I don’t really know when exactly I noticed that I was “different” but, about 8th grade. My education started in pre-kindergarten where showed my first signs of emotional, social, and communication disabilities, however it was just chalked up to being a little slow. In elementary school teachers and students verbally, socially, and physically bullied me. Students both my age and older would use “dodgeball to physically attack me. I was often made fun of for being slow or “weird” and the teachers themselves would often leave me out of class and would use me as an example of what not to be like. Finally, after being told by my principle in front of my parents that I was “never going to amount to anything” it was right about then when I was officially diagnosed with Autism. After that I left the elementary school and I went to three other schools where I could get help from teachers that were prepared to help. In some of the schools I was still bullied though not as horrible and others were perfectly fine, but I not still didn’t receive the help that I needed to become motivated and overcome “scars” left behind. During my early education mother helped me communicate a phrase that I felt perfectly describe how I felt “Spiraling down in a world that secluded those who were different”. After going to 6th grade I finally meet people who felt the same way as I did, however it was short lived as junior high came around my mom decided I should be home schooled. After a year and half
What I’ve come to enjoy most about the sky, after years and years of gazing up at it, is that there are no limitations or boundaries. Beyond this planet, there is a magnificent space of experiences; unopened and unrevealed. I know there are endless possibilities when I look up at the sky and when I sit down to write. Writing gives me the same opportunity too creatively think just as the sky does. When I write my essays, I try to stretch my mind too creatively think as far as it can go just like I would when I would look at the sky. However, sometimes my mind can’t stretch that far and I fall into the trap of giving up. I get frustrated because it is difficult for me to analyze instead of summarizing or make my thesis as thoughtful and organized as I would like. Luckily, over this semester in English 1102, I have learned some useful tips to overcome these barriers. The greatest obstacle that inhibits me from improving as a writer is my tendency to give up, which is due to the struggle to organize a thoughtful thesis and analyze properly.
Ms. Gladson’s future classroom will incorporate a healthy mix of fun and organized. While thinking over the five procedures one should implement in their classroom, it was important that they recognized the organized environment of the classroom, but also allowed for positive interaction among the students. From entering the room to leaving at the end of the day, there are important steps that even seventh graders need to remember in their classroom. Educators should allow one week of training; in which they will learn the procedures, but receive a grace period if not completed correctly. Then, at the start of week two, they can expect the students to complete it on their own. Each procedure teaches a set of expectation that the instructor should hope to see from each student.
Before I started this course, I was anxious and was not confident in my writing. I struggled with contractions and repetitiveness, causing me to doubt my ability to succeed in this course. But despite my worries, I was able to succeed during this course, due to all of the skills I have learned and refined. This new knowledge has made me more confident in my writing and more hopeful for the future. Throughout this course I have grown immensely as a writer and have acquired new skills, allowing me to move onto future college classes and career opportunities.
Can one semester and class really change a person? Most would not think, it’s only half a year. How much can half a year do? I thought the same thing until this semester in Mrs. Wawrzyniak’s class. This class achieved so much in such a short amount of times it’s incredible. I can truly say over these 6 months I’ve changed as a student and person overall. It wasn’t always easy or fun but I’m glad I experienced everything I did in this class. I’m going to tell you everything we did from the little achievements to the huge ones!
I spent my entire life in school having trouble in understanding the learning in English when I moved to America at around the age of 6. I started to have some troubles with understanding and knowing a different language (English) in this country and also having a problem with communication with other people who speak English. It took me through the process to know and understand English when my mind was focused and understanding my native language Chinese Cantonese. There are some moments that I accidentally pronounced something wrong while I’m trying to learn English. I somehow accidentally mixed some ideas to grammar along with English and Cantonese. My ability to learn and reading at school somehow still become a problem in English. People in special Ed. said that I had a disability. By the word disability, I thought that only a disability only person who handicapped or in a wheelchair. By learning different disabilities, I learned that my disability works and struggles only the part of the brain function. Rather than a physical part than some other people who are disabled.
I’m a highly academically driven student and have several, quite lofty, goals for my time here at Texas A&M. I want to maintain a 4.0 GPA, or at least a minimum of a 3.5 in order to maintain my Cornerstone Honors status. My dream, and biggest goal, is to intern for a congressperson in Washington, D.C., and I also want to study abroad, hopefully in England.
I am a full-time student and I reside on campus. I am in the honors program and many of the honors cohort resides in Anthony or Sherman Hall. I am including this in my paper because I want you to understand that the people who I live with I am familiar with. Our laundry room is combined with our kitchen there is a nice table with chairs, normal kitchen amenities, and of course the washer and dryer. Sunday evening, I washed a load of clothes which is normal however instead of drying them and then folding them I decided to wash them and fold them wet. I folded my clothes in the kitchen area at the table so people would come in and see that I was folding my clothes and just make normal conversation with me.
Growing up in a Christian home, I was surrounded by people telling me about Jesus and what he for me by dying on the cross and saving me from my sins. Not putting together that it isn’t just about the knowledge of God, but fully believing what His word says. However, in eighth grade I started to see faith differently. That winter, four years ago, the church planned on going to Hume Lake as they do every year. I had gone to this camp multiple times, considered myself saved as a result of knowing bible stories. On one eye-opening night, a speaker explained the difference between knowing the real Jesus with all your heart and not just your head. I felt a tugging in my heart that night and decided to give my life to Christ.
From the first day I could walk my mom started to develop my athletic abilities and attitude. She would play catch with me, kick around a soccer ball, and teach me how to dribble, all at home in her free time. I was exposed to sports quite often because her, my dad, and their friends, played coed volleyball and softball. I additionally have multiple older cousins who she would take me to watch play in high school games. Here I saw not only how the games were played; as well as what a team player and how the correct attitude appears out there on the floor. As soon as I was old enough, she signed me up for recreational sports in a neighboring town. Most of the time those teams end up with coaches who don’t know what they’re doing and my mom was not okay with that. She decided to take it in to her own initiative and coach my team that way she knew I would actually be learning the sports the correct way and making improvements. She coached me in flag football, soccer, basketball, volleyball, and softball. Quite often one of my friend’s parents would help her coach. My mom led some severely successful teams in my childhood. Especially in softball where we won multiple trophies. Sometimes I would become frustrated because it seemed as if she expected more out of me than the other players and I was always getting yelled at; although, now looking back I’m thankful for all the yelling and correcting me that she did because it pushed me to be a better player.
I was born into a time of darkness. Quite literarily, during the first year of my life, my parents found themselves often not having access to basic necessities that we take for granted every day such as electricity or water. Both my mother and father come from humble beginnings, being born and raised in small villages in the outskirts of Armenia. Never would they dream of one day moving to a city like Los Angeles after the kind of life we lived since my birth. Yet what we perceive as completely unattainable to us was actually much more within our reach than we initially thought. With a hopeful perspective in mind, we applied for a green-card and miraculously won a chance for a brighter future in the U.S.
As humans of society, we all crave the respect and friendships of our colleagues. Unfortunately, choosing to walk in my Christian faith made those two components difficult to grasp.
With the conclusion of my junior year in high school, I was left academically exhausted, though I knew within three months I would face the perils of high school once again. I came to the conclusion during my ongoing summer semester that I would not fare well in my senior year, simply due to the fact that I was burnt out on academics, as well as having my schedule filled with college level classes. I fared decently in my first semester, though I knew that I had First-Year Composition and Intro to Public Communications in the spring, both known at the school to be incredibly difficult, due to the teachers only handing out four A’s in the past eight semesters. Spending four to six hours on a four-page paper resulted in an average grade (C), and spending nearly four days on my final research paper netted a 77%. Ending the class frustrated, I realized that through the class I became a better writer, striving to do better than the previous paper, affecting my overall diction that I used in formal essays, an overall organization in my essays as well as being able to analyze and properly cite sources within my paper.
During my first year of highschool, I was held to a higher standard, than my previous years at middle school. A lot of the teachers at my school were preparing us for a college level experience. One teacher, especially, was pretty hard on us and she was the English teacher. The first major paper that was assigned was a research paper that had to discuss a historical event and how that event impacted the world. Since this was my first major paper and I was used to this kind of writing, I ended up writing specifically about Alexander the Great and the wars that he fought in. I specifically detailed the battles and what was going on, but I did not talk about how it impacted the world. My teacher offered to proof read the papers two days before the deadline so we could fix any critical errors. I showed her my paper and she said that if I turned that paper in, I would receive an F on the paper. I always strive to get good grades and to pass with all A’s, so when my teacher said this, I immediately realized how important writing could be and I started to develop my writing skills. All of the factors that were in this situation, made it a rhetorical situation.
Growing up church was not a place we “had time” to attend, and God was not a part of our household. It was not until about four years ago, that I began my relationship with Christ. On July 18, 2011, I began to have nine plus seizures a day; I spent a lot of time in the hospital trying to get answers to my over-night attacks. During this time, I fell into a depression because of the lack of answers. I felt that I was just being given drugs to get me discharged. Many would send prayers, and ask me to come to church, but it was not something I wanted to do. At this point in my life, I held anger in my heart; going to church and hearing about a God I did not know didn’t make sense. My mother was my primary care taker, and dealing with my sickness was not easy. In 2013, she was invited to church by a co-worker, and she took me along with her for the “ride”. We attended citylife church, and from the moment worship began, I was in tears. While the Pastor was speaking, it was like he was speaking directly to me, and I thought to myself, “He must know about why I am so depressed.” At the end of the service, the Pastor asked for those who would like to accept Christ as their Lord and Savior to come up, and I could not get there fast enough. This is where my journey with Christ began, and I learned that it was not the Pastor who was speaking to me on this day. God already knew I would be in attendance on this day, and I needed to hear the message that was given through the Pastor. I
I was 21 years old when I came to the United States and needed to work in order to help my father and relatives with the rent. Three months later, I found my first full-time job making pillow cases and mattress covers at the Navy Yard in Brooklyn, and attending evening ESL classes in a public school twice a week. Additionally, on Sundays, I went to the American Language Community Center (ALCC) in Queens. Since I came from the Dominican Republic, I was on a hiatus from college. Nevertheless, I knew that learning English was the only way back to it. Despite suffering from sleep deprivation during that time, I persevered until the day I received my admission letter.