleges and community colleges as well,” (Brooks 2) however what makes her truly passionate about the situation is her love for literature since she was a teenager. “Like so many, depressive, creative, extremely lazy high-school students, I was saved by english class” (1). Brooks demonstrates through these quotes her credibility, not only because she’s a teacher but because she truly loves writing and believes others should receive the education which she was fortunate enough to get. She was not apart of any clubs or extracurriculars, she wasn’t interested in other academic classes, so she knows how beneficial having the skills to converse, to write and to properly articulate one's self are. Brooks shares this personal anecdote, otherwise known as pathos, to relate to those reading, most specifically high school students like she once was. While focusing this piece mainly on English it can also be associated with other classes in high school as well. She is trying to illustrate how one can use what is learned in high school in their life if given the proper tools and taught skills which can be applied

¨The receptionist asked me in Spanish, ’Are you here for the English class?’... ‘I’m sorry. Our new session starts today, so I just assumed that’s why you were here.’ I was about to say no, but I stopped myself. Maybe it was luck that brought me here, or maybe it was providence... Maybe I would even learn enough to be able to help Maribel with her homework¨ (Henríquez 58). Alma does not know how to speak English when she comes to America. She is willing to learn and her sole motive is to make Maribel do well on her homework. Language is a huge part of life since it is a major way to communicate with other people. If she knew how to speak English, she would be capable to talk to Maribel’s teacher and discuss her advance and problems. Thence, they can get a better plan of education for

Lavenders’ ESL class, she decided that it was time for me to attend regular classes. I was so afraid, not because I would not be competent in the classes, but because I did not think I was ready for a full emergent in the language. I was competent and knowledgeable on the subjects assigned, Geography, Math, Science, but English? I was just completely in a mortified stage. Would I understand the teacher, classmates? Would I be able to speak clearly enough, so they would understand me? That weekend, before I was to report to my first all-English class on Monday, I did not sleep nor could I eat anything thinking about that moment. Monday morning I walked into Mr. Garfield English classroom. Mr. Garret was aware of me been assigned to his class; he was standing right at the door. When I came in, the first thing Mr. Garret did, was to ask the class to be quiet for a minute. He then proceeded to introduce me to them. I had never felt such a panic as I did at that moment. I was sweating, quivering; I felt a thousand eyes just staring at me. Mr. Garret quickly noticed my somber demeanor and immediately asked me to have a seat. I am sure he thought I was going to have a panic attack, and I’m not sure if I wouldn’t have if he did not step in quickly and asked me to have a

Linda had an easier time learning English than her parents did because of help she received at school. Upon enrolling in public school in the third grade, Linda was immediately sent to ESL class where she quickly picked up on the new language. Her parents, on the other hand, had a more difficult time adapting to American culture and the English language. Linda’s parents started out working low-wage jobs and eventually, through hard work and dedication, saved enough money to open their own travel-agency business. Linda’s father even had to enroll in language school in addition to his undergraduate education in order to increase his chances of

Friday, December 16, 2016, marked the day our “Baby Research Papers” were due. Unlike most days, a sense of urgency engulfed the surrounding air as students made any final adjustments to their paper. As for myself, my essay was hot off the press moments before class. On the front table laid a half sheet of paper for the class to take upon their arrival. In the meantime, groups of students socialized until everyone had arrived. Today’s topic of discussion was quite interesting. Mrs.Way had revealed Mr.Sunday’s secret obsession with The Road. He’s a Science teacher! Why of all books, if any, would he have an obsession with The Road? If I’m not mistaken, this is clearly Situational Irony! Anyways, class began moments later with Mrs.Way’s routine

Midlothian High School remains extremely well-known across the country for its intelligent, caring, and dedicated faculty and teachers. As a former student, I can affirm this claim. From History to French to Mathematics, my teachers made my learning experience feel important and worth-while. Despite this, among all these great faculty members, the English Department shines bright because of one teacher and leader that stands out above the rest. Mrs. Sharon Austin, my junior year John Tyler Community College composition teacher has impacted my life in extraordinary ways. Because of her influence in my personal education and growth as a student, I admire her greatly as a leader in the world.

My mom had the best intentions, but she didn't know how to help me. My mother was practically a single mother for two years I had to grow up real quick. She had to work and I had to stay home, lock all the doors, and find a way to keep my little sister entertained. For a long time I didn't understand why my father had left. One day we got a call that my grandfather was in the hospital. A few days later he passed. That moment changed every single person in my family. Everyone was broken, but yet the spark that had been dead in all of us lit up. Over time, many of the scars from the past began to fade along with my bitter attitude. These experiences formed who my family is today and how they have raised me to be. I now understand my hardships weren’t an excuse to be unkind. I have grown into a responsible women with strong morals and values. The essay asked how would I contribute to the diversity of The University of Kentucky and the answer is I have a spark. A spark that no one else but I have. The spark that's going to give me that push to fight harder and stronger than any other

Heather, from Ohio, sits with me at lunch and calls to talk about English homework. She can talk for hours. All I have to do is prop the phone against my ear and “uh-huh” occasionally while I surf the cable. Rachel and every other person I’ve known for 9 years continue to ignore me. I’m getting bumped a lot in the halls. A few times my books were accidentally knocked from my arms and pitched to the floor. I try not to dwell on it. It has to go away eventually” (14). – Speak, Laurie Halse Anderson

It begins with the essay, your AP Lang teacher scolds your class after mass complaints about constant in-class timed essays, and this will help you get into college. You’ve done your best work under these time constraints so you decide to test the theory beyond rhetorical analysis and synthesis. Yes, a timed handwritten rough draft will be The Big One, the piece of writing that will possibly be copy pasted into the application for the colleges that you are applying to, a fatal plea to pretend the life you’ve lived is a thrilling narrative.

I walked into room 160 and saw a group of anxious 14 year olds, waiting for the lady we had all heard so much about to walk in. Rumors about her ranged from “she will make you cry daily” to “she’s basically the human form of a fire breathing dragon”. When the bell rang, we all prepared for the worst. The small lady that walked in, with short brown hair and glasses too big for her face did not look nearly as intimidating as all the stories suggested, which was comforting on that first day of class. This was Mrs. Carballo, my AP US History teacher. She started our first day off by talking about the summer reading and our objectives for the year. By the time the second week rolled around, I felt pretty comfortable with the course...that is, until we all received books that were almost bigger than we were!

It was my first class, of my first day, of my first year at Sartell High School. As a freshman, everything about high school is nerve wracking. Simply just looking at an upper classman would send chills throughout your spine. Basically, school was prison at the time (metaphor). Every freshman would walk into their classes, crossing their fingers, and wishing to see one of their friend’s vibrant faces. I clearly remember that day; I trudged through the halls with some of my very best friends, and we tried to find our first classes. The smell of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies swam up my nose (personification); I then realized that I must be close to my first class, foods and nutrition. Standing outside the room, I look in and notice the room was white and vacant (Participial Phrase). My stomach dropped to the floor; I knew nobody in this class. I quickly glanced around the bare room, looking for a familiar face. The only other girl in my grade was absolutely the last person I would want to share this class with. She looked like somebody I would not normally want to associate with, conceited and stuck up. With rapid, quiet feet, I walked into the classroom, and I heard the rustling of papers (Prepositional Phrase). This could only mean one thing, a seating chart. I scurried through the chart and found my spot. Of course, I sat next to her, the cruelest girl in school,

Welcome back my friends to the blog that never ends. I’m so glad you could attend. Read along! Read along! There in this class is some prose that’s pretty crass. Be careful as you pass. Read along! Read along! Wow! How disappointed Emerson, Lake and Palmer must be in this sophomoric attempt at humor. Certainly, a painful finale to wonderful class. Admittedly, I have struggled to produce original and interesting content for these blogs. It wasn’t always so. In the autumn of 73, I experienced no such struggle. Ideas burst forth freely and often to form exquisite prose delighting my English professors. Indeed, the fact that I now struggle was a compelling argument to register for this class.

the day and English at night, but my transition was harder due to my poor foundations of the English language. I now had to speak, write, and read in English, when I preferred my native language, Spanish. Immaculate Heart Elementary School provided a tutor to help me read from the textbooks in my third grade class. I had difficulty communicating with the teacher and classmates. I felt embarrassed for not understanding English, and sad knowing that it was hard to speak with my Spanish accent. Even though I was placed in such an unfamiliar and difficult situation, I enjoyed the educational atmosphere. I felt safer in an environment where I had some individual attention. I began to write essays about various social studies related topics such as the 41st President of the United States and the Statue of Liberty. I recall spending a lot of my time thinking about the ideas I should mention in those essays, but I spent even more time trying to get those thoughts on lined paper. I wondered whether I was saying things the correct way. I felt behind compared to the other student in my class. I didn?t know the basics of grammar, like when to use ?is? and not ?are?, when everyone else had mastered that area of study. I struggled thinking in Spanish and

    Mrs. L was born in 1951. She grew up in a single family home with 3 bedrooms and 1 bathroom. Her bedroom had pink walls with white furniture with pink trim. In comparison to other families her family was average. They made about the same amount of money that the people who lived around them did. Her father, Mr. C, worked  in billboard postings and her mother, Mrs. B, sold Stanley products. Mrs. L attended public school and kept about and A to C average. Her favorite subject was English and her worst subject was Science. Mr. S was her favorite teacher because he would always tell the class what was on the test so they knew exactly what to study for. Mrs. L had a couple of good friends that she spent her time with also. They are Mrs. C, Mrs. D, and Mrs. E. Some events Mrs. L remembers from her childhood was getting her tonsils taken out at age five and kennedy being killed at age twelve. (word count: 170)