André Escarcega
09/02/22
You Can Actually Write
Literacy has always been a subject some consider to be either tormenting or full of wonder. Literacy, as a subject always carried some sort of meaning to me in many periods of my life, however the meaning was always quite inconsistent, one thing always remained clear to me throughout the years, and it happened sometime in the year 2018, middle school 7th grade. I had always been mildly more interested in writing than most of the other subjects in school, however times were not going well during the years of middle school, mostly due to everything constantly going wrong, and I was not exaclty most likable person at the time to begin with. With all of these unfortunate events, I began putting less effort into school work the more time passed. This also took its toll on my writing, which decreased in quality greatly due to the lack of motivation. My writing was considered exceptional by most of my teachers before middle school, however with the lack of motivation and such, my writing was considered lackluster and bare, which made the situation even worse, discouraging me from thinking I could improve.
During 7th grade, nothing improved much at all,everything remained similar to the previous year, except for one thing that changed. My English teacher had told me that it would be advisable for me to take some tutoring sessions for her class during lunch due to poor writing, which increasingly got worse with the more frustration and lack of motivation I mustered throughout the year. I felt embarrassed and ashamed that I needed tutoring since I had never needed tutoring for any classes I had had in previous years, and to make matters worse I was the only student in her tutoring class, which made me feel mildly worse, considering the state my writing was in. I was set to do an essay to practice and improve certain writing techniques, since there was no one there I felt no need to rush so I took my time and made a genuine attempt to make an acceptable essay. Once I had finished the essay I gave it to the teacher for revision, I was convinced I would just barely make a good essay, that the essay was poor but acceptable. To my surprise my teacher had told me the essay was very well written, and displayed all the techniques needed to make it acceptable, that moment made me think, I had realized I could do the work and do it well, I could do any of the work if I just put the effort and avoid all distractions and killers of motivation. However, another thing she had said inspired me all the more to write better, it was not much about the writing, but the fact that she had said that I was the only one that even bothered to go to tutoring. Apparently there had been many more students that had needed to go to tutoring, but they all ditched the class to go do whatever they wanted. That made me feel like I was capable of doing better because I gave an effort to do so, even though so many others did not even bother to do so.
After that moment I had decided to give a greater effort into my writing, and with that effort I made better use of more adequate words that display more originality and emotion that improves writing more than before.
There have not been many moments where literacy has greatly impacted my life, but that moment was one that impacted my writing for the better, where I would enjoy writing and give effort and time to it and attempt to make it the best possible. And to this day I still use those strategies and attempt to build more upon them as the years go by. Even if the difficulty of the writing you need to do increases, it does not mean your effort should decrease, because if it does it will take even more effort to get to the point you need to be in. Only like this will we be able to do what is needed to best all our writing assignments, no matter the obstacles.
Arian Garcia
28 August 2022
Once a quiet kid
When I was a young kid in elementary school, I would rarely speak, which made my parents and school decide to offer me help with a speech teacher, who changed my perspective on life. I was a small child who was just learning English. I didn't know how to speak, and I found it difficult to talk to other kids and start a small conversation with them. I was placed in a speech class, where a teacher would pull me out of class once a week to help me learn how to speak and pronounce words in baby steps. I now have a disability on my records of not being able to speak correctly or having problems speaking, which is quite stupid since my mom tells me I don’t shut my mouth in a joking matter.
It encouraged me to write a little about my life here and there after school or lunch time since I had no one to talk to.
I stopped going to speech class at the end of fifth grade since the book gave me a lot of practice with my handwriting and helped me comprehend the English vocabulary more. In sixth grade, I made a friend who reminded me that my speech teacher was to thank for the significant improvement in my social abilities. This friendship caused my mental health to rise.
I doubt I would have ever made friends if I hadn't done so. I don't believe I would have had the courage to make new friends in middle school or high school to maintain my social abilities if I had never made friends. Clearly my social and self esteem is high since I wear a Cheeto hoodie sometimes without people thinking of me as a weird person in high school.
Noah
9/10/2022
Reading is not everyone’s cup of tea, and at one point, it was not mine either. I enjoy reading because of my third grade teacher, Ms. Ramirez. My introduction to the Geronimo Stilton series was life changing, and the enjoyment of reading I felt after that has stayed with me since. This topic was interesting to write about as it let me go back to the experience that influenced my opinion on something so important.
Victor mata
In seventh grade my English teacher kept making rude remarks about my reading and about how I wrote. In the classroom nothing I did ever really felt good enough, but one day in the last nine weeks in class with the beige walls and the mite yellow tone lights, she changed my view on reading and writing.In seventh grade my English teacher kept
Literacy
In seventh grade my English teacher kept making rude remarks about my reading and about how I wrote. In the classroom nothing I did ever really felt good enough, but one day in the last nine weeks in class with the beige walls and the mite yellow tone lights, she changed my view on reading and writing.
making rude remarks about my reading and about
how I wrote. In the classroom nothing I did ever really felt good enough, but one day in the last nine weeks in class with the beige walls and the mite yellow tone lights, she changed my view on reading and writing.In seventh grade my English teacher kept makingIn seventh grade my English teacher kept making rude remarks about my reading and about
how I wrote. In the classroom nothing I did ever really felt good enough, but one day in the last nine weeks in class with the beige walls and the mite yellow tone lights, she changed my view on reading and writing.In seventh grade my English teacher kept making rude remarks about my reading and about
how I wrote. In the classroom nothing I did ever really felt good enough, but one day in the last nine weeks in class with the beige walls and the mite yellow tone lights, she changed my view on reading and writing. rude remarks about my reading and about
how I wrote. In the classroom nothing I did ever really felt good enough, but one day in the last nine weeks in class with the beige walls and the mite yellow tone lights, she changed my view on reading and writing.In seventh grade my English teacher kept making rude remarks about my reading and about
how I wrote. In the classroom nothing I did ever really felt good enough, but one day in the last nine weeks in class with the beige walls and the mite yellow tone lights, she changed my view on reading and writing.In seventh grade my English teacher kept making rude remarks about my reading and about
how I wrote. In the classroom nothing I did ever really felt good enough, but one day in the last nine weeks in class with the beige walls and the mite yellow tone lights, she changed my view on reading and writing.In seventh grade my English teacher kept making rude remarks about my reading and about
how I wrote. In the classroom nothing I did ever really felt good enough, but one day in the last nine weeks in class with the beige walls and the mite yellow tone lights, she changed my view on reading and writing.In seventh grade my English teacher kept making rude remarks about my reading and about
how I wrote. In the classroom nothing I did ever really felt good enough, but one day in the last nine weeks in class with the beige walls and the mite yellow tone lights, she changed my view on reading and writing.In seventh grade my English teacher kept making rude remarks about my reading and about
how I wrote. In the classroom nothing I did ever really felt good enough, but one day in the last nine weeks in class with the beige walls and the mite yellow tone lights, she changed my view on reading and writing.In seventh grade my English teacher kept making rude remarks about my reading and about
how I wrote. In the classroom nothing I did ever really felt good enough, but one day in the last nine weeks in class with the beige walls and the mite yellow tone lights, she changed my view on reading and writing.In seventh grade my English teacher kept making rude remarks about my reading and about
how I wrote. In the classroom nothing I did ever really felt good enough, but one day in the last nine weeks in class with the beige walls and the mite yellow tone lights, she changed my view on reading and writing.In seventh grade my English teacher kept making rude remarks about my reading and about
how I wrote. In the classroom nothing I did ever really felt good enough, but one day in the last nine weeks in class with the beige walls and the mite yellow tone lights, she changed my view on reading and writing.In seventh grade my English teacher kept making rude remarks about my reading and about
how I wrote. In the classroom nothing I did ever really felt good enough, but one day in the last nine weeks in class with the beige walls and the mite yellow tone lights, she changed my view on reading and writing.In seventh grade my English teacher kept making rude remarks about my reading and about
how I wrote. In the classroom nothing I did ever really felt good enough, but one day in the last nine weeks in class with the beige walls and the mite yellow tone lights, she changed my view on reading and writing.seventh grade my English teacher kept making rude remarks about my reading and about
how I wrote. In the classroom nothing I did ever really felt good enough, but one day in the last nine weeks in class with the beige walls and the mite yellow tone lights, she changed my view on reading and writing.In seventh grade my English teacher kept making rude remarks about my reading and about how I wrote. In the classroom nothing I did ever really felt good enough, but one day in the last nine weeks in class with the beige walls and the mite yellow tone lights, she changed my view on reading and writing.In seventh grade my English teacher kept making rude remarks about my reading and about how I wrote. In the classroom nothing I did ever really felt good enough, but one day in the last nine weeks in class with the beige walls and the mite yellow tone lights, she changed my view on reading and writing. In seventh grade my English teacher kept making rude remarks about my reading and about
how I wrote. In the classroom nothing I did ever really felt good enough, but one day in the last nine weeks in class with the beige walls and the mite yellow tone lights, she changed my view on reading and writing.In seventh grade my English teacher kept making rude remarks about my reading and about how I wrote. In the classroom nothing I did ever really felt good enough, but one day in the last nine weeks in class with the beige walls and the mite yellow tone lights, she changed my view on reading and writing.In seventh grade my English teacher kept making rude remarks about my reading and about how I wrote. In the classroom nothing I did ever really felt good enough, but one day in the last nine weeks in class with the beige walls and the mite yellow tone lights, she changed my view on reading and writing.In seventh grade my English teacher kept making rude remarks about my reading and about how I wrote. In the classroom nothing I did ever really felt good enough, but one day in the last nine weeks in class with the beige walls and the mite yellow tone lights, she changed my view on reading and wr
Victor mata In seventh grade my English teacher kept making rude remarks about my reading and about how I wrote. In the classroom nothing I did ever really felt good enough, but one day in the last nine weeks in class with the beige walls and the mite yellow tone lights, she changed my view on reading and writing.
In seventh grade my English teacher kept making rude remarks about my reading and about how I wrote. In the classroom nothing I did ever really felt good enough, but one day in the last nine weeks in class with the beige walls and the mite yellow tone lights, she changed my view on reading and writing.
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