For your fourth post assignment, please complete the following tasks:
REVIEW: Please review the handout on paragraphs we went over in class. Please also watch this slide show for more information on paragraphs.
THINK: Think of one specific incident that changed your views on education. Picture the scene. (This video takes you through the activity we did in class.)
WRITE: Write a blog post of at least two distinct paragraphs describing one specific incident that changed your views on education using Concrete, Significant detail. The incident you described in class will be a great place to start.
Growing up my father always told me that to have a good job I would need a great education. I watched my father a construction worker dark skinned and very toned man. He was a perfect fit for the job and would always get added to a new project when one was available, but job after job he would quit the site. I once asked him how come he wouldn’t just stay and get the money, he told me that no matter the education or money if he was mistreated or treated any differently from the other workers. At the time i didn’t realize what he was talking about but I would soon figure it out for myself.
As I walked into the supermarket i felt this cold breeze of the ac mixed with the cooling for the meat in the freezer. I am in the most gentrified neighborhood i have ever been in. I am alone with my fears and anxiety, it was midday going into the evening. It was spring people wore shorts and shirts and i even saw crocs. I feel the anxiety walking through that store my bag became heavier and i began to draw a cold sweat in my shirt. As I was in with my work application in hand I could hear the whispering of the Caucasian people and the eyes that followed me as I walked through the store. I walk past the empty register that needed filling which I hoped was me, the isles were filled with produce and a old man was re-shelving everything. I asked for help and hesitantly a rather pale girl about my age working at one of the registers helped me to the manager. The manager asked who sent me asking how I learned of the position, I then told her that my friend deivy told me of the position and she grabbed the paper from my hand. As she turned away I felt the disgust in her face as she looked at my paper. I was just excited to start my first job.
Note: This is what I came up with i have an idea on how I can relate this to education but it needs further attention.
Very good work here. This is a harrowing story, and I want to read more about it. I think it definitely is the basis for an education narrative. Remember that an education narrative does not have to take place in a classroom or school. It is a story about a specific occurrence or event in your life that somehow transformed you. Maybe if shifted the way you say yourself. Maybe it changed how you understand the world. Maybe it taught you a very specific lesson. So all you need to do is zero in on what made this a learning experience for you.
During my recent two week trip to Japan, I realized how big the world can be, via its traditions and cultures. And that a spontaneous action to commit to a personally big trip would spark understanding that people live totally different lives around the globe. I am a person that most of the time is closed off and reserved, I feel that there is nothing wrong with being introverted. But recently I found out that the world needs to be seen and that can’t happen if we are indoors. As I got out of the airport I felt the summer breeze flowing through the busy streets of Tokyo. The streets of Shibuya were so big and diverse that my body forgot all about the jetlag. Shibuya was bigger than Times Square, it was the go to spot for shopping, dining, and sight seeing it had it all.
The culture shock didn’t hit when I got out of the airport or when I went out exploring the big city or even when I got lost trying to translate the Japanese signs in the gigantic subway system, But If you walk just ten minutes away from the city you will see this this small shop in the corner that when entering it transports you into a room with strangers that feel like long time friends. This was the Almond cafe and hostel. The cafe was like a baby that had extremely loving parents.. As you enter through the wooden door you hear a small “ding” and that is where you are greeted by the Warmth and hospitality of the staff. In the mornings you smell the coffee and the fresh sandwiches that are made daily. As you sit down you start to notice the homey atmosphere with its modern rustic wooden tables and chairs and benches. Minimalist decorations. You sit down with a vibe to the calming playlist mixed with the calm beats of lo-fi and soft jazz as the waiters bring you a much needed refreshing cup of cold water that is crucial during the summer heat. You can sense and see the effect of diligence this brings based on the people sitting left and right from you. At this point you feel like you have creative control in what you want to do next. Most of the time you feel like you need to study or work on a project that you have been procrastinating on. I can only dream I had a third place like this back home.
Great use of concrete, specific detail. I cannot wait to hear more about why this trip was so transformative and educational for you.
This night had started off as almost any other night had. My 4 neighborhood friends and I playing in the alleys behind our houses, no older than 10-11 years old. We played innocent harmless games like manhunt and even just letting our imaginations run free. This one night in particular though was different. My friend, Lets just call him Jason for the purposes of this story, Jason had just learned how to use a lighter and eager to show us so as kids do we all met up and played with it. In this dark alley, which was only lit up by moonlight, we had decided to gather leaves and sticks to start a campfire. After about 10 minutes of melting leaves and failing I noticed two figures walking up to us, In the darkness it was hard to point out specific features. With the moon outlining their silhouettes I could tell they were police officers.
As black teenagers growing up in america at some point in life you are taught how to react to police officers, The do’s and don’ts of interacting with law enforcement. Me personally before this moment i never was taught those lessons. Within 5 minutes of seeing those officers something that seemed so innocent I started to notice multiple red flags. We werent doing anything wrong but as they approached and asked what we were doing, where we lived all types of questions, I had never felt more gullty in my life. Thankfully my cousin was across the street so he came and helped us.
This is a harrowing story that you are beginning to tell, and I am looking forward to hearing more about it in your essay. Good use of concrete, specific detail. I also think you are already making it clear that this event in your life was transformative and educational, if also terrifying.
It was the summer and the sky was gloomy and gray. The air coming out from the open window smelt musky and the air outside was very humid. The sounds of the loud bangs and the clapping sounds coming from outside made me shake and in that moment I felt a lot of fear. Beside me was my dog that was also scared of the noise coming out of the window and feeling a shiver throughout my body. Sitting on a soft couch while watching flashing lights from the window made me realize how scared I was of thunder.
I wanted to get up from the couch but the shock going through my body wasn’t allowing me to. In the living room the air was very cold and my body was shivering. I don’t know because it was because of the temperature in the room or because of the fright that I had. As more flashing lights and the loud bangs began to wonder why am I so afraid. I began to analyze the flashing lights. I realized that in a storm everything can be so scary and ugly. But storms end and the aftermath of the storm is beautiful, which is like real life. Sometimes we go through something scary or go through a really hard time but at the end of the day they end and they always get better.
Good start here. As you write your essay, make sure you make crystal clear what exactly the event is that you are trying to narrate. What, in other words, is exactly happening in this scene? And why was it both a transformative and educational experience for you?
During my first day of high school in my senior year, I went to my first class of the day, and I decided to take a seat at the back of the classroom where the lights were dimmed. I remember observing everyone in the classroom as well as the students who were walking in, the shirts they had on, the shoes they were wearing, and if they wore glasses. As I was embracing all the new faces, it occurred to me that I didn’t know a single person in that dim classroom, until I recognized a single unforgettable face. As it turns out, amongst all the students in the classroom I had found one of my childhood friends sitting at the front of the classroom taking the same class I was in. Of course, my first instinct was to go over to converse with him, but then I thought to myself, “What if he doesn’t remember me?”. It turns out not only did he remember me, but it was like we never even lost connection over the years.
As the class went on day by day, I realized that having someone I trust and can talk to really helped improve not only my grade in that class but also my confidence. I remember sitting beside my childhood friend, pencil in hand and a freshly turned page, as the teacher assigned group work. The only issue was the group work required three to four students and with me and my friend, we needed at least one more student to join. I looked around in a rather barren classroom as everyone either had their head down or staring into nothingness and saw a studious yet laidback individual in front of me I decided to invite him to my group along with my childhood friend, who also looked lifeless as he stayed up late, to work on the group activity. Of course, at first, this was awkward but since I had my friend with me it made it significantly easier to talk to others as we could all engage in the conversation, so it didn’t feel as awkward.
Now why am I telling you all this? Well, one thing I’ve realized about high school in general is that you don’t get to choose who you want to work with, just like in real life. Of course, there isn’t an issue with this, life is life, but when it comes to education, I think it’s important to have someone you can relate and talk to because I believe doing so will allow new relationships to form within the classroom and can positively impact your grade as you gain feedback. What I mean by this is that so many times have I seen students go to class just to get the grade and leave, they don’t talk or converse unless called on to do so and this will go on for the entire semester. I believe part of why this occurs is because students don’t have the confidence to approach other students when they’re all alone, this all changes when you place mutuals in the same classroom together because now not only can they relate and talk to each other, but it gives them the confidence to talk to other students as they know that they will have each other to talk to even if other students don’t. So, I guess what I’ve learned from this is it is always beneficial to have someone you can trust and rely on educationally, as it makes learning interesting and easier.
I enjoyed reading this. You are a very clear writer, and I think this all can be incorporated into your essay. I want to hear more about the exact moment you reunited with your friend. What did your friend say? What did you say? How did it feel?
Seeing my mom work and strive as a single parent, she is my role model because I want to be as strong as her. Growing up in a household of 5 boys, my mom had to work and had to make sure all her boys were good. I’ve seen my mom struggle and growing up now I understand and realize it’s okay to struggle because the will to keep going is what matters the most. My Mom always told me growing up that “there’s always light at the end of the tunnel” and that stuck with me throughout life because I know it’ll always get better no matter how hard it gets. Growing up everything wasn’t giving; I wasn’t silver spooned, but my mom made sure I had my needs. I became very motivated to make my own money because I knew at a young age that I couldn’t use mom and dad’s money forever and I liked buying clothes and shoes. I decided at 16 that I had to get a job and become independent, during the time the pandemic was still going on, so I had to get a vaccine shot to start working. My mom told me not to get it because it wasn’t tested but I made the choice to get it.
To this day, my mom is still my motivation. She pushes me to be the best I can be, and I strive to be the best for her. The lesson I learned from her and continue to learn is to never give up, always try because you never know when it’s going to be your time. Her actions motivate me every day to get up and make more money, I personally think that life revolves around money because without it you’re very limited to what you can do. I like nice clothes and I like eating good food lol, so to continue doing what I like to do I’m going to have to keep getting money and become rich. One of my end goals is to get rich or to the point where I’m comfortable and get my mom a house, also I want to pay so she can travel the world because that was her dream. She always wanted to explore the world but really didn’t get the chance to because of us. I’m telling you this story so you can find the motivation and will to keep going and be successful, my motivation comes from my mom, but you can find it in anyone or thing. Just ask yourself what is it that makes me strive for better every day.
I think focusing on what you have learned from your mom is an excellent way to approach this assignment. Was there any particular event with your mom that sticks out in your memory as especially important? Can you recall a specific moment where your mother had to teach you something about life that you did not yet know?
My outlook on education made an unexpected transition when I transferred to my previous high school for my senior year. During my time there, I learned the importance of being educated and how it brings individuals together when facing adversity and being under a large umbrella of struggles. During my first few years of high school, I found myself trying to grasp the value in mindlessly transitioning from class to class to listen and write down a bunch of notes; and in the end, try to make sense of it all. When I first got to high school, I found myself looking down hallways that seemed endless; they were filled with hundreds of people. The expressions on their faces were devoid of any optimism and joy and they walked slowly; it’s as if the zombie apocalypse was based on the life of teenagers in the morning. I hated it. I made excuses for myself and tried everything in my power not to attend on some days. Back then, I had just come from graduating from junior high and to start over in a completely different environment was tough on me at first. The importance of what I did after leaving a situation I felt accomplished in didn’t strike me then and it hadn’t until my senior year.
I transferred to a small school in the middle of Harlem. It was a very old establishment; cracks and walls with many coats of paint, pipes all over the place, and the floor was dented and soft all over. But aside from the less than perfect design, I met unique minds in the bodies of students and an incredible group of teachers and staff that would help me get to where I am today. The symbol of the school was a great phoenix rising up from the pages of opportunity and wonders that can be called education. It truly was a place of rebirth; people with all sorts of backgrounds and issues coming together in this place to bring out the best within themselves and to learn the principles of life and education. People at first glance that you would never imagine making it, made it. The students I collaborated with in the Office of Student Activities, the students I collaborated with on student government, the teachers and staff I collaborated with to enhance my portfolio and grow my repertoire; they were all fascinating. The simplest desire to remake themselves and educate themselves brought them together. I was honored to be a part of that. And I still am.
Good work here. I think you make very clear why transferring schools was so transformative to you. I look forward to seeing how you are going to flesh out this story into a full essay!
I cannot point a finger at any specific moment except the first day of school. The sculpture of the educational system etched its lines on my mind since that day. It should have been early September of 2007, a cold morning, or maybe that is how I felt. I had my clothes ready, bought them two days before, and that would be the first time wearing them. I do not remember my way to the school; however, I recall that they held a ceremony for us, the new starters. My mind retains most of the memories from the classroom. Seeing all the kids my age was not something new because I had spent one year in kindergarten and was accustomed to the experience.
All around me were children like me, nervous in our new clothes and not knowing what we were doing. But there I was, sitting on the third table in the middle row. I remember sitting there quietly with a kid who is a friend nowadays. And if all the eyes of all of us kids were not enough, we had our parents watching us from outside that red door. The teacher got up one moment and talked to us for a couple of minutes, and then she gave us a task: to write our names on that giant board with those chalk sticks. One by one, everyone was wearing a different colored shirt, and everyone had a unique worried face. From that day, all of us started walking the same road as we were told to, one by one, shining in different colors, with our parents watching us from the sidewalk.
Wonderful use of concrete, significant detail. I think this is a great starting place for your essay. Moving forward, you will want to clarify, however, what the significant event is and WHY it was educational/transformative to you.
During 2020, the start of my 10th-grade year in virtual, I didn’t care about my classes at the time. I was in the comfort of my own home and l would just join the meeting and go open a new tab to watch something. One of the classes I did this with was my ELA class, My ELA teacher Ms. Martinez was energetic and always pushed the class to engage in the lessons. Doing what I was normally doing, neglecting all the assignments that came my way. One day she called my dad to ask why I wasn’t doing any of the assignments, I didn’t respond to that question because I had no reason. She then suggested we have meetings after school, and I agreed since I had no choice but to.
At our first meeting she was helping me make up my old assignments, at first, I didn’t wanna do this but I was able to complete multiple assignments, The meeting helped me focus on the assignments which made it easier to complete. After that meeting, we did more until I was caught up, and weekly meetings to finish the assignments I got those weeks and we were both able to get to know each other. This experience I had with her made me realize that I can do what I want if I put all my focus on it even at first if I think it’s hard to do. She believed in me and I was extremely grateful for it.
At the age of 12, I realized that I always overlooked the significance of my religion in America since I believed that being different had a negative connotation. I would always notice the difference between me and my classmates since we all came from a different background from one another. Both of my parents are from West Africa, in a country called Guinea. They migrated to America in 1990 in order to escape poverty and to be able to finally experience their American dream. Although they left their home behind searching for better opportunities, they were still determined to carry on their language and religion within me and my three siblings. As a first- generation American I always wanted to fit in with the crowd so whenever my dad came and picked me up from school in his traditional African robe and spoke to me in his foreign language, I would always feel awkward and reply back in English. It wasn’t until I started going to middle school and surrounding myself with people of the same culture, I began to acknowledge my African. Now when I tell people where I am from, I always end it with, “I get the best of both worlds.”
Despite the arduous process of understanding that my background is very much different than the standard, this country never fails to remind me that I am a minority. That was on my mind as the ninety-degree weather hit me walking out of the crowded Union Station into downtown Washington, D.C. Unlike my home in New York City, I saw many more trees and much less diversity. I quickly noticed that I was the only person within sight that was wearing a turban. My discomfort was interrupted by the arrival of my Uber. Excitement took over for the next twenty minutes because I had been waiting for this day to come. Finally, we reached the doors of Georgetown University, where I would spend my summer participating in their International Relations program. I walked up the ramp to the Healy Family Center to check in. I was greeted by girls with blonde hair that dropped straight down their backs and boys wearing caps that hid their loose curls. Again, a pang of discomfort shot through my body as I touched the turban that covered my hair completely. I didn’t see anything that resembled my identity or culture.
Growing up I always embraced and appreciated my culture, not that I don’t anymore. I grew up with people from all kinds of backgrounds, Asian, Hispanic, black, and white, so I don’t think anyone I’ve known was racist. I believed everyone was hard-working just like my parents. They told me to work hard, study hard, and get a good job. My mom works in house cleaning while my dad works in construction and while their ideas on ideal careers for me were narrow, they never stopped supporting me on my decisions. They can’t get better jobs because of their immigration and educational status, which led me to believe that I had to listen to them. It never crossed my mind that people could feel some type of negative way towards them for that.
I’ve never been personally discriminated against, as a child, I believed that racism was a thing of the past until I learned about the hate people contained. It was a Summer day, maybe a bit too early for everyone to be at the park and play soccer, zombie tag, or handball so it was kind of empty. The sun was beaming radiant heat, the blue sky unbothered by the small clouds drifting around. My brother was talking to our two friends about Trump and the things he said about immigration. My childish mind would jump to the most frightening conclusions while listening to them talk about it, not fully understanding what it all means. The questions racing in my mind, “What will happen to my mom? My dad?” or “What will become of me and my siblings? Would they be able to take care of me on their own?” It was perplexing to me. Why does he feel this way about Mexicans, the same people who I see outside every day working so hard to provide for their families and live a better life? It helped me realize that I have to work hard for my parents so that they don’t have to work so hard when I’m older just to get by.
Back when I was in middle school, I attended a small school in a small classroom. The walls were covered in posters and desks that were so old from many years of being used and written on. My teacher, Mr. Vigo, had been teaching for more than a decade and was known for his dedication and passion in teaching. On a bright sunny day during a history lesson, I would typically be a quiet student hiding behind students so that I won’t be seen and/or called upon, but on that day I decided to take a chance at the lecture. The topic of discussion was a historical event, I had felt a strong urge that wanted me to share a personal connection with the class. As I raised my trembling and sweaty hands with so much fear and anxiety rushing through my body, I saw my teacher, smiling kindly, chose me to speak. I took a pause and a deep breath, collected my thoughts and then started talking. I shared a story that was told by my mother who had lived through a very tough time when she first immigrated to the U.S.
As I spoke, I could see all of my classmates instantly listening carefully as well as my teacher and I could see all the genuine interest in all of their eyes. I saw that as soon as I finished most of the students there were impacted by my story. I would then come to the realization that personnel connections or anything to do with that was a very strong power people have. This experience was a turning point for me because it made me realize that finding personal relevance in what we learn can help us to engage and inspire us to build ourselves. This can also make every student’s voice feel valued.
What does home feel like? Honestly in my terms/ opinion home is somewhere you can feel comfortable, loved and where you’re surrounded by family and friends. Home is also where I developed my love for knowledge. On a rainy day I spent my day home alone, due to the weather. It was a pretty raining and cloudy, so I decided to head to my desk in my room. At first I was going to draw but I started to study and do a little bit of self reflection. Reading was always a hobby of mine but I never really thought of journaling so this was my first time doing so.
The mood being set with the rain and the cloudiness was great, the sound of the rain drops and the traffic in the background made it the perfect setting. It allowed me to focus even more. I started to write about myself due to that being the instruction for the composition writing I was assigned. I noticed myself being more descriptive than ever and I was actually enjoying the whole thing. It felt like I was connected to everything around me, it was a very unfamiliar feeling but it was a great experience.Not too long after my parents came home and read my assignment it wasn’t perfect but I felt it was the best piece of writing I did at that time, even they loved it. But I did take whatever advice they gave me and used it to better improve my writing.
Adriano Franca
Far-left row, facing the exit door, all the way at the back was where I sat. For most in the classroom, it was just another day back in class, at the end of another summer, in another cold room with some noisy air conditioner. But little did people know that the day ahead of me was about to be one of the scariest days in my life. That day, my body went through a whole spectrum of feelings. Adrenaline rushed through my veins though no crazy activities were being performed. I had butterflies though I wasn’t riding a roller-coaster. My stomach rumbled though I wasn’t hungry. At one-point automatic actions, such as breathing, closing and opening my eyes were no longer automatic. I could feel the wind flowing around me as my heart pumped blood faster and faster as I looked at the clock on top of the whiteboard. I could feel sounds going in and out through my ears. And though many conversations were taking place in that classroom, all I could hear were noises coming out of people’s mouths as if I was listening to a radio station without an antenna. Funny enough, the only thing I could comprehend was the sound of milk being poured on cereals we were given for breakfast.
Being a kid who lived majority of his childhood in Brazil and coming to the U.S. as a middle schooler, was not easy for me. Students around me had to work hard, but as a non-English speaker at the time, I had to work hard twice as much, however, thankfully, I had the opportunity to attend a school with an ESL (English as Second Language) program that supported me throughout my path and made this journey less scary each day I attended school. Following my school schedule, I was brought into a separate room for classes specifically for non-English speakers. Some might think that it made me feel different from others, however, in my opinion it made me feel the opposite. In ESL classes, I could show a lot more of myself to others as I wasn’t scared of making mistakes, after all, everyone over there had the same objective; learn English.
Note: This is just a draft, I still have to work on a lot of things especially on the second paragraph.