I took a journalism class for two years in high school and my teacher was a journalist herself, so at times I feel as if I have a good handle on writing. However, sometimes I do not know what to write or how to write it and I am always nervous that my writing will come off as amateurish. When I get that feeling, I become insecure about everything I put on paper. I hope to one day get over that fear or insecurity and be able to just write what comes to
I did not know how to react, a mini panic attack was occurring inside my head. Since I was thirteen, I did not know much about cancer. All I knew was that people could die from it. My dad, my hero, was now fighting for his life. I wondered how long my parents had hid this from me. Even though I had many questions, I only asked, "What did the doctors say and when will he come home?" My mom replied, "It will take him some time to recover." I could not feel my body, though I started to shiver. I started to cry while my mom held me tight.
I sat quietly in my AP Lang class as my teacher, Mrs. Fisher, announced that the reading competition between the language arts classes called for the book count for September. She stood at the board, marker in hand, staring out expectantly at her large class. Hands shot up across the classroom, and my own nervous hand rose up to join them. Mrs. Fisher happily chalked up the small fortune of books that our class had read. Practically everyone read one or two books, and then there was the occasional student who 'd managed to thumb through five or six. I was one of the last to be called on.
Risks can be something huge to overtake that leave you paralyzed with fear. But often smaller risks are overlooked even though they have the potential to change your life. The best risk I have ever taken in my life is a seemingly small one in the grand scheme of things, but I know at the time it seemed a monumental task, but if I had never gotten the courage to take that risk my life would probably be drastically different today.
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.
Academically, I have taken eight college level courses and have been enrolled in mostly honors class since my freshmen year of highschool. However, I have always feel like there are numerous areas I need improvement on. One aspect I want to improve on is my writing skills. Throughout my entire highschool career, I have gotten comments that my essays contained awkward wording, confusing sentences, and poor grammar. Going forward I want to improve on my writing and have the essays read nicely. I also hope to become a more eloquent speaker and sound very educated but relatable when I speak. Additionally academically, I am looking to read more thought provoking texts, and to engage in more interesting discussions. The discussions with my peers
“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?"
When I registered for English 111, I held the personal belief that the whole process of proper writing restrained and suppressed the cleverness and inventiveness of story-telling. I pondered the question, “Is it possible for me to write a proper essay that can satisfy my inner story-teller and fulfill all the requirements of a college level paper. Immediately, my unease was addressed with our class’s opening assignment a reflection essay that requested me to write about what I thought were the weaknesses and strengths of my writing abilities . In addition, I was asked to discuss my personal writing goals and what I hoped to improve on throughout the semester. My unease, preconceptions, and insecurities about learning and using writing processes and techniques were disclosed, declared, and visible by the essay. Providentially, our
As it may be deduced from my response to this prompt, I am currently enrolled in an integrated Advanced Composition course. Through this introduction of my goals for this class, my future career, a description of what writing is to me, and a recent life lesson, I hope to reveal who I am as a writer and as an enthusiastic pupil.
Throughout the semester, I have been challenged with many different writing techniques that have helped to improve my writing. Over the past few weeks, I have attempted to incorporate these techniques into my essays, resulting in boosting my skills as a writer. The following will discuss my improvements as a writer, as well as the challenges I have faced this past semester.
Essay Prompt: Some students have a background; identity, interest or talent that is so meaningful they believe their application would be incomplete without it. If this sounds like you, then please share your story.
It’s a game where everyone puts their hands in the middle of the circle and someone yells one, two, three ninja and everyone pulls their hands back and place them where they want them. After that you take turns trying to hit someone hand below the elbow and if you hit their hand, then the person that got hit has to put that hand behind their back. When both hands are out, then their are out.
“Shut up, I got this!” he exclaimed. Liam, a pseudonym for the boy’s actual name, continued to yell and get angry. Liam was my partner for my first ever Team Building Tuesday (TBT) activity in my leadership class. The sole purpose of Team Building Tuesday was to help develop our interpersonal skills. The activity was called blind drawing. Liam and I volunteered to go first. To complete the activity, I would be taking directions from Liam to depict a certain image. Therefore, the image was shown only to him.
“Envision this Jeff, that you were watching a football game, then suddenly a book exploded,” said John Jeff’s best friend.
Waking up, she stretched out her legs to find a major charley horse forming throughout her entire calf. The long car ride completely wiped her out. What a great way to start her morning in this new town. There was also no coffee in this frigid, janky apartment she thought. As she argued with herself in her head, she tried to force those negative thoughts to the back of her mind. She stared aimlessly up at the popcorn ceiling, noticing there were a few cobwebs drifting here and there. Gross. But today she needed to find a job, to start a new life running from her old. Slowly thinking about what she had done, how was she supposed to live all by herself? Leaving everything behind was not a choice. She had to leave. Today marks a new journey in