Hall 1121 Spring 2019

The Education Process by Shauntai Smith                                                                                                                                                                                          So, it’s going on three years and I’ve been dedicating my precious time, hard work and patience to the most crappy school known to mankind, New Dawn High.  If the beige prison walls weren’t enough to drive me insane my teachers definitely passed that test with flying colors. As you can probably guess this was not my favorite place to be. For starters, everyone began at 7AM and left at 4PM which is awfully long compared to the average school day and for some strange reason the fact that this didn’t bother anyone else bothered me even more. As I began to rest my legs on a chair that was laid out before me, I couldn’t help but think about my future, my life and what I wanted it to be like. My fellow classmates were “grown”, either they were in their early 20’s, the loudest babymothers you’ve ever heard, babyfathers trying to get their life together, pregnant girls, dropouts, drop back ins, thugs and so on the list goes. All the kids were either sleeping or sleeping, exactly.                                                                                   I hated it there. For three years I felt misunderstood like no one including the teachers got what my “problem” was. I had no intentions on coming to this school you know, my teachers could feel my uninterested aura every time class begun. How could learning things like how to perfectly dissect a pig or finding the circumference of a sphere be valuable to my life? I couldn’t focus because as they read from their over-sized textbooks that could barely fit into their hands my mind would fade out,blocking their words like it was nothing. I was the smartest, always thinking ahead of my classmates so i knew i wasn’t the problem. I then grew tired of what was expected of my education process. A little talk with my kind, loving and extremely supportive parents led me to really think about my next move.                                                                                                So, I dropped out going against everything society thought to be true about the learning system being “needed” for one to succeed I thought to myself “you gotta make ditching school count for something”. Every morning I got my ass up with only one thought in my mind, money. I had no idea that I was in for a rude awakening but let me get to that part. It’s Friday! I could feel my check already in my hands before it actually got to me. Shopping, Chipotle and even a bit of weed all circled continuously in my head as I stood in line to grab my envelope with the words “shauntai smith” on it. I’ve never seen my name on anything regarding to money, just turning 17 I had no idea what to expect but I knew whatever came out of that envelope was mine, all mine. I reach for my envelope and there it was staring at me and sadly to my surprise I stared back in disbelief. It wasn’t a very good number at all. A total of $296.75, more like a total of disappointment.                                           My nose began to burn. I was fully aware that I was a few seconds from  crying and thinking of how much the money did not match the pay nor the amount of energy that was expected at all times. How much could I expect from a job that let a high school dropout like myself come work for them at 17. I was a baby compared to my fellow coworkers. They had children, rent, mortgages and yet they were still were comfortable. They collected their money every week happily without a complaint in the world. At this point I began to question everything. Do I really want to be here, working my ass off for hours and hours to receive a shitty paycheck or do I want to feel good about the work I do along with a higher pay-grade? The one thing I knew is that I did not want to be like these women who were stuck under these circumstances because they couldn’t or didn’t want to commit to school as well as furthering their education. Being 17 definitely gave me an advantage in life, countless room for growth and promising opportunities. I still had a pretty good chance to get my life back on track, this pushed me to make another decision and this one might just be my best one yet! Trying to grow up too fast wasn’t in my best interest and this dreadful draining place was not where I was meant to be. The next morning I enrolled myself in a GED program.                                                                                                                         I’m aware that pursuing my GED wasn’t going to be an easy task, shit if anything it would be tougher to gather all the information i’d have to learn within 9 months in only 2 . This new school had everyone be registered to take the test in 2 months to eliminate the feel of high school (music to my ears). The school understood my concept, all I wanted was to get a diploma so I can study a subject of my choice for once in 12 years. Two teachers taught all four subjects and they got the job done! They made everything easier to memorize and took the complicity away from subjects. I sat in the front of every class, breathed in every technique and material my instructors had given us. I knew I could not play around with my future anymore. I couldn’t be the old lady at some job getting paid less for more. Day in and day out I studied my life away, attended each tutoring session I could get my foot in. At this point in my education process putting my inner feelings to the side to receive that diploma I was so ready to get was the top priority. The day for testing came quicker than the flash! My baggy sweats and furry sweater comforted me in my long hours of sitting down and answering questions. I received the news exactly 2 weeks from the day I took it and to my surprise I passed. I passed everything, all five subjects in one shot. I realized that it was not about me in particular, I didn’t have to be the best I just had to want it more than anything else and let fate take it’s toll.

Marginal comments HERE. Your grade and my endnote are in the comment section. 

Gilyard uses numerous stories to give readers a clear understanding or idea of what he is trying to say. When describing his younger days with friends he uses slang and non-standard english such as “But i’m tellin you homes, they ain’t gon do nothing but fuck you up.” I would definitely use this in my writing because it gives me a sense of realism from the author. Letting you see the raw, the good and the ugly no matter how it’s written. The dialogue he uses when telling the stories of his friends help build the story and where it’s heading and it sets the tone of his characters. It makes me want to read more and find out what’s at the end of it. Gilyard uses a lot of imagery to create visuals including other figurative language such as personification, this is language I enjoy because it makes the story feel real without it sounding boring and flat. Not only does he express significantly how he feels majority of the way, he indeed gives you a closer look at his tone throughout the book and how he portrays most of the events he’s explaining. To express some of the points he tried to make on his argument he used statistics, I feel this is a very strong thing to do in writing and trying to get a point across because facts are essential. They open the readers eyes and pull them in to what’s being told.

Shauntai Smith
ENG1121
Dr.Carrie Hall

Me as a Writer.

Who am I as a writer? Well, four months ago I went into writing with a clear vision that consisted of only one perspective, my own. The way others felt or even how I made them feel wasn’t apart of my goal, honestly I was writing for a grade instead of a purpose. I’d sit and type for hours to get the perfect essay but in my opinion there is no such thing. Writing is universal, in ways it can sadden you, cheer you up and in some cases even make you laugh really hard. Those are the writer’s goal and now it is mine as well. I was comfortable with forgetting about the outside world and it’s many views on how words can create emotions when i write. I didn’t think about how other people would feel nor did I care, the thought of others wasn’t in mind. If I liked it I assumed everyone would love it because I consider myself a great writer but you cant be great until you can relate to someone else’s way of thinking and assessing thoughts of others.
Earlier this semester I wrote an essay about my experiences with education and what it means to me. In my essay I stated that “I grew tired of what was expected of me and so I made myself more available to other areas of life, this included getting a job.” This sentence came off quite confusing for my readers because even though I knew what I was referring to I did not give them the same courtesy. I did not let them in on the who, what, when and why as I should have and I definitely could have clarified the events more concretely with evidence and meaningful description. Now, when it comes to my writing I am specific and detailed on every point I make.
In one my earliest piece of writing I wrote “The singer Andra Day is known for her beautiful voice that falls into the Jazz/Soul R&B category and her ability to capture tears and chills from her listeners.” Every step of the way is explained and has meaning for the message that I intend on sending. At the very start of spring 2019 semester I focused on some of Gilyard’s writing techniques and formatting. This helped me see how global writing really is. It has it’s very own language, one that isn’t defined or overlooked by “what society expects” writing to be like.
Writing to me is somewhat an escape, it gives me the freedom to express myself by using words. Words can create images, visuals, thoughts and excitement to others, that’s what makes it beautiful as well as intriguing. Doing projects about education, issues within the community and critical thinking writing has helped me open my eyes to a much wider audience every time that I write. Now I am thinking of others and what they may feel or want to feel, before I write I ask myself what’s my goal here and what do I want my readers to gather from my perspective as appose to not caring what they saw. I am a better writer, I have grown. So who am I as a writer? One that won’t ever stop growing!

Joshua Stone
Dr. Hall
English 1121

With the semester finally coming to an end, I’m still left with a question: have I improved as a writer? This class has definitely been one of the enjoyable courses I took. I learned a lot, met some interesting people, and definitely developed some writing skills. Dr. Hall has taught me that no one is perfect at something. I’m not a perfect writer and I know that for a fact. While, I learned my weakness and strengths, and how to exploit them. The biggest weakness that I have is that sometimes I don’t take my time doing things, like in this class writing as fast as possible just to finish the assignment; this only got my writing worse than it was before and I had to adjust my attitude of rushing my writings.
In Unit 1, I was talking about my graduation. When I reread my paper, I was actually surprised how much things I either did incorrectly or completely missed when writing. I was honestly perplexed on how much problems I found. But then again, I was that because I never claimed to be a good writer. However, I never said I was a terrible one either, so I was still kind of ticked off at the end result of my paper.
In Unit 2, I made a paper and video on one of my favorite artist,XXXTentacion. My main goal was to explain how he inspired me in a positive way while he was misunderstood and received negative criticism. However, the video I made didn’t really establish the point I was trying to make. I ended talking more about how XXXTentacion was an inspiration rather explaining the fact that he is misunderstood more. But even still, I’m more than confident when I say that the video carried my paper. I feel as if the video explained what I couldn’t put on paper much better.
In Unit 3, I made a video and paper again, but this time about the MTA. Once again, my video did a way better job explaining what I couldn’t put on paper. At this point, I’m just shaking my head at what I’m been putting on paper. I’m really in awe about how I haven’t really improved in writing. I’ve really been relying on the videos I make to cover my paper.
Overall, the only I was able to gather from Unit 2 and 3 is how much I rely on my video editing skills. And even my video editing skills are mediocre at best. But I can’t really beat myself up too much. With every unit, I suppose my writing skills have gotten better. I may not have noticed it then but I can kind of see it now. Dr. Hall has pointed out my weaknesses and has tried to help and it definitely has paid off. If there is one thing I learned from this course is no piece of writing is perfect. There is always room for improvement, even if you think your work is flawless. I see that now and can’t really too hard on myself when it comes to writing. Looking back now, I can see that errors are completely normal and that they can be improved on. Even you have to reread your work or have someone else read it, you can find what you did wrong and fix it. This course taught me that firsthand, and I’m grateful for it.

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Santi Gill

 

As a kid, growing up, as a kid does when growing up, there were many times when I would mess up, forget, or misunderstand something. Now obviously it’s common to do these things as a kid, but usually it’s the job of the parents to correct them in a way that they understand what they did wrong, and to make sure they know what to do to not let it happen again. My parents didn’t really understand that too much, which is why I almost never take myself too seriously, for better or worse. This is not to say I do not respect or have confidence in myself, I do, I just don’t see the reason why they would get so mad when they did. My parents each have their own mental issues on their own, so when they were together it was double the nonsense.

The earliest instance I can remember is around 2010-2011 when I was 11 or 12. Having just drank through three of them my dad told me to throw out the water bottles. Now the “system” we had of recycling bottles in the house was to throw the cap out, rinse the bottle, and put it in the blue bag. So I went to the kitchen, and took off the cap. It was water, so I felt no need to rinse the bottle with something that was already on it. You wouldn’t rinse yourself in the shower by adding more soap, unless you want a longer shower. Yet my dad still yelled at me to rinse the bottle. I tried to explain to him that it was redundant by doing that, to no avail. Lesson learned: nothing.

Then came school assignments. My parents were ludicrously hard on us about doing good in school, in the worst way possible. They were always pressuring me to do better, and I was never really good at math. I recall getting yelled at for not understanding how to subtract properly. This never did any good for me. It only frustrated me to wanting to do better, and feeling bad for myself when I didn’t do better, which would then lead to parents taking away things, like my phone, or the computer.  We also weren’t allowed to play video games on weekdays, which made no sense to me. All “immature-wanting to play a video game-I’d never be able to focus” tendencies aside, when I’m done with what I have to do, why shouldn’t I be able to enjoy myself afterwards? It only ever felt like a punishment. But all of this manifested in 2012 when they divorced.

My parents were kind of religious. Not too much, but enough where you had to take God seriously in the house or you might get struck by lightning or something. With this, I know divorce can never happen to us, because it would be a sin. Yeah, no, it did. It was November 2012, before Thanksgiving. I forget where we were coming back from, but regardless it was me, my dad,  my little brother and my little sister in the car. It was pretty cold, we all were bundled up with our puffy jackets that made us look out of shape. My dad was talking about putting up a tree, while we were trying to tell him it’s too early to do that. We pulled up to the house, and we see some guy speaking to my mom at the door. My dad walks in and the guy tries to hand him a piece of paper, while my dad ignores him and heads inside. I take the paper, and I read that it says “DIVORCE”. Obviously there was more on the paper than just that one word, but that was all I needed to see. Obviously I could see why it got to that point, they weren’t good together, which can be a story of its own. However, this situation mattered because everything felt turned against me, and events afterwards during the divorce process would double down on that feeling. My mom’s treatment to my dad was disgusting, and at the same time, I wasn’t emotionally mature enough to know, help, or understand how my Dad felt. This made going into high school hard, as I had to associate with new people, at the same time dealing with what was going on at home. One of the ways I was able to deal with all this was humor. Being around all that negativity is probably what gave me a dark sense of humor, but this allowed me to find the humor in many things. Obviously not everything though, otherwise I would be a psychopath. I realized that balance is necessary between work and fun.

However you find it, if you don’t find a way to have fun with what you’re doing, you will never feel happy. I love learning, and it is fun, but being yelled at to learn, or to do something, is not. Maybe I could’ve done things differently, I do regret not being social enough during this time, having someone to talk to probably would’ve helped, but nonetheless, I am who I am today because of it. I try to find happiness in the dark times, because if you don’t you will be lost.

Santi Gill

2/6/19

 

I was walking to my house after work, still in my ugly green sweater, with the cool air surrounding me and the sun setting on the city. I see my mom walk out, purse on one shoulder, and ask me to come with her to the store, so I go with her. She offered to pay for whatever I get, so I got a sandwich, and she got her things. The cook there was good. Don’t know his name, but I’d guess through healthy racial profiling that he was a Mexican man. But what mattered was not his looks, but whether or not the food he makes is good, and it always is. Ordering my food, the cook forgot what was in the type of sandwich I told him. My mom got mad at that, so I had to give her the rundown that not everybody has photographic memory, and that he cant remember everything on the menu and what’s gonna be in it. At my own job it’s kind of similar, but instead of food, its balloons that are available behind the cash register. Customers usually describe what type of balloon it is rather than say the number we put on top of it, so I have to turn around and look to see what they mean instead of just putting in the three numbers.

When she had finished with what she was buying and while I was waiting on the food, my mom got tired of the lady in front of her waiting to get change and bumped into her. The lady my mom bumped into just looked at her, and continued to deal with the cashier to get her change. All the while my mom is talking under her breath at her. The lady gets her things, talks under her breath back at my mom, before screaming at her before leaving the store, which causes her to try and go after the lady, which forces me to hold my mom back. I thought the whole thing was kind of funny. Two cops had been inside the store, also waiting on food, and the main reason I hadn’t gotten mine. My mom took notice of them and tried to explain what happened, prompting the cops to explain to her that if she tried to go after the lady, she would have been arrested. She had a fit and because of this was allowed to take what she put on the counter for free. It would have been nice if that was the motivation behind it. But no, just her being her I guess. I just wanted my damn sandwich. I ended up getting the sandwich for free too, but at the end of the day, I dont think she should have been mad at the cook or the lady, it didn’t make sense. I learned from then on that going to the store with my mom might not bring about good luck to the people around us, so I choose not to, unless I get a free sandwich.

Santi Gill

5/19/19

Carrie Hall

 

This writing semester was very proactive for me. Especially compared to my mindset present with me last year to now, I feel I have thoroughly progressed as a writer. Essentially, last year I was in school, taking this English class, 1102, and two or three other classes. But I felt mentally overwhelmed, I had wanted to take that particular semester off, but my parents had forced me to go pretty much. While I ended up picking classes that I liked, I was just not mentally engaged with what was being presented, and so my GPA suffered. I had the attitude that just being in school would be good for me, and would get my parents off my back. This combination is not good if you are me, and just do something for someone else’s sake instead of for yourself. To be honest I didn’t feel like I was there for myself, which is why I had no desire to do the work.

Feeling mentally overwhelmed did a toll on my grades definitely, and while I do regret it, I don’t know if it would’ve played out differently. I just did not feel good about myself. But I have had a lot of time to think between then and the semester I skipped this past Fall. To me, school is important, but if you don’t wanna be in it, you shouldn’t be. You should do what you want with yourself. This is why I appreciated this class so much, because I felt like I could write about what I wanted. I had the tools, and for the first time I had a teacher that said, do something with it. In the past I would be told to format writing assignments so specifically, and to be focused on one thing and one thing only. This class made me feel like I had some room to operate fully in. From the beginning of the semester to the end, I feel like I have expanded myself creatively especially with what I had done with the video essay in Unit 2. The laptop I had used ended up breaking down maybe a month or so afterward, but it was okay. From the first Unit to now, I undoubtedly believe that I have gotten better. In unit 1 I had used too much repetition and tried too hard for a joke, like the repetition I had in the first line. I had said, “As a kid growing up, as a kid does when growing up…”. I realize now how it didn’t really work for the tone of the essay, and I have grown since then. In my photo essay for unit 4, even though it wasn’t about something that happened to me, I used to have the habit of inserting my own humor into it. Unit 4 was really my first paper where I took it seriously. Even in the video essay it was based on, I had used the visuals to tell a joke (The Calvary Hill part). I have tried to limit my humor mostly because so many times in the past it ended up misguiding the direction I wanted the reader to go in. I have been more careful this time around, and have used it to better evolve my writing.

My grades are not the best, my attitude towards school isn’t what I think it should be, and I still have improvements to work on. I feel that in my personal writings, pacing is needing improvement. However I know that from what I’ve learned from this class, I will only get better. I also know that it will be quite hard to forget where that assistance came from.

Minhaj Uddin

African Folklore

Professor Hall

May 21st, 2019

Reflection

When it comes to writing for me I feel as if the only way I can express my writing is through my emotions. I feel as if when there is a topic I can relate to or I find it interesting then I will be able to write a well-developed paper. When I write through my emotions I feel as after I finished writing there is like a relief that is taking off my back because some of the work I get assigned I don’t think about, but then I eventually realize that it was a topic that I felt very strongly about. What I feel that I don’t enjoy writing about are when I have to read a passage or an article and then I have to write a summary about what it was about. The honest truth is when I read I get distracted very easily and I have a hard time because I lose focus. I can go on and on while reading and after a while, I would notice that I do not know what is going on in the passage of the article. I feel as if in this class I was given an opportunity to write about very important topics and there were given a variety of options of topics to write about, as for a typical English class the professor would have to follow the curriculum in a certain way that would make the class boring and the students would be sleeping or would have to force themselves to go. It shouldn’t have to be like that, the professor should have to talk and have relatable topics so the students can interact with each other and have topics that they feel that they would want to talk about and the professor is still following the curriculum but she is making her students engage in the class.

I feel as if when I first started writing in the class I wasn’t as engaged in the class as I was towards the end. In the beginning when I started writing about how I changed as a person from going to being a not so well student at the beginning of my high school years to coming to college and having a different mindset and not letting anything come in between me and my education was a major change. I feel as if I realized it the most when I started to write about it. I may not realize how helpful writing is because I do not do as often, but when I do write I like to write about topics that will grab my attention. One of the major reason that I have a hard time writing is that when I hand in an assignment I do not get the grade I feel as if I deserve. That is a major problem in college and English class because there would be many times that I wouldn’t go to sleep because I am writing a paper or I put a lot of feeling and thought in to what I am writing but I still end up getting a grade that I feel that I don’t deserve and that brings down my confidence in writing. I feel as if I am not good enough in that subject.

I feel as if in this class I had enjoyed writing most of the assignments. One of the assignments that I have enjoyed was the first unit essay because I got to say a lot in my writing and I felt as if I didn’t want to stop. The passion for writing to me is when I get to write about a story in my life that I lived through or I witnessed. When I am able to write about that I feel as if I will write with a lot of feeling and passion. In that essay, I was able to do so and I was given a grade that wasn’t the best but I can live with it. There were many other units in the class that was very interesting but this is the one that I felt as if it stood out to me and many people in the class have read it and gave back well-deserved feedback that I felt that I deserved. They had also given me feedback on how I can make my writing better and I enjoy that a lot because I know I am not a perfect writer but a good writer always has room for improvement.

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1iaCqUO8SEyGT2VXS0OmJhilEEXjRVH7eVRAhpwf9I3I/edit?usp=sharing