Birdland Dialectical Journal

¨What are you doing over spring break?¨, asked Jasmine, who has been my best friend since 5th grade. ¨I haven’t really made any plans yet or given much thought to it, I guess some plans may become made while the week moves on¨, I replied, while sounding really unsure. I was part of the second group

It was a normal morning in my house. As usual, my dad woke me up and I got ready for my day. I moped out to the kitchen where my breakfast was waiting. When I walked onto the bus and arrived at school. I walked into Kaneland John Stewart Elementary School and walked into my first grade room.

“Hello children,” said a voice behind them. “Yay,” they shouted as they looked at the yard duty with the smile of a winner. Yep everything was great, but a student was making another student 's life a little unusual and that is where our story begins. “Mia,” shouted someone it was Lainey.

One afternoon, Amanda was spotted by her former teacher, Ms. Tiny, who acquired questions about Amanda’s well-being, truancy, and personal care. Unsatisfied with the answer that Amanda

It was a normal morning in my house. As usual, my dad woke me up and I got ready for my day. I moped out to the kitchen where my breakfast was waiting. Then I walked onto the bus and arrived at school. I walked into Kaneland John Stewart Elementary School and walked into my first grade room.

Brennan was observed during the morning in his first grade classroom. At the start of the observation, the class was instructed to sit on the carpet for an activity. Brennan got up out of his seat and appropriately sat on the carpet. Brennan’s teacher, Mrs. Jones, began to engage the class in a writing activity. As she engaged the class in a discussion and wrote sentences on the board, Brennan appeared to pay attention as he stared at the board.

I slowly trudged toward the building, Rachel had already gone up to the other cheerleaders. I glanced back at the car one last time, wishing I was eight still like Jenny. Then, I had managed to make a sprint to the side of the school, where the dumpsters were. Carefully and quietly I slipped behind the puke colored dumpster. I let out a sigh of relief as I pulled out my book, and waited for the dreaded bell to

On yesterday, I did not have a substitute for my class. So, Thea Johnson was asked to watch my class. As Thea walked through my class, I began thanking her. She mentioned jokingly, “She haven’t had her medicine, and she didn’t want to be bothered.” She told me I had to do something about by “crazy students” and I better have some work.

she chirped, flicking her head off to one side. “I’m glad you 're enjoying the class lecture today.” “Yeah, me too,” I mumbled and heard the surfacing sounds of murmured laughter. Ms. Stweed had appeared a lot more friendly to me recently, smiling at me more, flourishing me with unnecessary positive praise, making frequent checks on me during class. I wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or bad thing, but for now, at least, I wasn’t receiving any detention threats.

We could of landed anywhere else but here and then I would be fine. I hate this place, I hate these people, I hate this yard, I hate everything about where we are!” I screamed. We are at our great, great grandparents’ house. But they didn’t live here, they passed away a while ago.

It was a warm and sunny morning during August, it was only the first week of school at McDole Elementary, I was in 1st grade. Mrs.Olma my teacher was walking us back from a bathroom break. Eventually when we were in the classroom she told us to sit down because she had something very important to say to the whole class. She made sure everyone in the classroom was paying attention to her. "There is supposed to be a fire drill today about now," Mrs.Olma explained.

She watched the twins settle into bed and she walked towards the bookcase. Callie looked for a book to read to them since this seemed the most normal thing that happened all night. She grabbed a small black diary from one of the middle shelves. She opened it and her heart dropped. Every page was a new picture of her.

I walk upstairs, because my room is in the basement, and I open the door to find my dad sitting at the table. “Good morning,” he exclaimed, as I start to put on my ID. My dad usually has a great attitude in the morning, which is kind of ironic to me because usually people are cranky in the morning. “Good morning,” i say back, and I pick up my fifty ton backpack and slowly walk out the door.

I walked to my desk to get my items out for the Oval, our sort of meeting place for the announcements. Mrs. Lannert walked toward the classroom library where I saw there was one book on the floor and one in the wrong place. "Who left this book on the floor?!" Mrs.

As a part of her treatment John & her brother (who is also a physician) advise her not to use her imagination in any way & rest, so her secret journal entries are the only kind of mental stimulus she has.   As the story unfolds the narrator 's mind begins to run wild. She becomes fixated on the yellow wallpaper that is in the old nursery room where she & John sleep. It reaches a point where she imagines a woman is trapped behind this stained horrid wallpaper.