My First Day Of My Algebra Class Essay

When Mr. Clark originally taught at Eastside High School, the culture seemed very competitive and full of high standards. The students seemed very eager to learn and at a pretty high level for their age. Twenty years later, the culture flips dramatically. The school quickly goes from pristine to a graffiti-infested playground. The teachers are the prey and the students (mainly the ‘hoodlums’) pretty much do as they please. Education is a small goal for any of the students, and the students that do want to do well fear those “hoodlums.” Mr. Clark identifies this immediately when returning to Eastside High. During his first assembly, Mr. Clark let the entire school know that he was the HNIC. He gathered up all the trouble makers and sent them home, expelling them from school. Most were drug dealers, 5th year students, or drug abusers that were dulling the spark of the other students.

Algebra is a major mathematical strand that has been incorporated across all year levels within the Victorian Curriculum. The many components within and interrelated with algebra and algebraic thinking sets children up, not only for formal algebra in high school, but for life (Reys, et al., 2012). This paper will be addressing some of the main ideas and understandings associated with Algebra. Key skills, strategies and ways of thinking will also be explored along with strategies for teaching the content effectively.

A time that I experienced failure was when i failed my Algebra II class for first semester. My biggest error was that I didn’t retake my quizzes that i failed when i had the chance too. The first 3 months i didnt really tried, I would tell myself that I had a lot of time for the semester to end. However, i regretted it when i found out that i only had a few weeks for the semester to end. I stressed out the last weeks, I couldn’t go to sleep in the night. I would keep thinking of my grade and how i was going to fail the class. I knew that colleges were gonna see my grades for this year, my junior year. I really want to go to college, I want to make my parents proud. The last weeks, i did everything that i could. I did all the missing homework, and I tried to

2. Describe the pattern of growth in the “Number of people told” column for both Scenario A and Scenario B.

On the first day of class, after he was done checking in, he sat down to observe his classmates returning from their summer vacations. Initially, he walked in full of confidence and his head held high. However, that quickly changed when he heard his classmates speak French, and the feeling of intimidation washed over him like waves hitting the beach, “at my age, a reasonable person should have completed his sentence in the prison of the nervous and insecure . . . my fears have not vanished, rather, they have multiplied with age” (Sedaris, 1999, 1). For being a forty-one-year-old man, he thought these feelings of insecurity and fear in the classroom would have ended long ago. If he thought things could not get worse, he was mistaken. The teacher walked in, rattled off commands to the class, and then asked them to recite the alphabet. In that moment, he knew he was in trouble, “I’ve spent time in Normandy, and I took a monthlong French class in New York. I am not completely in the dark, yet I only understood half of what she said” (Sedaris, 1999, 1) and, despite the exposure he already had, he was still unable to understand everything the teacher was saying.

At 1:00 p.m. I entered into Evoline C. West Elementary school on Thursday, July 12 2012 for an interview with Mrs. Yolanda Lawrence. As I entered the classroom, I was greeted by Mrs. Lawrence, the head teacher in this classroom. Mrs. Lawrence has no assistant at this present because of it being in the summer. After I entered into the classroom, the entire class welcomed me with “hello Ms. Flournoy”. It made my day to see all of those smiley faces greeting me. This was a 2nd grade classroom which consisted of 17 students of which 8 were girls and 9 were boys. This interview and observation was a total of 2

I frantically searched my desk, underneath my chair, and inside my backpack, and it wasn’t before long that my classmates began snickering. Confused, I demanded to know why they were laughing. At first, they didn’t bother to answer me, and instead continued in their self-sustained amusement. After being harassed for the entire school year, this was the last straw for me; the panic induced by my missing belongings and the increasing frustration of being ignored pushed me into a very desperate state of fight or flight mode. However, in this case, I chose to both fight and

The mean for the column “mean” is 3.56. It is very close to the parameter of interest but is not equal to it. You can calculate a confidence interval for the mean of the mean column, but a specific confidence interval would need to be provided. In that case, the confidence interval would be centered on 3.56, not 3.5.

The average number of breakdowns from the simulation trials was 1.93 with a standard deviation of 0.20. No. of breakdowns per week

Today is the day, the day I would get the paper I worked so hard on back. It is a chilly fall morning as I walked to my AP Literature classroom. The classroom was full of vibrant colors that match my teacher’s fiery red hair, various pug pictures, and a shelf jam-packed with Mr. Potato heads. Mrs. Grimes, my teacher, is loud, impolite, and to say this nicely, she is an overweight older woman. I hate going to her class every day, nothing I ever do is good enough for her, she hates me all because I am quiet. So, I am very apprehensive about what grade I had received on this paper.

He would come dressed like some of the characters from the novels we would read and would sing really bad if he thought he was losing our attention, he was also the first to teacher to give me my first F. “How did I fail, I’m good at this, what did I do wrong?” I thought to myself as I examined the red marks all over my paper. I assumed this was just the first class to challenge my reading and writing skills; surely, I’ll do better the next time. Although I was confident in my reading and writing capabilities, I still couldn’t show my parents this, I figured it was a freak incident and it wouldn’t happen

“Hey, terrorist,” a boy called out to me from across the classroom, drawing laughter from his friends. I pretended not to hear and stared into my book. It was a typical day in my life growing up as a first-generation American attending public school in a poor Bronx neighborhood. Being one of the few Indian kids there, I was relentlessly picked on. My school was desperately underfunded where teachers often spent their own money on supplies.

This summer, I worked at a television production company in the development department. I applied to the internship very last minute and was hired just a couple of days after applying. Before going into my first day of work, I memorized the company’s website, trying to gather as much information as I could from it. I was excited to learn that the development department was female lead and, according to the website, composed of mostly women. In fact, the majority of the leadership positions at the company were occupied by women. Both my family and I were happy and pleasantly surprised that I would be getting the opportunity to work in such a rare entertainment environment where it seemed that appeared be equally men and women.

The first day of school is nerve-wracking for most people, for me, the first day was especially terrifying. The first day of a college class is probably more crazy than all others. My mom and younger sister, Michaela, were busy taking pictures as I attempted to run out of the door. After being homeschooled for the last six years, I knew it would be a much different experience. I had been in my room alone doing school; I was content with where I was. The morning of the first day of class, I was so busy that I didn’t have time to be nervous. However, as I ran out the door, my heart rate elevated to a pace of 138 bpm. I felt older, nervous, excited, and anxious as I left for Pellissippi. Although it had been six years since I had been in a classroom, I realized that all of my worry was for nothing once I walked into Ms. Brown’s class.

During my high school years, there were several teachers that I encountered. However, there was one teacher whom I shall never forget. In fact, he would be very difficult to forget, even if he were only remembered for his size, for he was an enormous man. His name is Anthony Sweeney of “Sugar Butty” my third form math teacher. To this point, I never knew the exact reason for such name but all students referred to him in such manner. He was six feet five inches tall and towered over us like a giant and he weighed over three hundred pounds. I never discovered his exact age, but, he must have been no more than forty, even though his hair had turned grey relatively early on, and there was a smooth shiny bald patch on the crown of his head. But, it is not just for his size that I remembered him. In fact, one of the things with I remembered distinctively was his sudden change in temper. One moment he would be very jovial and pleasant to speak to in class, and the next he would shout violently at some timid student who was merely looking through the window or he would become very mean and impatient with his students. For these reason, he became my absolute worst teacher.