Personal Narrative: A Place Called The Field

This past year, I have been apart of Naperville Central’s brand new Special Spaces club. When my friend approached me and asked me to join, I agreed even though I had no clue what I was involving myself in. In retrospective, I can honestly say that becoming a part of Special Spaces has been one of the most meaningful, fun, and fulfilling experiences I have had in high school.

I think that my family realized that I had crossed the threshold between childhoods when I began to form my own opinions. This first took hold when I took part in poverty stimulation at my local shelter. I was giving a character and a story behind the card I was given; the story made me become emotionally attached to this name I had been assigned and the family in which I came from. The experience made me question the prejudice of the society I was living in. How many times had I avoided eye contact with the people on the side of the road begging for money? I began a long journey of soul searching and questioning the beliefs my parents had raised me on. My thoughts were continually brought back to a book by C.S Lewis, it was called Out of the Silent Planet; a character named Weston believed that individual human lives don’t matter, they must be sacrificed to save mankind.

My palms were sweaty as I began the process of gearing up for what was ahead of me. The many ideas of what I could possibly accomplish today were whirling around in my head. One beat up shin guard after another, I covered them with a crystal clear white sock to match the dark colored jersey. I took a deep breath lacing up my new cleats I’ve been longing to wear out. The talk from around me was not my focus at the moment, so I stood quietly and put in my ear buds.

When I was young my Dad would always remind me of how important these years as a kid are. He would always say watch how you act as a kid, for it will set the stage for the rest of your life. So many people I know ruined their lives when they were kids. This small, yet so important statement runs through my mind everyday. I love how everyone says they don’t care what people think of them, but I wish they knew how important it is to have a good image. I am not perfect, but I would like to be close as possible. But as Salvador Dali said “Have no fear of perfection, you’ll never reach it. “ The problem I see is everyone wanting to be someone that they are not. Sure, we all have our idols that we look

The wind rushes through my hair as I speed through the back roads to my happy place. The humongous corn fields quickly disappear into my rear view mirror when I rip off the road into the field. I can feel the bass bouncing through out my jeep as Shania Twain blares through the speaks of my jeep. With my windows down, I’m sure everyone in 4 mile radius can hear my music too. My hands grip the leather wheel as I hit each bump of the open field. As I hear my friends singing Party For Two with me, a laugh escapes my mouth. I know my friends aren’t paying attention as I speed up to hit the steep 2 foot drop off. My body leaves my seat as I scream with joy, but Lexie and Mackenzie scream with terror as they bounce around their seats. Over dramatic

My field experience was in Ms. Felkins third grade classroom at Washington Elementary School. The class there are nineteen students total, nine boys and ten girls. There are two different ethnic groups in the class, four African American students and fifteen white students. Additionally, there are three students who go to a resource room throughout the day for academic instruction. One of the students goes to the resource room for thirty-minute increments throughout the day. Three students go to a small reading group each day to work on reading skills.

Six consecutive second place, Science Fair trophies sit in the deepest, darkest, most isolated place in my house... my closet. Upon entering the closet, I’m automatically overwhelmed with a horrifying stench, a mixture of plastic, metal, and disappointment, also known as second place. Once the scent enters the nasal cavity, it immediately calls war upon the cerebellum, attacking strongly and injuring the motor cortex, thus creating a chill to run through my body, leaving me powerless and without words. After the chill, next follows the noise. Mockingly congratulates me, whispering “great job, you almost had it,” oh the humanity; “second place” repeatedly echoes in my ear until I escape the closet.

Yesterday in Language Arts class was very awesome. The class got to go outside and me and Jesse were walking down the hall, when Jesse saw his little brother.

One day when I was like six I was hanging out with my friends Alexis, Henry, Jesus, Demil, Luis, and Randolph. And we were playing at a place we called tag house which was right across from where I live. The reason we played there Is because It was a big place to play In and It was two buildings together so we had more space to run around In. When we were playing one of my friends brought a ball so we started to play soccer. And we were playing then Alexis kicked the ball and ended up hitting a window. Once we heard the glass break we started to run away and my friend Randolph got caught. And the guy thought It was Randolph but It was actually Alexis that broke the window. So they made him pay for the broken window that he didn’t break and

When I first started doing my field experience last semester, I thought it was going to be easy dealing with children for a couple of hours a day. I was wrong though. Dealing with children who just got out of school, and who have been there for eight hours, was sometimes a handful. Last semester, it was difficult, but this semester was a little bit easier. My students were better, my availability to go was better, and it was a better experience this semester. These students showed me many more aspects that there is to teaching, and it was such a memorable experience being a tutor for two semesters.

“They’re bringing drugs. They’re bringing crime. They’re rapist. ...I'm not just saying Mexicans, I’m talking about people that are from all over [the world] that are killers and rapists and their coming into this country.” These are the disgusting insults that presidential candidate Donald Trump, who plans to build a massive wall around the United States, has recently scratched up to give his new modern definition of what it means to be an illegal immigrant. But despite these allegations, being an illegal immigrant has meant the same thing since the beginning of the history of the United States. An illegal immigrant is a hard working person who has no other choice but to leave the poverty stricken or hostile environment

I completed my field experience at Oasis and the YMCA. My experiences at both locations taught me a lot about what it is going to be like in my classroom when I start teaching. The students at oasis were Latinos that came from a lower income family and struggled academically. Every Tuesday I tutored the same four kids and I was amazed at how much they taught me in one semester. The students advanced so much while through out the time I spent with them. Many of them found it difficult to do their math homework but after a few weeks of working hard, they improved significantly. These special four students have taught me how to deal with several students at once, especially when they all needed my help at the same time. They also

We're looking for a place to settle down and start a family. We are both moving out of our parents houses. I work full time, I have two jobs as of now and my boyfriend is disabled by the state of Michigan he can't work so he will be taking care of the house he receives disability tho that is his source of income. We do have one dog, a boxer thats a year old, he is house trained Is there any requirements for him?

A loud continuous beeping was the first thing I woke up to at 7:30 on Saturday morning. I woke up the feeling of excitement washing over me, it was game day. I put on my Hawkeye gear and headed down to Kinnick Stadium. I walked and saw hundreds of other Hawkeye fans tailgating and waiting for the game to start. As I walked to the tailgating spot the shouts of go hawks could be heard along with the prevalent smell of alcohol. At the tailgating spot Iowa lawn chairs and white tables were set up. The table of food was stocked with Casey’s breakfast pizza, fruit, breakfast casseroles and chips. I heard the ting of the frisbee hit the metal post and the clatter of a bottle as it fell off. Then cheers of the two guys that had won the game. I then

I froze like a ice cube in the car. It felt like all the nerves in my body were engulfing me into a dark pit. The day has come, State finals! I could feel the blood rushing through my body all the way from my head to my tippy toes. We where arriving to the fields and I hade a feeling that what's to come was going to be unexpected. I got out of my car and ran to my team, time for warm ups i thought. Everyone kept hearing whispers of fear, and then the whistle blew. TIme to get out on the field. It was Game time!