Reflection Paper

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Haley, I 100% agree with you when you say that if we try on our writing assignments we should have no problem passing this class. This is a requirement that I noticed throughout this first half of the semester. I also have problems writing. I can write/type all day long about nonsense but when it comes to grammar or formatting I get lost. I believe that I have learned a lot sense the first writing assignment, but I know that I can learn more. Sometimes when I am writing I get frustrated because I don’t know how to start the paper. Therefore, I am glad that most of the papers we have written have the requirement to use a summary that we previously wrote. I think that having a pre-written summary has helped relieve the stress of starting a paper. I also perceive myself as more of an academic. Yes, I love to write, but I don’t necessarily like to write about specific things. This class is a requirement for the degree that I am going for, like you, and I probably wouldn’t have taken it if it wasn’t required. I would have probably taken a class that focused on poetry or free writing. Anyways, good luck in the second half of the semester.

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.

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.

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.

Tick, tick, tick. You look up to see you only have a few precious seconds to sprint down the field past the two remaining defenders and hit a shot with precision and enough speed and force to get past their goalie. As you sneakily avoid the first defender the other comes from the side and shoves you causing you to fumble your stick and lose possession of the ball just as the time runs out. While some may shy away from any activity involving an opposing player shoving, slamming into you or pushing you out of the way I yearn for field hockey season. I pride myself as an athlete on being the type of player that can take a hit get right back up and make you pay on the next play. I have always believed that no matter what sport or even what gender an athlete's true character in displayed when in the face of adversity. It did not take long for adversity to find me. Summer had ended and I was back at school for my senior year. My first two classes had gone just fine, it was the usual get to know your teacher and get to know the class stuff, but here in third period English things had just changed. Our teacher told us to write about what we had done this summer, pass it to the person to the right of us to read and then discuss with one another what we had read. I sat next to a friend as usual and she passed me her paper on all the exotic trips she had gone on. I always made sure to sit next to someone I knew, but what I forgot to take into consideration was who was sitting to my

My dad and I had a pretty good relationship with each other. We even set up days that we would have a Daddy Daughter Date. I loved to go on those dates with him. We would get all dressed up, me in a fancy dress and him be in a suit and tie. We would always go to a sushi restaurant, because that is the type of food that I loved to eat the most then. He didn’t like sushi as much as me, but for me, he would take us there, every time. After we ate a very fancy dinner, we would hop back in the car, and go to the Saline High School. In there, every month or so, they held a “Daddy Daughter Dance”. I loved to go there with him. All of my friends were there too, even my friend Kellie.

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.