Based off of what I read in the two passages, there are tons of tools orĀ “ingredients” that can be used to help build a well formed narrative essay . When reading, there was a lot of imagery that was being used. Describing the authors surroundings in her eyes and how she views it. One technique that would help one start their narrativeĀ is to first, identify what impactful moment you’d want to talk about. Following that, do a free write of the entire moment. Treat it like a diary entry. Include every detail that one would think should be included in the paper. So you have a solid summary of the experience. Then using the writing that you have, identify the parts of the story you would like to expand on. One concern that I do have is that I will not be able to write four pages worth of details of the moment.
A moment that changed my views on the educations system was when i was made to feel insecure about my ADHD by my very own fourth grade teacher. In the classroom that was covered in words to help with students academic skills. While the lights were off and the natural sunlight filling the room from the windows. The smell of pencils and dry erase markers were very prominent. In the middle of our reading period, the class was expected to read 10-15 pages of the book we chose from the classes library then answer questions about what we just read. Unfortunately I had a lot of trouble comprehending anything that I read when I was a kid. Focusing on one thing was a struggle as well. Suddenly every color and picture were yelling at me to look at them. By the time the clock ran out, I had only been able to read four pages. Student after student stood up explaining what they had just read along with answering the teachers questions. The closer it got to me the more nervous I became. I knew that when it would be my turn, I could not deliver the answers the way the rest of the class did. The sweat in my palms started to become more prominent as time went by. When it finally became my turn, reluctance was displayed in everything I did. As I was slowly standing up, the sweating has intensified. Ringing in my ear was as loud as a siren that was a block away from me. The teacher asked me questions that I was unable to answer. The more I stuttered the more the look of irritation grew on her face. Eventually her small amount of patience ran out and told me to sit down. Following that, she proceeded to say a set of words that I will never forget for the next 10+ years. “ Maybe this level is not meant for you since you can never seem to answer a question”.Ā There was a feeling of a spotlight on me. The class grew quiet as 9 year old tears were welling up in my eyes. The feeling of shame and humiliation was one I couldn’t run from anymore.
