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Personal Narrative: My Mentor

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I wanted Ms. Pillarella. She was witty, chilled and although sometimes exaggerated, very sophisticated. The minute all forty of us were told to pick a mentor, I knew everyone would start running to the teachers we all shared. So I knew at least seven people would go for Ms. Pillarella. I needed to get to her within the next half hour. Being that she was our International Baccalaureate (IB) English teacher, I knew she would assist me abundantly in writing this paper. My writing skills were mediocre, or at least they grew into mediocrity. In grade school my English Language Arts grades were never above a low three, an English teacher would be in my favor.
I was thrilled when she said she would be my mentor, but even more thrilled when she said I was her last mentee. I laughed in the faces of the other students who stood behind me waiting to ask her the same question, in my head of course. I have not even considered my topic. Instead of choosing a mentor based on my topic, I chose a topic based on my mentor. I now know that …show more content…

But over the course of the year she bragged about how she was the instructor of the school’s environmentalist club. I thought, although she may not know much about the topic, she was passionate about it, like me. After countless presentations about this paper over the next two weeks, I learned more than I really wanted to: It will determine whether we pass the program or not, it will take us all of senior year, it must be at least four thousand words, we must write the paper, not our mentor, it was our senior thesis paper and it will shape our writing for college. At that point, my excitement about Ms. Pillarella vanished. It wasn’t that I distrusted her mentoring skills, after all she was a teacher. But I distrusted her dependability as a mentor, after all she was the most disorganized teacher I have ever known. But that did not matter because it all

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