Personal Narrative: My Shasta College

English class made me feel empty-headed and lost. I never knew what was going on, and I also began not to care; However, when I was placed into Ms. Hightower 's class, everything changed! She gave me confidence in myself, my abilities, and helped me uncover intelligence I never knew I had. My freshman year of high school created my hate for English. My freshman class full of 15-year old 's were forced to read and write essays about the constitution and politics we knew and understood nothing about: It was the most tedious and doltish idea in the world.

My grades were dropping faster than ever, and so was my self-esteem. I had detention all the time at the end of the year I had D’s and C’s in all of my core classes. Because of my poor grades my teachers decided to add more accommodations and wanted to be stricter on me the next

One more time, my advocacy teacher is Vietnamese, so I can ask him about the class and where is it. But, I need more time to figure out, so I was late in Math class, and I felt very embarrassment. Even though, I do not understand while my teach speaking, but, I am very confident in Math class. Two periods pass, it was lunchtime. We just sit down on the table without get line to pick up a meal.

I could not find a score anywhere! Frantically, I flipped the piece of paper, front and back, and saw nothing. Then, I decided to actually read the comments that Mrs. Guertin had left. I specifically remember one comment, that terrified me, saying, “Manuel, what happened?”. The following week, I ended up coming in early in order to redo the in-class essay due to the fact that I had failed to correctly answer the prompt.

Not to mention it was the middle of December and my schools heater was broken. My anxiousness for school to be over also probably had something to do with the fact that English is my least favorite subject. I didn’t really dislike English but I was never really good at it. For some reason, where to put a comma just doesn’t stick with me. 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.

I 'm gonna miss you so much." Even if you don 't believe it, that 's when my dream of becoming a writer ignited. Seventh grade was the year I met Mrs. Flores... I didn 't like her, or her class. For me English class meant complete boredom.

Literacy Autobiography I used to despise writing and reading classes when I was in elementary because I was a bilingual person. I hated everything about it, the rules of phonemes, the grammars, and the confusing definitions. Reading and writing was my enemies when I was growing up. Learning the English literacy somehow separated me from my own language. If you know anything about Yap, then you know that there are three languages that divide the state.

I wake up to do everything by myself, cook, clean, go to school, and especially homework. The workload from school kept getting harder each year, and it got worse during the start of high school. When I first arrived back from my first day of 9th grade I had to annotate a poem written by Shakespeare. As I sat down to do the homework I realized I didn 't know what annotating meant. I asked my parents for help and they didn’t even knew who Shakespeare was.

Standardized testing ugh. The absolute worst part of school.Testing is so dreadful because it’s time consuming, forget consuming it’s devouring, teachers and students don’t get the graded test back fast enough, and last but definitely not least students already have to study for classroom test weekly now you want to overload their brains! This why I am against standardize test. These test have a desire to devour classroom time and brain capacity. Class is already very tiring, think of adding hour long test.

Consequently, I received an awful grade on the rough draft of my entrance essay. Because of that, I knew that at the very least I needed to add more to my conclusion than a summary, even if it didn’t bring about a new, colossal idea. This was my first conclusion, and now that I look back, I can recognize that it could be boring to the reader (“Understanding Writing”