Author: Emely (Page 3 of 5)

To me, doing something I knew I was going to get in trouble for later was like plugging my fingers into the electrical sockets even though I knew I was going to get shocked. Sweaty hands waiting to get electrocuted. But getting in trouble wasn’t worth the aftershock, until I was in middle school. I had a teacher that, to my benefit, had the same beliefs on discipling students as I did. I believe that all crimes are crimes of passion. You don’t do something wrong without a reason or a motive. Mr. Molinari believed in this too. Instead of my well deserved detention, he’d take me to his drafty classroom with those warm yellow long overhead lights  and openly defy child labor laws by making me grade all of his students paperwork. Only way he’d get me to cooperate was if he bought me a slice of pizza. A pizza with a stench so strong, it masked the smell of his still warm, freshly printed paper.

Detention was always at 3pm after school- prime time for kids to play tag. Molinari’s room was on the 6th floor and filled with tall windows that overlooked our school’s playground. I could hear the laughter of kids, whose essay I was probably grading, running around and enjoying the warm but breezy spring wind and I didn’t feel an ounce of envy. Even though I was sitting in a cramped desk with my 6’2 teacher, having to tuck my feet under my chair so I wouldn’t kick him, I knew I would rather be here than anywhere else. As I removed and reinstalled the slopey staples from his paperwork, I began to read the Times New Roman written social studies essays and discovered I had a passion for history and a possible interest in teaching. I turned away from the distracting windows and turned my attention at the empty desk in back of me, neatly organized in strategically placed rows. I dreamed of the day I would be standing in front of those desk, teaching a subject I was so passionate about that I wouldn’t even mind the lingering smell Mr.Molinari’s pizza always left. I was thankful that my days of sticking my fingers into light sockets were behind me and I could finally focus on something more fulfilling: teaching social studies. 

Education Narratives follow us from childhood bedtime stories to now college essays and will continue with most pieces of literature we’ll read. While there are many important characteristics of an educational narrative, a good foundation would include a well written out character, plot, point of view, setting, and or theme. Educational narratives are only good if you feel like you’re taken on a journey while reading, if you can visualize to a tee what the author is writing. I think for those without a broad imagination, like myself, a good narrative could start with a personal story or experience rather than writing a fictional storytelling piece. A writer’s main goal is to have their voice and personality rooted in their writing and I think education narratives are empty without this. But I do have the concern that even with a good voice, I won’t have a story TO voice. I worry that my thoughts are too bland or not up to the college standard of writing. In high school you could get away with good writing if it had proper spelling, punctuation or textual knowledge. But I feel Education Narratives imply so much more than that. It’s what tells apart a writer from a story teller. I don’t know what’s personal and what’s oversharing. I might write about my experience with a teacher and why it’s motivated me to go into the educational field. Or if that’s too bland, I figure I’d go into depth on my relationship and family dynamic but I feel that’s too personal of a piece. Education Narratives should be personal though. I’m not sure what I’ll do but I hope I don’t babble as much as I am now.