When I was a child, I and my grandmother took a trip to my Dad hometown, Kingston, Jamaica. Kingston is the capital and largest city of Jamaica, located on the southeastern coast of the island. In his hometown, there is not much to do on any night of the week, so many nights I found myself walking around town looking at the beautiful lights and buildings. After an hour of walking I often gets tired, and head home for some rest. Although it’s bored at night, that was not a problem at all many people like the night quit instead. It a whole lot of fun in the day time, most especially on the beach, it was always a great turn up spot. The other day we went on the beach it was very nice and hot outside. I went in the water it was very warm and salty after a few I left the water, I was sitting by the coconut tree, eating some fresh coco nut, and my grand brought me a fresh fish out the water, they cook it right there and I ate some. in fact that’s was my first time to eat a fish fresh out the water. I will never forget this memory, because this was one of my best vacation, I had over my winter break. Making mistakes is human nature, we human make mistakes, but the one thing that comes out of these mistakes, is we usually learn a lesson. One lesson could be positive or negative but at the end you still learn something. Every human is not exempted. For my eighteen birthday party my parent got me a used car for my gift. Before then I already had my driver’s license. So I was excited
For my service learning project I worked in Mrs. Evelyn Costa's first grade class at Meadowlane Elementary. Meadowlane is located at 4280 W 8th Avenue in Hialeah, Florida and was constructed in 1957. There are one thousand one hundred and seventy seven students enrolled at Meadowlane Elementary school. Meadowlane has fifty three classrooms and fourteen portables and there are one hundred and seventy nine students per grade level. The school was built on nine acres of land. The student population of meadowlane Elementary is comprised of 97% Hispanic, 2% White, and 1% Asian.
“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.
Over the course of the semester, there has been numerous amount of areas where I believe I have improved in comparison to high school. What has helped me in my writing is the writing class and the in-class writing workshop. The writing class that is located in the Kremen education building has helped me with my writing greatly because in the writing center the person in charge teach us lenses and we apply those lenses to the writing, draft, or reading that someone brings in. The in-class writing workshop has helped me because other students get to read my writing. This is helpful because I get feedback from many students and they let me know what needs to be fixed. A new tool I have been using is They Say I Say. The book is very helpful because of the information and examples it provides such as the templates. I have been applying the templates into my essays and I have seen a significant difference.
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.
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.
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.
Over the course of the semester we have done numerous writing assignments in order to help us dig deeper into topics that we might not have known about previously and to improve our writing skills. I have never been an excellent writer. I’ve had trouble planning out where details would go in my past papers. However, there has been a clear improvement in my writing when looking back on the work that I have done in this class.
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.
Writing is a tool that will be used throughout my lifetime. It is a tool that is worth taking the time to perfect because it will only be beneficial in the long run. On my writing assignments, I earn A’s, but I still have areas that I need to work on. The areas that I struggle the most would be with simple grammar errors such as the use of commas, writing with an active voice, and writing short,simple sentences. First of all, I often do not know where to place commas in my sentence. I struggle with this because I tend to add commas in the wrong place, so I have become confused with the proper use of commas. This is a small grammar error that I can easily correct by learning where and when commas are needed. I have also found and been told that I write in a passive voice when I should be using an active voice. This is a technique that I have to work on by practicing it and noticing the difference while I am writing and reading. Finally, I often write run on sentences or sentences that include unnecessary information. This makes my writing unclear and difficult for the reader to understand. I could improve by writing shorter and simpler sentences that include only the essential information to get my point across. I have noticed these mistakes in my writing and it has also been brought up by others, so I am currently working on improving it.
The process to become an effective teacher passes through knowing how to develop a course syllabus, while placing my students at the center. As a future instructor at a university, I have to think through what makes class interesting, clear, and understood by the students. My primary concern and focus are my students. After reading through most of this week’s assigned topics and carrying out my research on the internet and the Walden library, I am convinced that as a future instructor my approach, theories of teaching, and those who I will teach are the core when preparing a course description.
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.
Looking in the mirror at the actual physical presentation of myself, I investigated what other people view when they looked upon me. At that moment, I began to realize what the features are interpreted as. My hair is pulled up and tight, various people have suspected military, but I have never been enlisted. My glasses and crooked teeth would suggest that my parents were low income, no corrective surgery or braces for me. My body image would be identified, instantly by women, as having children and I do have two sons. After one eight-pound boy and the other almost ten-pound baby my body did not return to its original dimensions, there was no weight trainer or nutritionist for me. My calloused hands will tell anyone that I am a blue-collar worker and the ring on my left tells them that I am married. Progressing through college and beyond will be my way out of the shell that society has created me in, it will be my golden door to freedom.
Dr. Christine Weinberger is a Mohs surgeon who removed a Basal Cell Carcinoma from my mother’s face in 2014. Today, my mother has no concern about recurrence in the area and only has a discreet scar along the alar crease. Impressed by her doctor’s professionalism, bedside manor and extraordinary similarity in interests to mine, my mother urged me to reach out to her. When I did, she invited me into the clinic to observe her typical busy day of greeting patients, removing initial stages of their skin cancer, histological preparation, review of the slides, and then either further excision or closure. She performed over fifteen procedures eliminating people’s skin cancer that day. I left feeling the thrill of adrenaline and exhilaration, having discovered that I wanted to spend the rest of my life as physically and intellectually stimulated as I was that day. The next morning, I woke up to an email from Dr. Weinberger, informing that they had a job opening and would like me to apply. Soonafter, I arrived for my first day and during the initial orientation period I was immersed in literature and training in wound care, anatomy, wound healing, suture and staple removal, unna boot application (for chronic ulceration), surgical preparation, sterilization, identification of infection, biopsy procedure, clinical photography, gloving up to assist in surgery, UPTs, and EMR documentation. After mastering these skills, I became responsible for a full schedule of 15-20 postoperative
My mother does genology for my family so I know that I am mostly a mix of African, Native American and not enough European to really think about. I look like a normal African-American girl and most people I come in contact with assume the same thing. To define myself without race I would say I am invested in the betterment of other peoples lives and performing in front of an audience. As a black woman I am affected mostly in my major, theatre, because being black is a factor in whether or not I am cast in certain roles. Personally it has been a rollercoaster going to predominately white-schools and still finding a way to love and appreiciate my blackness. I’m reminded of my race daily when I have to mix my foundations to find a shade that isn’t offered or when my theatre professors suggest I do a monologue from “A Raisin in the Sun’ and as of recently when I look at the news I am affected by the fact that the injustice in the world based on race could happen to me or a loved one in a heartbeat.
Despite my intellect, most colleges would classify me as a mundane, unimpressive person. I'm a white, heterosexual, Christian male: the most stereotypical example of a privileged person in America. I have experienced privilege, but I have also experienced hardships and inequitable stereotypes.