I’ve always wondered why people with a little or a lot of power tend to treat you unjustly. I’ve experienced many times when people with power treated me poorly. There were times in school with teachers, in school with principles and even out in public places. When I experienced these moments they made me feel like there were something wrong with me or I was different. Also, it made me feel like I was different from others… but not in a good way. I hate when people give me this certain video that I don’t belong.
Edgewood high school, 9th grade, it was my first period class when my teacher and my friend got into an argument. My teacher didn’t have any more patients for this student. Mostly everybody in class was finishing up on this study guide packet to help us on a test we were about to take. During class I showed my friend this paper I had. On my paper, it had poems on their which was dedicated to my aunt who had just passed away about a week ago. While she was looking at it my teacher came, snatched the paper, ripped it and threw it away. I understand that she had frustration with my friend, but she didn’t have to be disrespectful and rude. I could say “maybe she thought it
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Now at my last school I got into trouble. But it was just little stuff, nothing too major. I would think if you’re a principle, no matter how good or bad a student is you should still treat them with respect. At my old school, Edgewood high school my assistant principle always had this attitude with students. He was really rude with me. I would speak to him in the morning or just during the day and most of the time he doesn’t even speak back to me. When I tell him good morning or just a simple hi, how are you doing today he just will keep walking like I’m not even there and I don’t find that right. I find it to be very rude and disrespectful. Also, it kind of sucks because they teach us to not be rude and disrespectful, but they tend to do it
SOURCE: On Sunday, January 3, 2016 at approximately 1900 hours, I received a telephone call from Sgt. John Sanzone, who told me there was a drive by shooting that had just occurred. Sgt. Sanzone assigned me as the CSI lead on this case.
On my paper, it had poems on their which was dedicated to my aunt who had just passed away about a week ago. While she was looking at it my teacher came, snatched the paper, ripped it and threw it away. I understand that she had frustration with my friend, but she didn’t have to be disrespectful and rude. I could say “maybe she thought
My body cried like a newborn babe, afraid in an unfamiliar place. Immediately, my fresh eyes were greeted by waves of black hair, friendly smiles, and the Japanese language. I had arrived in Japan. I did not know the language or the customs, but I dove right into the dark pool. I was determined not to let the unknown drown me.
I step out of my Dad’s blue shiny Honda van as he says “good luck on your first day”. I force up a weak smile as I close the door and it made a whoosh noise as it closes. I look at the entrance for a good five minutes. I take a deep breath and slowly as a turtle, a zombie and snails. I thought to myself, a zombie and a snails.
Instead of hating bugs or spiders, I hated the outside as a child. Preferring to stay indoors, I spent my hours reading and drawing, dreading the moments my parents dragged me to a field to force sports down my throat. Basketball, soccer, volleyball; I tried all and loathed indiscriminately. Unfortunately, my father loved the outdoors, saving money for exotic vacations such as driving to the tip of Mexico instead of buying the latest iphone. Forced to go along with the rest of the family, I despised every minute of it.
I remember when I was going to start school. The school I went to was called Lincoln Elementary. It was just a short four streets down from my house. I was a little nervous and slightly scared to go. I didn’t want to have to leave home and be gone for so long.
“Four AP classes is a lot,” my parents warned, reading the list of courses I would take in the fall. “Are you sure you can manage that?" I felt fearless. “Of course,” I assured them. “I can handle it!”
I have grown as an academic student in college and career readiness, as displayed through my English 101 class. This was my third college class on the campus of Los Angeles Mission College, so I thought I was prepared and ready. Yet in my English 101 class I had to come up with my own prompts for my essays and merely came into class to listen to lectures on the basics of English. This was the first class that the teacher did not give me the rules on what to do for the assignment, I had to come up with it myself. Professor Diaz-Cooper did not hand out How-To papers or grading rubrics - she expected us to know and acquire all this information on our own.
Satisfied with my work, I did the finishing touches on my portfolio and soon after realized my last writing assignment of high school is tomorrow. Although I have been waiting for this day for many years, it was sad to think that all my work has come to an end for high school. Coming into this class I was frightened from all the work that was assigned and was just hoping to finish with a “B” because I had never been a strong writer; however, half way through the semester I had seen a significant improvement in my writing skills and it is possible to finish with an “A”. I believe the reason it improved so much is because I time managed way more than have in previous years; in fact, most essays I had to write were written the night before they were do and I would just meet the length requirement without revising or editing.
I never really enjoyed writing but I started coping with it when I entered high school. Before entering high school, it would be rare for me to get an essay in middle school. During my junior year that all changed. I started getting essays from left to right, it felt like a ferris wheel, a never ending cycle. During those times I started realizing what i needed to work on to get better grades.
Middle School to High School In middle school, one thing that I thought of high school is that it wouldn’t be much different than middle school. I was told a lot of bad things about high school, people saying “just wait until you get to high school, everything gets a lot worse” or “you think it’s hard now? Just wait.” When I was in middle school, I was told as well as thought that high school wouldn’t be any different than middle school except for it being harder academic wise.
One thing that occurred today during recess was a student spitting on another student. This reminded of something that I would tell my daughter when she was younger. I told her that if anyone hit her, she was to hit them back. Yes, I know BAD advice!
I wish I could go back to kindergarten. “The same boys who got detention in elementary school for beating the crap out of people are now rewarded for it. They call it football.” Laurie Halse Anderson. High school is a rough place like elementary with testosterone and steroids.
We all say that everyone is equal and that everybody should be treated the same no matter what, but only few people do that. Most people say that they treat everyone the same, but sometimes their actions do not show it. I had a teacher my junior year and she would kick kids out of her class and yell at the same kids almost every single day, and most of the time they were not the white kids. I remember one time she kicked this boy out of class.
It was a warm fall day, causing lots of restlessness in the classrooms of the High School. It’s almost 7:30 and the bell rings in just under a minute. All of the students in Ms. Mantee’s english class already want to leave and enjoy the warm weather. Unfortunately, class has just begun. Gloria Anzaldua, who is always late, stumbles into the class room with her sister who's just a grade below.