Reflection Paper

Considering all of my lessons this semester, my main strength would be modeling the lesson for the students and praising the students with positive reinforcement. I feel as the students remained engaged and they were always willing to participate, which allowed them to meet all of the objectives in my lesson. I was impressed with how well much the students remembered and understood from my lessons. I presented the instruction and goals for the lesson prior to beginning the activity. During the lesson, I frequently asked the students questions in order for the students to remain thinking as well as focused.

“Writing an essay is not difficult! I am actually great at it.” This is a common statement that I would formally say, and even believe. In the past, I had never felt the need to thoroughly revise my essays before. In all my past essays, I would work intensely on my first draft and then just turn the essay in. I never spent too much time re-evaluating my writing decisions before turning it in. This process had worked well for myself in the past, and as a result, each essay I turned it would be an easy “A”. When I signed up for EN100 I figured that it would be just like the other easy English class that I have taken. I assumed that I would work on an essay, turn it in, and then earn an A on it, but this was not the case. When I signed up for EN100 I figured that I could continue my previous essay writing methods, but that was quickly disproven. When I received my first graded essay, I was unsure why I earned anything but an “A” on it. It soon became clear to me that I was going to be required to change the way I formerly wrote my essays and spend more time with correcting them.

New beginnings don’t have to start January 1. The time for a new beginning is always right now; and what better time to embrace the motto “no more excuses.”

Every school has these four main academic subjects: English, Math, Science, History/Geography. The class I like the most in my eighth grade school year is History. This is because we get to learn about different time periods, different people, different religions, and so much more. We don't just sit in class and read out of a textbook. We get to do fun activities to help us understand more. While we work, we talk to our teacher and have funny and weird conversations. We make fun of each other and have a good laugh. I'm always excited to go to History class.

In our everyday lives, we tend to categorize people because of their race, culture, their socioeconomic status, and judge people by their looks, age, ability, and gender. When I was working at a daycare past summer of grade 9, I met one Chinese girl who was around 4-5 years old. One time I witness her classmates making fun of her because she has a asian accent when she talks in English, her eyes are small, her mom works at a restaurant with low pay. Even during break, I would always see her sitting in a corner all alone, while others were having fun. Therefore, I took the courage to talk to her. Throughout the conversation, I realized that she was mad at herself because she has a different race from others, language barrier between her and her classmates and she was ashamed of her mother working at a restaurant because other parents work at a higher pay occupation.

She compared her life to a hurricane, a natural disaster that took everything in its path and destroy any shred of light in her life. Thus, the weeks turned into years of regressive behavior that led her to believe that she was not good enough to truly be herself. She only allowed herself to be her mother’s puppet, an item only used for public occasions, for if she ever became her own self, she would be outcasted. Yet, during those times I recall a shout in the cave of darkness, a murmured voice saying: Carpe Diem. Seize the day. My brother used those words when I was little —he was an extroverted fellow who vocalized whatever he felt because he was confident in whom he was. Nevertheless, I was an introverted, insecure, and self-conscious kid who was silenced by the public because they scared me. Fear ruled my actions. Fear ruled my mind. Fear ruled me; yet, my brother’s words rang a certain alarm in my head when I grew up. Thus, I realized that my individuality was stolen. My silence was bought, and my uniqueness was used as a weapon for society’s cruel expectations. I noticed that the world has so many beliefs, ideas, and aspirations that I wanted my own drum to beat in my own rhythm.

Spanning 169 million square miles, the Earth is composed of countless regions, all of them incredibly different from another. This is especially true of the two places I have been able to call my home: Houston, Texas and Carmel Valley, California. I lived in Houston for twelve years, and while I found myself complaining daily about local characteristics such as weather, traffic, or school, I never knew how taxing it would be to make the transition across the country, from an urban-conglomerate hotspot to a quaint, nature-centered community. I found most of my hardship in being suddenly dropped into a public school, something I had only had nightmares of, as the public schools in Houston are of some of the worst in America, and I was accustomed to attending a Jewish private school for the first twelve years of my life. Every day seemed to drag onward a continuous eternity of loneliness. But if it were not for Mr. Stadille, the Carmel Middle School Drama teacher, I would not have much of a life to look forward to. Every day as our connection grew, I saw how impactful he is as a teacher, a member of the community, and as a friend.

I remember, when I was in 4th grade, I used to try to write books or stories. When I was younger, I loved to read with my mom. After we would read something, would try to write something similar to the book we had finished. My mom would help me read books like The Magic Tree House by simplifying and slowing everything down for me so I could better understand what was going on and why. Nina Sankovitch, a reader who blogs about what she reads, captures my feelings when she talks about how “I discovered new wells of resilience and joy, empathy and beauty” (Sankovitch). When I was younger, I did not always know how to capture these emotions, but my goal was always to make a story and try to recreate those feelings. It was a real accomplishment for me because, while this was happening, I struggled with reading in class. When I first started reading, I would dread being called upon, though I liked to write stories of what I read on my own. Now, I do not enjoy to reading anymore.

I feel that I have achieved the majority of my goals from the end of last semester. Looking back at my first semester writing portfolio, the goals that I tried to fulfill for this semester were either improved, or I fully accomplished. My goals were to use better vocabulary in my writing, and to proofread my essays more often, and carefully. Throughout this past semester I tried my best to keep these in mind, and incorporate them in my writing. I believe I have improved my vocabulary since first semester, and I have made sure to reread my essays, and I even had others read my writing to get other opinions. During this semester I have made new goals for myself. I think it is good to always have different goals that you would like to achieve, and once you do, you should continue to make more. My current goal for writing is to

I grew up in Greenville, South Carolina. Having had grown up in the south, I was always around people who are more traditional in viewpoints, especially when surrounding the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transsexual/Transgender, Questioning, and more community. I received my education at a high school where no one hesitated to throw around extremely derogatory terms. Throughout my schooling I had found close friends who had expressed their feelings of not fitting into their biological sex. Every time I heard them talk about their feelings I felt my heart sinking. I knew it was not fair. I found myself constantly feeling their pain. Feeling all their fear, anger, and sadness along with them because I knew that they lived in fear of people finding out who they really were and what their reactions might be. It broke my heart that they were forced into constantly fearing for their safety.

Over the history of this country, many families across the globe have come to the U.S. in hopes of a better life. My family was one of the many that decided to leave our home country and come to the United States. We never realistically imagined coming to America, but when we did, it was a real dream come true. Knowing I was coming to this country as a student was especially exciting for me personally. We were so excited about this new adventure and the opportunities we would have, despite the many challenges that lay ahead. Two of the obstacles I had to overcome, were having to learn a new language, and build new relationships.

To go along with being an athlete, I am a student. To be able to get playing time, you need to have good grades. My parents didn’t just push me to be a good athlete, but to get good grades. I had higher expectations compared to my brother. But that pushed me to keep my grades up and do get an A on assignments and tests. This impacted who I was and what I decided to value. It was important to my parents that I got good grades, but to me it was too because it helped me get into college and it made me feel good about myself. Being a student, just like being an athlete, teaches me to be diligent in the work that I have in front of me. It also teaches me time management, and what I need to get done compared to going out with my friends.

In school, I used to loathe the icebreakers that involved saying an interesting fact about oneself. I would fumble around and iterate some unoriginal sentiment about my favorite color or animal and leave without actually providing substance about myself. This all changed after I lost the vision in my right eye and could tell people about the three-inch needle that pierces my eye multiple times every year. I thoroughly enjoy watching people squirm as I chuckle and explain the process.

Since arriving on campus, I have been asked how I came to Miami several times. Some would say that coming here is destiny, but I disagree. Psalm 139 says that before I was born, “in Your book they all were written, the days fashioned for me, when as yet there were none of them” (NKJV, Psalms 139:16). While there are several main components about which I will write, I keep coming back to the fact that God placed me here.

Last summer my cousin and I were enjoying a meal with our families in China. It’s been 7 years since I last saw my cousin. We are about the same age and my favorite memory of her was celebrating her 11th birthday. I remember my uncle and aunt sitting to my right and my grandparents sitting to my left singing happy birthday as she blew out her candles. It has been so long I almost couldn’t recognize her when I arrived at the airport 2 weeks prior. My mom receives a call and leaves the room to pick up her phone. She comes back 10 minutes later in tears. She breaks the news to the family and that our trip would be cut short. She was diagnosed with breast cancer. In the following week, we pack up our bags and head out to the airport. She had to start treatment as soon as possible. I knew I would become the man of the house to take care of my mother and brother, who has autism, while my dad worked in New York.