The Summer Of My Eighth Grade Year

My eighth grade year of Middle school. I had many challenges, with making friends and subjects. But one challenge was mathematics.I knew my eighth grade year was most important when it came transferring into my high school years, yet I didn’t do anything to raise my grade in mathematics at that time. It wasn’t until two I had a very low grade in mathematics on my report card at that I realized I needed to do something about my low grade. So after that report in math, I really was determined to really bring that F up to at least a B or A. So I remember I started to go to after school tutoring to get help with my math subject. They placed me with a teacher named Ms.Alice. And she really helped me with my subject.

I can still remember that when I was in the first grade in the grade where I was supposed to actually learn to read and write my teacher didn’t teach. She would scream at me and scare me so much to where I remember , one day when she called me to read in front of the class and when I messed up on a word she would yell at me , and the whole class used to laugh at me. I remember that I cried in front of everyone that day and I remember exactly what she had said to me that day, “ grow up , learn to read”.

Literacy memories and events began at a young age for me, and while teachers and family members all impacted my opinions and preferences for reading, every book I read and writing assignment given to me helped me form my literacy story and come to enjoy reading. Many literacy moments came from when I was young, like my mom or dad reading to me before bed or teachers reading to me at school their favorite books. All of these memories were accompanied by everyone saying how great reading was, and for a while I didn’t believe them. I had so many forced experiences with reading that it was almost painful for me to pick up a book. But as time went on and the reading I was still forced to do intensified, a better relationship with reading and writing

When junior year ended last summer, I felt like I knew exactly what was coming my way-- after all, I watched three different groups of my friends go through senior years of their own. It was finally my turn to experience senior year, something it seemed I had known about for years, and I felt like senior year would be easygoing and uneventful. Now, it has taken just a few short months to realize how incorrect I was. If senior year has taught me anything, it is that one never really knows what comes next for them, even if they have a good idea. The monumental highs, as well as the deepest of lows, have kept me on my toes throughout my senior year.

The inevitable had happened; I, as a small child, was demanded to read. A little antisocial human being launched into a world of, at first, difficult words and lengthy phrases. While words and literacy were forced into my mind, I had reluctantly begun the adventure to enjoy and accept the art of literature. Later however, my hopes and dreams were crushed to pieces by a gruesome teacher with an interesting form of a so called “grading policy.”

As a child, I read non-stop. I used to spend entire nights reading, so much so that by the age of 9, I had developed grey circles under my eyes, which I wore like a badge. In school, I would use every free second I had to get just a little closer to finishing whatever book I had on hand. Ms. Carpenter, who always seemed as though she didn’t like teaching very much, frequently yelled at me for keeping my books on my desk so I could get to them quicker whenever I finished my classwork. She insisted that they were a distraction. But I always had a book to read, because every Friday each class walked in a neat line

Richard Rodriguez, in the passage “Remedial Reading” from his autobiography “Hunger of Memory”(1982), promotes active reading as a developer of one’s mind. He justifies his position by describing his initial experiences with reading, specifically his attachment to the reading. Rodriguez’s anecdote functions as an encourager of stubborn minds trying to read and displaying its potential to change their life for the better. Rodriguez uses a very descriptive style that may be too verbose for children but compliments the verbosity with enough explanation of his purpose for his message to be known or ascertained.

My year being a seventh grader has been filed with great experiences and growth. I was pushed to being the best I can be by my teachers and wonderful classmates in all of my classes. They did this by explaining to me how to make my work stronger and how to make me writing in my depth.This year has given me plenty of opportunities for my future.

I never understood the point of reading. My parents first introduced my siblings and I to its world at the early age of two. We were familiarized with letters, taught to link sound the visual and formed words with a stuttering start. We became accustomed to the quiet of Tuesday nights when my father would sit huddled on the sofa – my mother curled up in bed – his long nose buried in a novel, a black curtain cascading from her head to the pages, morphing into one with their respective books. As the night drew close the browns of their eyes would light up, while my mother’s red lips would quiver with excitement and my father would flash a lopsided smile. “Reading is an adventure,” they’d

Towards the end of my senior year of high school, I was preparing for the next chapter of my life. I would be attending UC Davis in the summer for a four weeklong orientation program, specifically for first generation college students. This was the first time I would be leaving home by myself to a different country and it was the first time in over eight years that I would be exposed to the American culture. I did not have any roots in any American city nor did I have a so-called “home state.” However, if there was one thing for sure, it was that Germany was my home and it has been for the majority of my life. In this paper, I will be discussing how the following topics in sociology: culture, socialization, and identity are related to my move from Germany to California as well as how I felt during the entire situation.

Every school year fifth graders face a big change from the lives they are used to. Middle School. It is our job as upperclassmen to assist these new sixth graders. These students need our advice, and help, to make sure they live out their middle school years correctly. The finest piece of advice I can give any student starting middle school is to plan out all your middle school years.

My first quarter was great! I really accomplished a lot of things and I received straight A’s on the report card so I’m pretty proud with myself. I joined Yearbook and Power of the Pen, I’m still in choir and in the band I’m first chair so a lot has happened. Being an eighth grader is different definitely! Last year I could walk down the halls and see people I knew that was older than me, but now I know a few more people than beginning of the year but still not a whole lot. When people say that they wouldn’t go back to middle school or high school, I say no because in middle school you are still a “kid” and you still are in a pretty good stage. Lunch is pretty fun too, I sit with my friends, Ellie, Sarah, and Cassidy. Classes are stressful

Before I could even read, I would take the newspaper and sit next to my uncle, pretending to read as he scanned each page. While I pretended to read, I thought about how all the letters represented something. How is it possible to read from paper and conceive a sentence? Every time I noticed my family reading the newspaper or a book, I envied them because they understood every word and I didn't. I recognized their reading as a secret club that I wasn’t invited to attend. Later on during my childhood, I start reading and just like every kid I didn’t want to read. I felt like a failure when reading, because I couldn’t pronounce words or even finish sentences correctly. My 2nd grade teacher called my mom to inform her of my lack of reading in class and recommended that I read every night. Just like any other caring mom, she started buying books for me to read. As I got used to the routine of reading a book a

You are in 7th grade. You don’t know why this year in middle school exists. You think this because 6th is the beginning and 8th is the end. Why don’t you just take this one out and get middle school over with? This year isn’t totally worthless, for girls at least. This is the year of your first kiss, mean math teachers, confusing friend problems, and your regular, tortuous girl lives.

“Okay Hannah I need you to read this sentence.” I looked down at the desk and I saw a flash card with a simple sentence on it, along the lines of, Jimmy was caught in the rain and needed to run home. But for some reason I was struggling to read the sentence even though it was quite simple. This memory comes from the first grade. At that age, I really started to notice that I was behind on reading and comprehension, even though I had no idea what comprehension was. I just didn't know what I was reading. As I look back now I have come a long way from my 1st grade self. It took many years of “special” reading classes to help me get to the reading level I'm at today. I thank all of my reading teachers for pushing me to try harder. I even saw