I knew from the time I walked in the classroom that my teacher was about to give us this lame writing assignment that I had no interest in doing. My Snickers candy bar that I got from the vending machine on my way to class was literally the only thing giving me life at that point. For some reason my energy always hit an all-time low when it was almost time to go home. All around me I heard the whispers of my classmates. They were all chatting about what they were doing this weekend.
Everyone has had at least one enlightening class that they’ll never forget. A class that, unlike so many others, truly teaches you about life, or in my case, mortality. Mr. Vindetti was my English teacher in junior high: a worldly and highly perceptive individual who expected the absolute best from his students. Junior high school is a blur, so I barely remember what I was taught throughout the years, but I still recall numerous lessons from Mr. Vindetti clearly. One day, after my grueling math class and my absurdly uninteresting history class, it was finally time for the one class I genuinely enjoyed, Advanced English.
The Outsiders Sequel When I turned in my essay, my English teacher looked at my work in surprise. He flipped through my 7 pages of writing, and then set it on his desk. He said I could leave for the day, and that he would grade it as soon as he could. It was almost four o’clock, and Darry would kill me if I didn’t come home by four thirty. He didn’t want anything to happen to me again.
This puts innocent bystanders at risk and causes tourists to avoid the area where the intoxicated person is, which hurts the local businesses because they are not bringing in customers. Squeegeeing, once a major cause of annoyance for New Yorkers and tourists was largely taken care of with the implementation of Broken Windows Policing. In the 1980’s, Rudy Guiliani, New York City’s Mayor fought against aggressive panhandlers, such as squeegee men. The squeegee men would disrupt traffic by going out into the streets when cars were stopped at a red light and
So that was kind of how the daily routine went for all of elementary. Every day after school we sat down together and worked on the school work that would always be giving me trouble whether it was a spelling test or some math homework. Most conversations went like “Your brother Erik can do it just fine, why can't you?” or “Everyone else in class understands this just fine, so that means you aren’t trying enough.” Eventually things started to click it started slowly at first like “Wow Isaac you did ok on this spelling bee.” my mother would say or “You did most of this homework by yourself?” I gradually became independent enough to do work on my own and only with occasional help from my mother or Erik my brother. Finally about the time I started middle school my mother's expectations didn’t go lower it was that I was able to meet them easier. So now when it seems like my mom doesn't expect much it’s because we share the same expectations for me to be responsible and successful and it's not something that needs a constant reminder or outside help, because they match my own
His father died and times were very tough for his family. His mother had to take in Borders so they had enough money. When George was older he promised his mother that he would work hard in school, get a good job, and take care of her. In school George was one of the smartest students in his class, he was especially good at math. In his spare time he would read books about photography.
His doubts of my seriousness student were palpable, and there due to my minimal oral participation in the class. Though I understood where he was coming from, I saw myself as more of a reticent but engaged student, completely capable of wrestling with a course like AP US. He agreed to let me take the entrance test after weeks of constant inquiry. After a month of waiting I received an email say that I had been accepted into the class. When I ecstatically approached him the next day and questioned him about the test, he said that I was ready for a class of a higher level and that mine was one of the best essays overall.
Mom and Dad were with me as we waited for my teacher to come to the office to retrieve me. When she arrived, she was kind and asked me to follow her back to her classroom. I said goodbye to Mom and Dad and followed my new teacher, the timid anticipation bubbling up inside me again. The room was empty because the other kids were finishing up their recess so my teacher, Mrs. Jaeger, introduced me to the morning work that the class did every morning. I was working on that when the students started walking into the classroom.
I went from geometry straight to Pre Calculus skipping Algebra II. I knew coming into this class that it would be unbelievable hard. Every person in my class that signed up to skip a year of math had a personal talk with the teacher who told us that he does not recommend anyone to skip any year of a subject, especially math. To take Pre Calculus as a Junior we were required to take Math Tutorial, a class that was solely devoted to helping us with the difficult math. I knew I wanted to take this class, I have been particularly good up until now at math and I believed I had the skill and knowledge to take and pass this
Class get out your math homework and set it on your desk so we can grade it as soon as soon as we get back from lunch, then get in line.” My teacher explained So, I’m heading to my desk to grab out my paper, I opened my binder and searched through my unorganized folder and I start going through the hundreds of papers thrown into the folder. I’m as nervous as a mouse in a room full of cats because I can’t find my homework anywhere. Oh no! I thought I left my paper on the kitchen counter while I was trying to finish it last night. As soon as I got to the lunchroom I zoomed through the lunch line.
However, he is busier during the school year and has “to carve out time for family.” He says, “I was lucky for the opportunity to work with high school students and make an impact on their lives and have always enjoyed reading and writing.” Mr. West has learned many things, such as patience, from his students. He also has learned that grace must come to an end at some point, and that
My first day at Larchmont Charter School, I was eager to meet new friends and start out a new life. I met my ELA and History teacher her name was Ms. Lorena and my Math and Science teacher her name was Ms. Emily. It was our first back to school night at Larchmont Charter School and my parents and I were talking to my new teachers about me having trouble with math, I always had a hard time with math it seems that I know the answer but I’m to afraid to get the answer wrong. My dad also told my new teacher’s that when I always use to take a test my teacher always use to point to the correct answer and helped me cheat. And when my parents went to tell him that when Christopher is doing his homework he is having a time, he always