Summary Of ' Watch Out '

The principal’s final verdict was so crushing that it left a lump in my throat. My childhood years of trouble making never caught up to me; I never thought it would. Every year, I would end up in one incident or another, but the result was simply a slap on the wrist. This time, there was no escaping punishment. I was to have in-school suspension for three days.

In remembering her seventh-grade class in 1965, Charlotte recalls how much she and her friends loved Miss Hancock. They were "backward" because they "had not yet embraced sophistication, boredom, cruelty, drugs, alcohol, or sex." Because of their innocence and their sheltered environments, Miss Hancock "was able to survive, even flourish" as their teacher. Charlotte recalls when Miss Hancock read poetry aloud, the class "sat bewitched, transformed," and they were "drugged by some words as some children are by electronic games." This description juxtaposes the end of the short story. Miss Hancock's teaching career no longer inspired the children because they were no longer the broad-minded, influenceable children they once were. Nostalgia eats away at Miss Hancock, especially in the case of Charlotte. Once so inspired by the composure of a metaphor, “grown up” Charlotte, when asked if she still wrote metaphors responded, “oh, I dunno.” Miss Hancock once knew the mesmerizing and transformative power of words; however, as she and her students aged the words lost their power, in turn she too lost power.

I have to thank the book, The Great Gatsby for helping me find my prolonged love for my English teacher, and every English teacher since. Out of pure coincidence, as soon as I read my first assigned book, I suddenly got along with my teacher. I read the book for no reason other then that I finally thought that a book that was assigned, sounded interesting. And sure enough I was right. I read the book and enjoyed it. Before I read this book, the teacher and I were really at each others throats, literally. I found out from a fellow student that overheard her talking about me and she said that she would love to have the chance to knock me out. I laughed at the thought, since she did weigh about 100lbs and was over 60. I am very thankful for The Great Gatsby, and thankful that I read it. Since reading the book, I have joined a book club and bought a few books, and am in the process of reading one right now. A lot of things changed

At 1:00 p.m. I entered into Evoline C. West Elementary school on Thursday, July 12 2012 for an interview with Mrs. Yolanda Lawrence. As I entered the classroom, I was greeted by Mrs. Lawrence, the head teacher in this classroom. Mrs. Lawrence has no assistant at this present because of it being in the summer. After I entered into the classroom, the entire class welcomed me with “hello Ms. Flournoy”. It made my day to see all of those smiley faces greeting me. This was a 2nd grade classroom which consisted of 17 students of which 8 were girls and 9 were boys. This interview and observation was a total of 2

It was not the voice they were familiar with to greet them. They had almost come to expect Mom’s warm, quipped voice, or perhaps Mrs. Fletcher’s sweet, pitched calls, given how many times it had happened in the third grade. They remembered the hot embarrassment of having her repeatedly yell to them in the middle of class, of having students snicker as their slow, sluggish returned to the present.

As I am walking down the hall to Ms.Johnson’s room, I see something different. There is a sub today. I just really hope she isn’t as mean as she looks. When I walk into the classroom I get my folder and go to my assigned seat to start my “do now”. When the teacher walks in she says,”Everyone sit down and don’t make a noise unless you want a step!”

The exuberant and laid back Miss Hancock made for a great elementary teacher but not so much for secondary. The high school students quickly strip Miss Hancock “of [her] 15 years of overblown confidence” (77). In reality, the students need a sterner teacher that can balance laid-back with discipline. Moreover, Miss Hancock is too dependent on her confidence; as soon as her confidence is broken she becomes pathetic. A “desperate

Today is the day, the day I would get the paper I worked so hard on back. It is a chilly fall morning as I walked to my AP Literature classroom. The classroom was full of vibrant colors that match my teacher’s fiery red hair, various pug pictures, and a shelf jam-packed with Mr. Potato heads. Mrs. Grimes, my teacher, is loud, impolite, and to say this nicely, she is an overweight older woman. I hate going to her class every day, nothing I ever do is good enough for her, she hates me all because I am quiet. So, I am very apprehensive about what grade I had received on this paper.

The first day of school started no differently than any other day, aside from the added the stress of looking spot-light-perfect because, when being captain of the cheer squad she had to look as expected: flawless. Once at school, there was a different vibe in the air--almost tense, but also friendly--which placed Lany on edge. Whispers surrounded her in the hall, which made sense to her because she had big shoes to fill of being captain. But the faces which surrounded her were either snarling as if saying ‘really, why is she captain’ or saying ‘wow, she did that.’ Nothing out of the ordinary until Lany arrived in homeroom, Trigonometry, where the school's disciplinary officer was standing, waiting. Before even turning toward the door, the officer

Laurie, at first, did not seem at all interested. But when Laurie’s father and I both said that we knew that he was Charles, he just stared at us. “Laurie, or should I say Charles,” said Laurie’s father, “Your mother and I are very upset at your behavior.” “Lying to us is never the right thing to do. Not to talk about all the other trouble you have caused. Kicking the teacher, yelling in the classroom, being fresh, and telling other kids to say swear words is absolutely not ok Laurie!” I could see that Laurie felt a sense of fear. “Laurie,” I said, “Your father and I are going to have to punish you for what you have done. But first, we need you to apologize to your teacher and all of the students for your behavior during the past couple weeks. Do you know what it means to apologize?” “It means to say sorry,” said Laurie. “Correct,” I said. “So when you go to school today, I will ask your teacher to give you a chance to have a word

Today was my first day in Mrs. Ferguson’s first grade class at North Mahaska. When I arrived the students were not in the classroom yet so I talked to Mrs. Ferguson about my schedule for the semester. She said that today I could sit in the back and observe. I was a little disappointed because I did not feel a warm welcome like I have with my other observation experiences. Once the students arrived, they began their bell work where they practiced writing their name. I was surprised by this since the students are in first grade and should not have to practice writing their name.

Her Mom and Dad said, "Okay we will not be giving you a punishment but you better get those grades up!”

Moreover, to this day, as you plant your eyes on this page, I never understood Mrs. Dickerson’s rationale to physically penalize her entire class due to one student’s dopey

My eyes drifted around the room before settling on the tea, now lukewarm in my hands. Maudie’s nonchalant face came to mind, and her firm, strong voice commanding Jean Louise and I back into the kitchen played in my head. The sudden news of Tom’s death had upset her, but she revealed nothing as such. She said to Jean Louise to stop her shaking and instructed me to control myself. Maudie maintained her composure, and assisted in upholding mine. I wondered how she had done it, but nevertheless I was grateful.

The final bell rang, and students erupted in a joyful chorus of cheers as summer break began. I sang a melancholy dirge of self-pity. My bitterness increased as I waited for my mother to pick me up. She came at last and I jumped up, anxious to leave forever. Again, Mrs. Thomas thwarted my plans; she came outside to talk to my mother, undoubtedly about my ignominious fate. As they murmured, I viewed the co-conspirators with hostile eyes. I'm a victim, the final sigh of my fifth grade year whispered wearily.