GRAF #20

      I recently took the time to sit back and look at the work I had done over this semester.  When the course first started my mind was full of creativity and stories of myself that I intended to share, but it had been years since I had even attempted to put one sentence down on paper.  My nerves were getting the best of me.  I was over thinking, and under writing.  As the course went on I grew faith in myself.  The scattered mess that had been in my brain for the past six years was finally bursting out of my fingertips.   Though I think I still need some work on my English skills, I’ve noticed an improvement in myself over the past three months.  I’ve noticed a better flow in my writing.  I know it isn’t perfect, but I feel more like a vinyl record with a few static spots, rather than a CD that skips in every song. I’ve succeeded the standards I held for myself.  The comments you (John Goldfine) provided on each paper gave me the strength to know my work is worthy of sharing.  I will continue to take the techniques I’ve learned and use them throughout the rest of my schooling.  I will let my hands blabber about until my mind catches something they drop.  I’ve truly enjoyed this course, I’ve truly enjoyed your feedback, and I truly wish this was the only class I had to take for the next 4 years.

Essay #10 [Make up timed essay:Effect]

     The fear that comes with public speaking is unlike any other fear to be experienced.  My nerves bundle into one giant ball and I wait for it to explode.  I can imagine myself bursting into a heap of blood and guts all forming the words I am supposed to say.  With that in mind, the effect that public speaking has on me is equal to the effect a bomb would have on any cartoon character.  My body language is fidgety, my speech is slurred or stuttered, and the overall discomfort I feel is a lasting effect, even when I have finished.

     Some people have a natural knack for speaking to the public.  Unlike them, the first effect it has on me is the uncontrollable urge to fidget.  I want to constantly move.  It may be a rock back and forth, as if I should be in a strait jacket conversing with my invisible friend.  The one that never fails me is playing with my hands.  When I was younger I used to keep them in my mouth. As time passed I learned it’s easier to speak if they aren’t blocking my words.  I play with my jewelry, hoping if I keep turning my ring I may lose a finger and attempt this humiliation another day.  I try holding my hands hostage with each other.  Somehow it turns into a battle, and I have to separate them to my sides.  No matter how I try, holding still while speaking to the public is not easily achieved.

     Another effect that speaking in public has on me is my speaking itself.  If I were to have a regular conversation, I would say I’m well-articulated.  Sure, I have a slight Maine accent, but I can speak without sounding like a complete redneck.  That all changes when I’m placed in front of a crowd. At first I stutter and skip my words.  My minds trying to control my body, so the concentration on what I should be saying is minimal. Then I just start talking really fast.  One sentence becomes part of another and before you know it I’m halfway through my speech. So now slow it down.  My Maine accent becomes so thick, you couldn’t cut it with a knife.  Its not until I reach my last sentence that my speech is clear and it’s the best-spoken sentence of the entire thing.

       The last effect I have is just overall discomfort.  I’m sweaty, I’m nervous, I’m fighting with myself.  My clothes are all of a sudden too tight or clinging in the wrong places.  I’m worrying about the crowd. Should I picture them naked?  Ew.  Maybe I don’t want to do that.  Even after I’ve spit out that last sentence of my torturing experience, the discomfort is still there.  I know what my downfalls are, I can be sure everyone else saw them too. It’s a feeling that can’t be fixed until I’ve left the vicinity, and am only left with my own judgment.

     I have to admit, it’s been a while since I’ve had to speak publically.  I would have thought that after working in the public for 8 years the effect would have subsided.  I also figured being a bartender would help.  Speaking with strangers on a daily basis should be considered good practice for public speaking, especially when the majority of them are asshole.  However, I still find myself playing with my hands, or tossing a rag around.  The only sentence that I can speak well is “Can I get you a drink?” Let me not forget the discomfort of building up the courage for the initial “Hello.”  The effects are relentless, but I’m hoping by the time I have achieved my future career of teaching, I will have the skills to speak with grace.

Essay #9 [Timed Process]

     The connection that is possible between a dog and its owner is incredible.  I have never loved an animal so much.  I have a pit bull rotti mix, named Seven, and she holds my heart.  She listens, she snuggles, she cheers me up when I’m feeling low.  When I was on my way to pick her out of a litter of puppies, I had no idea she would become so dear to me.  The process of choosing her, and knowing she would be a good dog however was obvious to me.  When looking at a litter of puppies I first look at what colors and size they are.  Then I watch how they act.  Lastly I see how they interact with me.

     The first step in picking out my puppy was choosing one I liked the looks of.  Of course all puppies are cute.  If I had the choice I would have taken the entire batch home.  I walked into the apartment that I was buying my new baby from and saw the mess of puppies spread out in the living room.  Most of them were just plain brown.  I wanted one that was unique.  I noticed the smallest puppy first.  She had little fat rolls on her butt.  Her face was colored in a tan mask, and her chest in a vest of the same color. Her eyes were hazel while the others were that dog eye brown as I call it.  She was only 8 weeks old, but her colors made her look like an old woman.  I instantly drew my attention to her.  The first step was done and I moved on to the next.

     The second step in choosing a puppy was watching how they acted.  The rebellious ones were pouncing on the other puppies, and chewing on their own tails. Adorable yes, but I assumed it would take a lot more training.  Some were more interested in people, bouncing between me and the woman who owned them.  The runty, old looking puppy I chose sat under the couch with her face barely sticking out.  She observed the other dogs.  She didn’t care to partake in the playing, but seemed content in her place.  Watching her eyes just shift back and forth and her little pink nose twitch as she watched all the action pulled my heart strings.  This had to be my puppy.  So I move on to the last step of choosing my puppy.

     The last step in my process was seeing how she would interact with me.  She wasn’t much of a social butterfly among the other puppies.  She also wasn’t one that rushed up to greet me.  Yet she drew my attention in the first two steps, so I leaned down to her level.  She glanced at me, and then went back to viewing the other pups.  I beckoned her with kissy noises.  “Come here baby girl.  It’s okay.”  She slowly emerged from under the couch, approaching with caution.  I placed my hand on her head and pet her.  She instantly showed a sign of relief.  She looked up at me as I continued petting her.  That moment pulled those last strings, and I knew this would be my new family member.

      After I finished my process of picking Seven out, I took her home.  She rode on my lap the entire way, and a bond was formed which will last until the very last day we will have together.  Now that she’s grown, her coloring doesn’t make her look old.  She is more interactive with other dogs and people, but doesn’t mind sitting back and observing either.  She is by my side all times when she is with me.  Rather it’s fighting over space on the couch, or taking a swim in the summer, she’s right there.  I couldn’t have picked out a better dog than my sweet Seven.

Essay #8 Revised [Effect]

“You selfish, ignorant pig!” This man was supposed to be honest, and loyal to me.  This was a few years ago now, but at the time I had felt us slipping apart for months.  I never thought he was going to stoop to such a low level.  We were almost to our 3 year anniversary, and he had been making plans, as well as other things, with another woman while I was working my ass off every day.  He had cheated, and didn’t have the guts to just say it.  I packed my things never to look back again.  However, the effect of his dishonesty was a struggle for me to overcome.  He effected my ability to trust, my bank account, and how I would plan my future.

When I was younger I always had a trust in people.  They then had the choice to either break it or keep it.  It wasn’t until I was put through the challenge of being cheated on when my ability to trust was effected.   He always preached honesty to me, but after months of this abnormal feeling I found the proof to my biggest worry.  A private message showed me I wasn’t his only girl. He failed to practice what he preached.  For many months, years even I was unable to have trust in people.  I always had doubt in people.  To this day I still keep my guard up.  The slightest gestures or words can still put me on the defense.  Gaining my trust is a challenge, but I’m thankful for the few people who have earned it.  I like to think my chances of getting hurt again are now slim to none.

Before I moved out, but after I gained my suspicions of the cheating, I had decided to quit my job.  I was hoping to spend more time with my boyfriend and work on us.  However it didn’t work out that way.  After I had quit my job I used what was left in my bank account to make him happy.  He was a raging alcoholic and I thought if I was to keep him I should support his habit.  Booze made him happy, so if I provided it I could be part of that happiness.  This effected my bank account greatly.  I had spent months saving up.  I only had 1500 dollars saved, but it took me a long time to get there.  Before I knew it I was running low.  After a month of being jobless, and spending over 1000 dollars, I had enough.  Where I live finding a new job isn’t an easy task.  I gave up trying to buy his love, and worked on earning my own.

Lastly, he effected how I was going to plan my future.  At the time, he was my future.  I had planned on living with him, working until I was ready to go back to school, and eventually getting married and being together until he most likely killed himself by drinking too much. Or ya know, we lived happily ever after.  After I moved out I had no place to go but back to my parents.  I didn’t know what to do.  How was I supposed to just pick myself up after being treated so horrible?  I had forgotten and lost the person that I was.  I spent probably three months wandering around aimlessly in my head.  Then one day I woke up and it was clear.  I was moping over someone useless.  I was finally able to better myself without worrying about this man holding me back.  I got another job, I made new friends, and life finally was better.  This was probably the most positive effect he could have done.

Looking back I can see that his actions were negative.  No one deserves the pain of seeing the person you love be with another.  The initial effect it had one me wasn’t good, but it lead to something great.  I now know who to give my trust to.  I have been saving money, and spending it more cautiously.  My future isn’t based around someone else.  His cheating lead to my success for finding a new job that I love, having money for emergencies and a little fun, finding a trustworthy man, and starting college again.  Not everyone can be so lucky to get so much good out of a bad experience.  I’m proud to say I’m one of the few.

Essay #8 [Effect]

“You selfish, ignorant pig!” This man was supposed to be honest, and loyal to me.  This was 6 years ago now, but at the time I had felt us slipping apart for months.  I never thought he would stoop to such a low level.  We were almost to our 3 year mark, and he had been making plans, as well as other things, with another woman while I was working my ass off every day.  He cheated, and didn’t have the guts to just say it.  I packed my things never to look back again.  However, the effect of his dishonesty was a struggle for me to overcome.  He effected my ability to trust, my bank account, and how I would plan my future.

I always had a trust in people.  They then had the choice to either break it or keep it.  After I had started a new full time job, an old friend of my now ex’s came along.  We got along great and before I knew it I had a new friend.  Little did I know that while I was at work, they were busy rekindling their lost “friendship”.  Before I knew it I could see a change my him.  He was less attentive to me.  When the three of us would hang out I was the third wheel.  Finally, I had enough of fighting for his love.  It wasn’t until after I moved out that this man grew some balls and told me that they had been planning to be together for a while.  His lack of earlier communication caused me to lose all trust in not just him, but people in general.  Even now, I keep up my guard until someone can show me they are trust worthy.

Before I moved out, but after I gained my suspicions, I had decided to quit my job.  I was hoping to spend more time with him and work on us.  However it didn’t work out that way.  After I had quit my job I used what was left in my bank account to make him happy.  He was a raging alcoholic and I thought if I was to keep him I should support his habit.  Booze made him happy, so if I provided it I could be part of that happiness.  This effected my bank account greatly.  I had spent months saving up.  I only had 1500 dollars saved, but it took me a long time to get there.  Before I knew it I was running low.  After a month of being jobless, and spending over 1000 out of that 1500, I had enough.  Where I live finding a new job isn’t an easy task.  I gave up trying to buy his love, and worked on earning my own.

Lastly, he effected how I was going to plan my future.  At the time, he was my future.  I had planned on living with him, working until I was ready to go back to school, and eventually getting married and being together until he most likely killed himself by drinking too much. Or ya know, we lived happily ever after.  After I moved out I had no place to go but back to my parents.  I didn’t know what to do.  How was I supposed to just pick myself up after being treated so horrible?  I had forgotten and lost the person that I was.  I spent probably three months wandering around aimlessly in my head.  Then one day I woke up and it was clear.  I was moping over someone useless.  I was finally able to better myself without worrying about this man holding me back.  I got another job, I made new friends, and life finally was better.  This was probably the most positive thing he could have done.

Though at the time his actions effected me negatively, it’s an experience that makes me a better person today.  I am a lot more cautious when it comes to trusting people.  I’ve learned that if someone needs my money to be happy, they aren’t worth it.  I’ve also learned that only I should effect my future.  It’s good to say I’m heading towards a bright one.

Essay #7 [Process]

Smack, smack, smack.  Click.  Ten more minutes.  The sound of an alarm clock is the worst thing that could ever happen to my ears.  It makes me cringe.  So, as you can imagine, I am not a morning person.  It takes a lot before I get out of the morning funk.  I also have a specific process I go through to get past that morning rage.  My fussing and swearing at the clock,  my caffeine and cigarettes, then finally some breakfast brings me around to the happy person I am throughout the rest of the day. 

The first step in my process is battling the alarm clock.  The snooze button is my best friend.  I must hit that thing about 5 times before I drag myself out of bed. Each time I’m woken up by that irritating beep I have unfriendly words for the clock. 9.a.m. “shut up” 9:10 “Piss Off” 9:20 “ASSHOLE” 9:30 “OH FUCK YOU!! I’M GETTING UP!” Then I throw a fit in my blankets.  My legs start flailing forcing the blankets onto the floor, while my arms toss every pillow away from my head.  Damn that irritating clock.  It’s better I take it out on the clock then any poor person who dare cross my path when first waking up.

My next step isn't a healthy one, but I don’t think I could function without my caffeine and nicotine.  After I shower and get dolled up for my day I head to the nearest convenient store.  Yeah I could make coffee, but I like my Monster Java Irish blend.  It’s got enough caffeine to keep me awake all day, and it tastes sweet.  Once I crack open that can I light a cigarette.  Not sure why, but even artificial coffee goes great with a cigarette.  That first breath of chemicals is an instant gratification.  At this point I've forgotten all about the alarm clock, and my brain is finally functioning like a normal human being.

Last thing I need to complete the morning routine is food.  I guess I couldn't call my first meal of the day breakfast, it’s more brunch.  By the time I've finished abusing the clock and had my morning addictions it’s almost noon.  Most people eat their food first, but it upsets my stomach if I go from waking up directly to eating. Luckily breakfast foods are delicious at any time of the day.  I cook myself up two eggs, over easy, and two pieces of toast which I load with butter.  I like to smash the eggs up and dip my toast in the yoke. Of course once I’m full I go back to my step two of the morning process, but now I can get on with my day and no one has to worry about me being as grumpy as I was when I started.

Now I’m ready to handle the rest of my day.  Rather I have to work, or am just relaxing, I wouldn't be able to do either without my morning process.  Maybe someday I’ll be a morning person.  Maybe I’ll finally decide to quit smoking and stop depending on caffeine.  Maybe I’ll even put breakfast first.  Until that happens this is my daily agenda, and I’m sticking to it.

Process Intro

Smack, smack, smack.  Click.  Ten more minutes.  The sound of an alarm clock is the worst thing that could ever happen to my ears.  It makes me cringe.  So, as you can imagine, I am not a morning person.  It takes a lot before I get out of the morning funk.  I also have a specific process I go through to get past that morning rage.  My fussing and swearing at the clock,  my caffeine and cigarettes, then finally some breakfast brings me around to the happy person I am throughout the rest of the day.  

Essay #6 [Timed effect essay]

It’s the first snow fall of the year and I’m thinking about how much the rest of the winter is going to suck.  Winter roads are one of my biggest challenges.  Just getting out of the driveway is hard enough as it is, but once my tires tread onto what used to be dry tar, the effect it has on me lasts until the final snowflake melts.  It has an effect on the way I drive, my anxiety level, and it effects my paycheck.  None of which I enjoy.

The road I travel often is already hard enough to ride on during the other seasons. The turns, the hills, the bumps, and pot holes.  Once snow and ice are added onto it, it only gets worst.  I have studded tires which are a big help on the traction, but when the snowflakes are dropping my speed limit NEVER goes past 20 miles an hour.  I become more cautious.  My hands are gipped tight at 10 and 2.  My head faces straight forward.  I observe my surroundings by only shifting my eyes.  With white covering the road, the only way to make sure I stay on it are the tracks from a vehicle that traveled before me.  My only hope for survival is hoping they stayed on the road.

Anxiety is nothing new to me when I’m driving, but add the dangers of snow and ice and it rises to a level where I should probably me medicated.  On each turn there’s a slight jerk which for a millisecond causes me to think I’m going to lose all control.  Driving my small little 1996 Geo in the winter is not an easy task.  I can feel my heart pounding the second I open the door to get into my car.  It seems like I take one breath every five minutes.  My brain goes through every horrid scenario that could happen while I’m driving.  I could slide into a snow bank.  What if I slide through the stop sign and get hit by an 18 wheeler.  Someone else could lose control and hit me.  The possibilities are endless.  Once I get to my destination and take that deep breathe of relief, my body returns to normal.

Lastly, when the roads are real bad, its going to effect my paycheck.  It’s not that I have a long way to travel, but that ten miles seems like an endless road trip.  Usually work is slow in the winter anyway, so some days I luck out and I’m not needed.  Other times I prefer to just find someone that lives closer who will work.  Giving up a shift that makes up a third of my paycheck isn’t an enjoyable thing either way.   However, I’d rather have less money in my check then risk having an accident or even my life.  $7.50 an hour is not worth the anxiety, nor putting along the treacherous winter roads.

Sure, I’ve lived in Maine all my life, and have been driving through the winters for 8 years now.  It’s just something I will never get used to.  Perhaps I’m a bit over worried about it, but every year when that snow flies the roads are my first thought.  For three months out of the year I will drive like an old lady on a Sunday ride, have anxiety while doing so, and miss out on making a bit of money.  I don’t think the effects the roads have one me will ever change.

Essay #5 [Example Essay]

Women who say they are daddy’s little girl usually are implying their spoiled.  Rather it is financially or emotionally, their dads are there to catch them before they fall.  My dad always let the fall happen, and showed me to be strong and handle it myself.  He taught me things, not just did them for me.  There are three things that he’s instilled in me, though not completely on purpose; it’s obvious I got them from my dad.  For example; I learned that swearing, though harsh, releases stress, duct tape fixes almost everything, and even if you’re wrong, if you argue like you’re right you eventually might win.

We call it “The Bickford Temper”.  I’ve seen my dad thrash things around, and swear at inanimate objects for years.  In fact, just this week he’s been trying to fix a leak in the roof from the inside.  For the past three mornings I’ve awoken to some banging and clanging in the attic above my bedroom followed by the words “God damn asshole!”  Then I hear a power tool, a heavy sigh, and another round of yelling curse words.  This goes on for an hour before finally it’s fixed.  After all that stress and aggravation has been released with the colorful language, he can relax.  I usually do the same thing.  You wouldn’t even want to know the words I spit just while trying to write an essay.  But, it gets me through the process.

Who needs a hammer and nails when the great invention of Duct tape exists.  Not my dad.  I’m surprised he didn’t just patch up the roof with it to be honest.  One of the many things he has used duct tape for is fixing my car.  In front of my tire is a plastic piece.  I’m not sure what it’s for, but I know that it cam detached and made an awful grinding sound whenever I turned the wheel.  So after I cussed out that damn piece of plastic I ask my father for help.  Out comes the Duct tape.  I think he used an entire role just to make sure that it wouldn’t get lose, and gosh oh golly it worked.  Now a year later, that duct tape is still holding.  I find myself using duct tape for many easy fixes.

Last, but not least, is the stubbornness.  If you talk loud enough about the point you are trying to make, eventually the other party will back down.  The majority of the time my father is just talking out of his ass.  I think most people just give up on trying to talk with him.  I can clearly remember having a heated discussion between us about what kind of lights should go on the Christmas tree.  He wanted the old fashion ones.  The ones that have huge bulbs, are all different colors, and are 10 times more likely to start a fire.  I of course wanted the tiny bulbs that you can set to blink, and are just white so they make the garland sparkle.  Well, he put his swearing into use.  “Those god damn bulbs are useless, and hurt my eyes, and too expensive etc.”  My only response was “So what! I want these ones. The big bulbs are ugly!”  Needless to say, I was unprepared for this fight.  The big bulbs went up.  However, over the years I’ve found that I gained his skill of backing the other person down.

I’ll admit I didn’t get many of my Dad’s traits, but I’m glad to say I got something from him.  To some it might not seem like much, or even be the best qualities for a person to have, but I use these tactics often.  They can’t solve all my problems, but it’s the first solution I try.  I can keep calm, fix things on my own, and stand up for myself, and it’s all thanks to my dad.

Example Essay Intro

Women who say they are daddy’s little girl usually are implying their spoiled.  Rather it is financially or emotionally, their dads are there to catch them before they fall.  My dad always let the fall happen, and showed me to be strong and handle it myself.  He taught me things, not just did them for me.  There are three things that he’s instilled in me, though not completely on purpose; it’s obvious I got them from my dad.  I learned that swearing, though harsh, releases stress, duct tape fixes everything, and even if you’re wrong, if you argue like you’re right you eventually might win.

GRAF #19 [Reaction to Timed Essay]

The timed essay was a challenge for me.  Not in the sense of writing it, but finding the time to do it.  I know; it’s only an hour out of my measly day.  However, I work all weekend. I start Friday at 10:00 a.m. and don’t stop until Monday at 10:00 p.m.   I usually put my efforts in during the week days, and it’s been easier knowing ahead of time what I have due.  Finding out the topic, and what kind of essay I had to write on a Friday and then having it due the following Monday was a task.  Luckily, I downed an energy drink, put a batch of cheesecake in the oven, and while I was waiting for the one hour timer to go off for that, I wrote.  And hopefully I wrote well.  I think I did the best effort I could do, but I was unsure if I understood correctly the idea of writing a contrast essay about something dirty and disgusting.  If i did, then I'm pleased with my piece, if not, then i'm still pleased with it, I just didn't have the right idea.

Essay #4 Timed Contrast

                Growing up I always had a list of chores. It’s something I figured most parents taught their children.  Knowing how to do the chores stuck with me, but doing them isn’t always a priority.  For years I had considered myself a messy person when it comes to house cleaning.  But then I experienced walking through the most disgusting house I think could ever exist.  I looked like a cleaning freak compared to this trash pit.  The difference of my mess in the kitchen, living room, and bathrooms was astonishing.

                If you walk into my house the first thing you see is the kitchen.  I usually have a small pile of dishes from the day, maybe even the night before, sitting in the sink.  The first layer of grime and grease is rinsed off but they still need a good wash.  The counter has some spilled sugar from missing my coffee cup.  The table has some mail and a few papers strewn.  The floor is a bit dusty, but the big bits of dirt have been swept.  Not too bad compared to the sight I walked into.  The first step through the door is a rancid stench.  Like dead, rotting carcasses were used as air fresheners.  The sink and counter tops are loaded with dishes.  The majority of them still had enough food for a meal.  Nothing you’d want to eat of course, unless you enjoy a layer of green slimy mold on top of your spaghetti.  The floors are sticky and stained from what you can tell are numerous spills nobody bothered to pick up.  The Table is now the new trash bag because the actual trash is overflowing.  I’d rather eat off my dusty floors then eat anywhere or off anything in that kitchen.

                Next is the living room.  It’s a public place.  Some where you can sit with company and visit, or relax and watch TV.  I’ll admit, if you sit on my couch, chances are you’ll stand up and be covered in cat or dog fur.  There are a few chew toys lying in the middle of everything.  I pile my shoes at the end of the couch.  The TV has a layer of dust, because I never think to clean it.  It’s presentable, even fresh I would say compared to the war zone I experienced.  I actually had to look hard for the couch.  I saw more garbage, books, toys, and just plain junk in general.  It was a towering heap of useless things.  The dust on the TV was so thick I thought it was a black and white TV show!  All I could smell was an odor of cat piss with a hint of clean linen scented Febreeze, which possibly just made it worse.   I didn’t even dare lean against the wall let alone try and find space for me on the couch.  The worst that could happen after leaving my living room is that you might have to use a lint roller, at least you won’t need a chemical shower.

                Lastly, the bathroom, a place used mostly to get clean. You brush your teeth, you shower, you shave, etc.  For me the bathroom is the hardest to keep up with.  There’s hair dye stains on the floor.  Q-tips around the trash can from missing when I try to throw them in.  I have toothpaste and floss strewn all over the place.  The shower has a few of my long black hairs stuck on the floor of it.  It’s enough to still feel clean when you walk out of it, unlike the hazardous area I saw.  The sink was covered in powder from make ups.  Piles of hair from shaving, and I mean PILES! I would guess an entire year’s worth!  Tooth paste stains and chunks all over the counter top.  The shower even had a glossy layer of slime.  And worst of all, something floating in the toilet.  Needless to say I held it until I got home. 

                After seeing all of those things, I gave myself a pat on the back.  I’m pretty sure my health was being jeopardized just by looking at those ungodly sites, let alone inhaling the smells.  I am no longer ashamed of the dirty dish in my sink, the fur ball on the couch, or the water streak on my bathroom mirror.  Seeing that mess also taught me to tidy up when I can.  Who knows, if you let things go uncleaned too long, you may end up with a shit storm like that.  Let it be a lesson to everyone, that those pesky chores, they really aren’t that bad.

                

annotated source list

Jasper, Kathleen. "Types of Technology Used in the Classroom." EHow. Demand Media, 21 Sept. 2009 <http://www.ehow.com/about_5437063_types-technology-used-classroom.html>.

I had a basic of idea of what kind of technologies could be found in a classroom these days, but this cite helped verify the ones I did know, and then showed me some new technologies I didn’t know about.

"Where Will the Jobs for College Graduates Be in 2018?" Private Student Loans and College Loans. N.p., 20 June 2011 <http://www.overturemarketplace.com/where-will-the-jobs-for-college-graduates-be-in-2018>.

I wasn’t sure what the job opportunity for teachers would be.  I know in my town a lot of programs are getting cut and talk of school consolidation is at large.  Of course, I don’t plan on being a teacher for my home town.  This cite showed me that the need for teachers is only going to grow.

Oak, Manali. "Impact of Technology on Education." Buzzle.com. Buzzle.com, 20 Mar. 2012 <http://www.buzzle.com/articles/impact-of-technology-on-education.html>.

This cite showed some all the ways technology has impacted education.  The ways it has cut time, made learning easier, and how accessible it is.

Essay #3 Contrast Essay

         For me a pet just isn't an animal.  You don’t just get one to have something cute in your house.  You get one because you want to take care of it.  They are are a part of your family.  Five years ago I decided to take on the responsibility of raising two dogs at once. They were just over the 8 week mark when I picked them up. Originally I had only planned on getting one, I was lucky to only get out with two.  I had the urge to grab up the entire litter of 8.  They were a litter of Pit Bull, Rottweiler mix.  Not purposefully, I chose the Brute of the litter, and the runt.  Already a difference in them.  Who would have known that the differences would only show more with time.  Their personalities, their looks, and their life experiences are what make each puppy their own selves.

         Some say a dog is what you make it, but I think animals initially have their own set personalities. When I arrived at the house where I was expecting to only buy one puppy I was attentive to the mannerisms these cute balls of fur already had instilled. Pelta was the first to run up to me with her tail wagging and her tongue ready to give those little puppy kisses. She was bigger than the rest.  Seven was more hesitant and hid behind the leg of a couch. She was unsure what to think of this large person making kissy noises at her. Pelta became the leader of the two. She's the first to get in the garbage, the first to greet visitors, and the first to climb in bed, even before me. The word “No” isn't always in her list of words to listen to. Seven's always a step behind watching her. She looks for my approval before joining her sister. Luckily this meant she never gained the habit of dumpster diving. She listens well, and always lets me get comfortable in bed before she hops up and climbs under the covers. They definitely set each other apart, but both gained my love.

      When it comes to their looks, they couldn't be more different.  Pelta has simple coloring. Her body is a light tan with highlights of darker shades running through her. Around her eyes and nose is black. Her eyes are a deep brown. She also has a black birthmark on her tongue. When she was just a puppy she was chubby and wrinkly.  People used to think she was part Shar Pei.  She grew into her body though, and her block head and slimming figure shows the Pit bull in her.  Seven is a grayish brown. Her face is tan and patterned so that she has a widows peek. Her chest is tan too so it looks like she's wearing a vest. Her eyes are hazel with brown specks. I’d say she’s got the Rottweiler patterns, but her block head and body build is definitely pit bull.  She also has a black birthmark on her right leg.  If I wasn't there to pick them out from the same liter, I would never have known they are sisters.

         What life experiences can a dog really have?  Well, my two girls have been through a lot.  When they were 6 months old they ran off in the woods.  The snow was 8 feet high and they were small enough that they could glide on the top thin layer of ice.  It took us 2 days to find them.  This was just the beginning for them.

         I think I jinxed Seven when I gave her the name.  It was only a matter of weeks after she returned home from the woods that she was then hit by a car.  Her femur was broken, and luckily it was repairable.  That didn't stop her, she still played and was happy.  Then a year later she tore the ligament in her knee.  While she was healing from that surgery, she tore the ligament in her other knee.  My poor girl just can’t catch a break.  A year after that she had to have both legs re-operated on because they didn't heal right.  It all never stopped her. She runs, she swims, she jumps.  I consider her my child and I've taken care of her through every painful experience she’s had. 

         Pelta’s tragedies were less of the physical state.  I unfortunately had to move back in with my parents and was unable to keep her.  She was given to a good home though, and lived just down the road from me so the girls could keep their sisterly bond.  But After a year of her being in her new home the family was getting distracted.  They were keeping her in the basement all hours of the day.  She was growing restless and losing her sweet personality.  I finally took her back and searched for a new home.  She then went to a young couple.  They were people who could give her their full attention.  It was the loving home she needed.  Again, a year passed, the young couple had a baby.  Who has time for a dog with a new baby?   I got her back again.  I was becoming furious with the situation.  I couldn't keep her and no one else wanted her.  Finally, I found a good friend who had land for Pelta to run free on, kids who were old enough that they didn't need full attention, and Pelta would be played with every day.  She’s been in that home for 2 years now, and I’m so thankful it stuck.  Both girls have been through a lot in their 5 years, each with their own story.

         Both girls mean the world to me.  Not being able to keep Pelta was definitely something that always weighed heavy on my heart.  I know she’s happy and taken care of though.  As for Seven, she’s my little butt monkey.  She is by my side every day.  Rather she’s got her head out the car window when we go for a ride, or she’s curled up next to me hogging my bed.  I had a great time raising both girls at once even though it was a challenge.  Someday, I might even do it again if I could be lucky enough to find another two pups as loving, loyal, and personable as Pelta and Seven.

GRAF #18 [isearch Progress]

Usually I set aside some time each night I don’t work to get some of the research done. I have three days a week dedicated to school.  I haven’t done that over the past couple weeks.  I’ve been working on the weekly assignments and my other classes.  However, I started my isearch work as soon as it was assigned and think I got ahead enough in the beginning that I’m right on schedule now.   As far as my questions that can be found by researching online, I have atleast a graf for each one.  I’m still waiting to hear more from some teachers before I can complete the questions I have for that, but I think things are going smoothly.

Contrast Intros and graf 2

Intro 1

Five years ago I made the mistake of getting two puppies at once. One was a responsibility in itself, but two! What in the world was I thinking? They’re from the same litter, but the differences are impeccable. One is the brute. Her name is Pelta, which is Latin for Shield. The other is the runt. I named her Seven for my favorite number and for luck. Their personalities, markings, and life experiences are what made each puppy their own selves.

Inrto 2

For me a pet just isn’t an animal.  You don’t just get one to have something cute in your house.  You get one because you want to take care of it.  I once decided to take on the responsibility of raising two dogs at once.  They were just over the 8 week mark when I picked them out..  Originally I had only planned on getting one,  I was lucky to only get out with two.  I had the urge to grab up the entire litter of 8.  Ironically I chose the Brute of the liter, and the runt.  Already a difference in them.  Who would have known that the differences would only show more with time.  Their personalities, their coloring, and their life experiences are what make each puppy their own selves.

Graf 2?

Some say a dog is what you make it, but I think animals initially have their own set personalities. When I arrived at the house where I was expecting to only buy one puppy I was attentive to the mannerisms these cute balls of fur already had instilled. Pelta was the first to run up to me with her tail wagging and her tongue ready to give those little puppy kisses. She was bigger than the rest.  Seven was more hesitant and hid behind the leg of a couch. She was unsure what to think of this large person making kissy noises at her. Pelta became the leader of the two. She's the first to get in the garbage, the first to greet visitors, and the first to climb in bed, even before me. The word “No” isn't always in her list of words to listen to. Seven's always a step behind watching her. She looks for my approval before joining her sister. Luckily this meant she never gained the habit of dumpster diving. She listens well, and always lets me get comfortable in bed before she hops up and climbs under the covers. They definitely set each other apart, but both gained my love.

Essay #2 [Classification]

        Walking into a bar you can usually see all kinds of people. Sports fans, artists, teachers, tall people, short people, black, white, Hispanic, shy people, loud and obnoxious people. When it comes to where I bartend I don't have the pleasure of meeting such a variety. Except for loud and obnoxious, there's plenty of that. My bar sits in a small “mill town” where boys grow up to drive skidders, and forget about hygiene, while the women are mainly there for breeding. My bar is 1 out of 2 in the town, and it's in 1 of the 3 Chinese restaurants within a 1 mile radius. When I'm standing behind my bar waiting for the next customer to approach I already know what kind of people I am going to see. The women are cougars, the men are pigs, and the couples that walk in can be compared to a house cat. All are around the same age, (to be nice I'll simply say they are older than me), and each group has their own agenda.

        Most know that cougars are older woman looking to relive their youth. You can find them on the arm of any young man. Or at least her eyes are attached to one. I can tell when one walks in. Their eyes are shifty and their nose in the air as if they are searching and sniffing out their pray. There's a swing in their hips as if they are setting the bait. They laugh loud to draw attention, and frequently use the bathroom to strut their stuff on each trip. Their first sentence is usually “Where's all the good men around here?” Which they don't really care about “good”, and to be honest I don't know the answer. I hand them their fruity lady drink and move onto the next customer.

        When people think of pigs, most would say they are dirty animals who feed on slop. This goes for most the men that walk into my bar. They're still dirty from a day’s work, or sometimes are just plain dirty, and are looking for a piece of meat. I don't mean food, I mean any pretty little thing that walks by. “Hey sexy mama” spurts out from their thick grizzly beard that covers their mouth so you can't tell they only have 3 teeth in that nitwit skull. But hey, they have a wad of 50s in their pocket, perhaps that remark should be excused. I hand them their beer, resisting to show them an eye roll, and put my smile on the next customer.

        The domestic house cats are friendly and playful. These couples walk in and offer a caring smile. They flirt, they tease, they have humor, but they never cross the line. These customers are my favorite. Sometimes I sit back and watch them. Occasionally they'll be the kind to rub upon someone’s leg for a bit of attention, but always make their way back to the one they are with. They are all comfortable, and have an aura of power. They know they are worth my time and kindness. They know they are the favorites. They never take advantage. They are simply just out to have fun. They each stick to their routine. “The usual please” and I know what it is.

        I'll admit that once in a blue moon we will get some out-of-towners that fall out of these categories. Occasionally I get to see the well groomed man with manners. A hard working woman whose agenda is still work even if she is trying to relax with a drink. Groups of families gathering for a reunion and ready to raise a little hell. For me, it's nice to see a different type and get a break from the regulars. No matter what though, all these people are what make my job enjoyable. Rather I like it or not each one has become a part of my life.

Classification In and Outros Revised

INTRO

Most bartenders would expect to see many different types of people. They can usually see customers that are different races, different ages. Some that have tattoos and piercings. Others that are a bit plain looking. Some might look like bitches, or assholes. Some of course are. There's a complete variety out there. When it comes to where I bar-tend, it's a complete turn around. When I'm standing behind the bar, I see the same three types day in and day out. I see cougars, pigs, and domestic house cats. All around similar ages even. All with their own agenda.

OUTRO

I'll admit that once in a blue moon we will get some out-of-towners that fall out of these categories. Occasionally I get to see the well groomed man with manners. A hard working woman who's agenda is still work even if she is trying to relax with a drink. Groups of families gathering for a reunion and ready to raise a little hell. For me, it's nice to see a different type and get a break from the regulars. No matter what though, all these people are what make my job enjoyable. Rather I like it or not each one has become a part of my life.

Classification Outro

       These are the kind of people you will see at either of the two bars in my town. I'll admit that once in a blue moon we will get some out-of-towners that fall out of these categories, but usually this is it. Being a bartender, I try to distribute my good service equally. I smile, I'm friendly, and I do my best to give equal attention. Sometimes I wish I could ignore, or walk away from some of the people. I know I can't and I don't. So, rather I have to smile and bear it, or am truly enjoying it, all these people have become a part of my life. They are what makes going to work worth it.

GRAF #17 [Reaction to Remarks]

“Sure, there are clearly three reasons laid out and enough detail to float those middle grafs. I'll take it.”

Knowing eventually I was going to have to write a reaction graf to this, I was thinking there was going to be an email or something with more to it. I guess this is it. At first I read it as if there was some chipperness to it. But the more I keep reading this sentence, I’m starting to wonder if it's just saying I’m meeting the bare minimum. There's no “This part was good” and “This part needs work” I think I was, or am expecting more feedback. At the same time I’m aware of  how busy you are. So I guess I'm not really sure what my reaction should be. Should I be enthused and know I did a good job, or should I be concerned and perhaps do some editing?

Classification Intros

Intro 1

Walking into a bar you can usually see all kinds of people. Sports fans, artists, teachers, tall people, short people, black, white, Hispanic, shy people, loud and obnoxious people. Well, when you work in a small town bar we don't have the pleasure of seeing such a variety. We have the usual’s. Same ol' people that walk through our doors every week, sometimes everyday. This will consist of Cougars, Pigs, and The Domestic house cats

Intro 2

If I go out of town for a drink I expect to see many different types of people. The bartenders are male and female. The Customers are different races, different ages. Some have tattoos and piercings. Others are a bit plain looking. Some look like bitches, or assholes. Some of course usually are. There's a complete variety out there. If I go for a drink in my home town, it's a complete turn around. All female bartenders for a start. As for the customers, well I see the same three types day in and day out. You've got the Cougars, the Pigs, and the Domestic house cats.

GRAF #16 [Reaction to classification]

       The humor that was put into all three classification essays is a true inspiration. I'm not sure if it was on purpose, but all three had spots that made me laugh. The first one was the opening sentence. Incredible how she took a saying and turned it into literal types of men. The second one was the creative titles she came up with for each type of sports fan. The last because who would be so clever as to classify fish! I'm thinking to myself that humor is the way to go. Being a bartender I see all kinds of people walking into my work, and the majority are indeed funny. Funny looking, funny acting, or just plain old funny. I'm going to dig deep into my experiences and produce something that is as worth reading as these essays were. At least I'm hoping.

GRAF #15 [Meta-graf]

         I was having a conversation with my boyfriend about how this class was going and that the cause essay was my next big assignment. Jokingly I told him I was going to write it about how awful he was and why women shouldn’t date a guy like him. Truth is he's one of the nicest and considerate men I have met and any woman would be lucky to have him. I thought I would share our story of how we met. I Wrote 3 intros and the entire essay, then after reading the comments I changed my mind. Turns out our story isn't as easily transformed into a cause essay as I thought. Though I think I also misinterpreted what a cause essay was. Regardless, I didn't want to rewrite new graphs because I don't think I could do it.

         Then I was at work, bored and waiting for customers, and wishing I had brought my laptop to do some work. Then I moved onto thinking I need to attempt a different topic for my cause essay. Then I was stressing about how hard that was going to be. Then I was stressing about how I might fail again. Then I remembered, oh yeah. I've already failed once. I know the cause for my failure. I can definitely write about that. It's worth an attempt.

        Poof! There's my cause essay.

Essay #1 Cause essay

          “I'm the first one!!!” I bragged about it through the hallways. In the main entrance, on the big bulletin board, I was the first name out of all the seniors in my class to be accepted to college. I was full of pride. High School wasn't the place for me, so working hard and graduating a semester early was a big accomplishment! I thought I was ready for bigger and better things, so only three days after graduating I packed my bags and shipped off to college. What 17 year old doesn't think they can take on their world no matter how unprepared they are? Looking back I see it was no surprised I failed. I had moved to fast, didn't put in the time to work hard, and partying of course was a huge factor!

Graduating on a Friday and starting college on the next Monday was not the best idea. Most high school graduates have a 3 month summer where they have an opportunity to adjust from being in high school to being a college student. It's an opportunity to experience the real world before being thrown into it. A chance to plan their future instead of playing it by ear. I had 3 days. On day one I received my congratulations, on day two I said my goodbyes, and on day 3 I said hello to my new life. I wish I had taken the time to adjust. I feel I would have succeeded.

Next were the courses. I took 4 on campus and one online. The 4 on campus were a distraction in itself from my class that was online, but also I was in a whole new place. I was making new friends and living in a city! I was no longer in a small town where a night of fun required a 45 minute drive. My life was in my hands, and I wanted to live it! I think it was during the 4^th week of the semester that I knew I was slacking. I even tried giving the bare minimum, but with everything around me I couldn’t even succeed at that.

Who can forget those college parties. I was never a drinker, or even much of a social bird in high school, but college was a whole new story. The people were so kind and accepting. I don’t recall meeting one person that I didn't get along with. Drinking games were bringing us all together. The beer pong, Up and down the river, and once everyone was drunk enough we took a step back into our past and played spin the bottle. Being social and tipping back some beers became my new priority. I didn't need to pass my classes, I had a plethora of new friends! I wish I would have had the skills to priorities my responsibilities, then perhaps I wouldn't have failed.

Here I am almost 7 years later finally ready. Though I have many moments where I think 'I could be graduated already and have a career' I wouldn't trade my experience for anything. I learned through my failure that I was someone who needed to gain some maturity before putting anymore money and time (or lack there of) into my education. I have attempted college a few times between then and now, but I've never truly felt ready. Some people are blessed with the natural gift of being stern with themselves and getting school done as soon as possible, I however was someone who had to wait. I had to gain a stability in my life, and a confidence in myself. Now I know how to handle multiple responsibilities and I'm happy to say school is one of them. This time, I will succeed!

GRAF #14 [Research Plan]

I started researching for my isearch the day we had to choose a topic. I've found my questions and now to find the answers. Some I've just searched online. Some of the answers can be found on the generic sites, but I'm looking beyond the simple answers. I'm thinking the more I research the more sub questions I can think of. Also over the past couple of weeks I've emailed teachers the questions I designed for them. They have been helpful as to already have answered them, and they are continuing to pass them along so I wont be at a shortage of answers and opinions. There are also a few questions that I can only answer. I'm slowly getting an idea the more I read, and the more I hear from teachers.  

Isearch What I Know

What I already Know

To be honest I don't know much about my topic. I know it's hard work, but can also be fun. It requires commitment and a knack for children. It requires patience, and knowledge. I know that not all teachers are the same. I know that not all children are the same. I know I want be a teacher. I know education, technologies, and techniques have changed even since I was in school 6 years ago. 

 I do know that technology plays a huge part in the classroom. When I was a secretary for a schools administrative office I spent my days entering assessment scores, so I know tests are important, though not sure why really. I know I don't want to teach history or math. I know that from watching my mother teach throughout my entire life that it takes a big heart, and a lot of time to give equal attentiveness to all students. Also that each student is worth a teachers time.  I also know that right now a lot of teachers are readying to retire, so more teaching jobs will be coming available.

However, when it comes to the majority of my questions I simply just don't know the entire answers.

Cause Essay Outro

Here I am almost 7 years later finally ready. Though I have many moments where I think 'I could be graduated already and have a career' I wouldn't trade my experience for anything. I learned through my failure that I was someone who needed to gain some maturity before putting anymore money and time (or lack there of) into my education. I have attempted college a few times between then and now, but I've never truly felt ready. Some people are blessed with the natural gift of being stern with themselves and getting school done as soon as possible, I however was someone who had to wait. I had to gain a stability in my life, and a confidence in myself. Now I know how to handle multiple responsibilities and I'm happy to say school is one of them. This time, I will succeed!

Cause essay Intros revised.

I decided to change my subject.

Intro 1

I was on top of the world. 17 and already accepted into a college. I was ready to get a start on my future. I graduated a semester early, and three days after my last day in high school I moved into the dorms at Southern Maine Community College. I felt like such an adult. I had a full course schedule and was ready to give my all. Or so I thought. It turned out I took on more than I thought and I failed. My failure can be put into three reasons why. Partying, no study tactics, and in all its simplicity I just plain old jumped the gun and had moved too fast.

Intro 2

“I'm the first one!!!” I bragged about it through the hallways. In the main entrance, on the big bulletin board, I was the first name out of all the seniors in my class to be accepted to college. I was full of pride. High School wasn't the place for me, so working hard and graduating a semester early was a big accomplishment! I thought I was ready for bigger and better things, so only three days after graduating I packed my bags and shipped off to college. What 17 year old doesn't think they can take on their world no matter how unprepared they are? Looking back I see it was no surprised I failed. I had moved to fast, didn't put in the time to work hard, and partying of course was a huge factor!

Cause Essay Intros

    Intro 1

I never knew it was possible to connect with someone so easily and quick. It was two and a half years ago now, but I remember him walking through the doors of my house. My first thought was “Who is this scrawny kid with the glasses and why is he in my house!?” Within the first hour he became my friend, and by the end of the night he became my husband.

Intro 2 

I never thought I would utter the words “we're getting married” Then again, I didn't mean it so literal. My boyfriend is someone who means the world to me. From the day we met I labeled him my husband. For some reason he plays along and calls me his wife. Our relationship bloomed from strangers to friends to an incredible relationship within one night.

Combination of 1 and 2 creating intro 3

I never thought I would utter the words “we're getting married” Then again, I didn't mean it so literal. It was two and a half years ago now, but I remember it as if it was yesterday.  From the day we met I labeled him my husband. For some reason he plays along and calls me his wife.  Our relationship bloomed from strangers to friends to an incredible relationship within one night.

Graf #13 [Reaction to Cause Essays]

I read the first too example cause essays. The first one about love, and how it ends was well written and detailed, but I couldn't help but think “what a crazy women”. One because of the story of her own faults, but two for being so courageous as to share such an intimate example of failing at love. I'm not sure if I could find such a strong part in me to want to share something like that with anyone but myself and my closest friends. The second story I could relate with. I took dance when I was younger, and was a frequent quitter. In fact I never made it to my first dance recital. But her writing made me smile. This kind of writing that's personable, and gives the reader something to relate to is what I'd like to be able to do. I think to some degree I can already accomplish it, but I need to work on it more. The third essay I didn't bother reading for two reasons. One being I don't care for baseball, or sports in general. The other being the set up. No breaks, no graphs, just on big bundle of words and just glancing at it gave me a headache.

Graf #12 [Revised Place]

Every year on memorial weekend I take that ride down the dirt road. The grass is turning to a bright healthy green and the trees are full after a harsh winters strip. The second I open my car door and step out I take a deep breathe and smile. That first moment is always what I remember most. It's like there's diamonds floating on top of the water. The sun beams down from the east. The sky a bright blue with a few cotton ball clouds. The water is calm with only the reflection of trees to be seen. The sound of loon calls echo across the lake. The air is crisp and fresh. I look forward to this every year. It's like my own little sanctuary. There's no worries, no cares. For 3 months of the year, this is my home, and every year I wish It would never end. Unfortunately, once the first day of September hits, we lock the doors, and I wait impatiently for the next year when I can reopen, and experience the serenity again.

GRAF # 12 [Place]

It's like there's diamonds floating on top of the water. The sun beams down from the east. The sky a bright blue with a few cotton ball clouds. The water is calm with only the reflection of trees to be seen. The sound of loon calls echo across the lake. The air is crisp and fresh. Every summer this is what I wake up to. I have had the pleasure of enjoying these things at my camp for 24 years now. Every year it only gets better.

GRAF #11 [research history]

The pain was excruciating! All I did was cough and I was on my knees, hunched over the couch, and tears pouring from my eyes. I had managed to throw my back out. I was 22 at the time. I didn't know that someone my age could even have this kind of problem. It took me 30 minutes to crawl from the couch to the bedroom which was only a mere 5 feet away. With each inch forward the pain spiked. I didn’t know what had happened, I didn't know how to fix it. I was in a panic. I learned the hard way that my bed had no back support, Flexeril is a mighty good relaxant (though it gave me weird dreams), and the cortisone shot was my best friend. Finally after five days of torture I could walk again. To this day I still have pain, and luckily it can be fixed with a few ibuprofen. I also know to rest on a flat surface before it gets too bad.

GRAF #10 [Person]

Have you ever met that type of person? The kind that have 5 teeth, two of which are rotted, an accent so thick you cant tell if it's from Maine, or the deep south, and a voice that seems to boom through an entire restaurant because they have no “inside voice”. Yet, they have more money in their pocket then I have in my life savings. These are the kind of men that walk into my bar. They have a sleazy sense of humor. Apparently I, a young and beautiful 24 year old, just love hearing sexual remarks because I'm forced to smile while I hand them a beer! I should be impressed that these sleaze bags can spend 50 dollars on mixed drinks while harassing me the entire time only to leave a two dollar tip. Telling me they have a bottle of whiskey and plenty of beer really persuades me to go party it up with these men that are twice my age. How could I forget that I'm a bartender!? That must mean I drink and party all the time with ANYONE who wants to offer. Those kind of men should think twice before opening their mouth to any woman. After my last incident where one of these men attempted to put their tip down my shirt as if I was a stripper, I've found my patience is gone and next time one of these men wont be so lucky to receive just a slap on the hand. Self dignity and respect comes before me trying to please some male chauvinistic pig for the hopes of making some money to put gas in my car.

isearch why

It’s taken my 24 years to finally decide what I want to be when I “grow up”. So as I’m working towards my future as a teacher there are some questions I need answered. I want to be at least slightly prepared for what I'm going into. As far as my questions go there will be some I can do with simple internet research, some that I will be asking directly to teacher, and some that I will have to answer myself when my researching is done. I'm hoping this will not only help prepare me, but will also help me chose a subject and grade level to teach when my studies are done.

• What is No Child Left Behind?

• How big a part does technology play in education now?

• What technologies are used in today's classroom?

• Will there be jobs available when I am done my schooling (hopefully by the year 2018)?
  
  
• How do teachers today think education has changed over the past decade?
• Where do teachers think education is going?
• What are some techniques teachers use today to keep students interested and motivated in their classroom?
• How do teachers meet the needs of all their students?
• What grade levels and subjects have asked teachers taught?
• Which grade levels and subjects have asked teachers enjoyed the most?
• Which subjects would be most interesting to teach?
  
  
• How can I make a classroom fun and effective?
• How can teaching be interesting and fun for me?

isearch background

Throughout my life my mother has been my biggest influence to go into teaching. I never realized it until the past year though. I’ve seen her treat all her students with kindness. I’ve heard words of praise from all of her students, even the ones she had thirty years ago. She’s been an inspiration to me to be a kind, tolerant, and loyal person. I feel like I’ve grown into a person that has the drive to put everything she has taught me into a career.

When I was nineteen I started a job as an administrative secretary at a local school district. That was when I got a chance to do some substitute teaching. I have to admit that being a substitute is nothing like being the real teacher that does it every day, but as far as the students go I really enjoyed myself.

One experience I had was with kindergartners. We did an in class assignment where they had a piece of paper with 4 circles. I would say “lets pick up the blue crayon and color any one of those circles” once they were done I did the same with red, green, and yellow. All the kids were smiling and coloring hard. There was one young girl that was having a hard time and burst into tears. I walked over and told her it’s okay I’m here to help. I showed her the color and explained again she could color any circle she wanted to. She wiped her tears and continued to work.

I also got to experience teaching high school students at the vocational school. This was too boring for me. The teacher left a note “They know what to work on.” So I sat and twiddled my thumbs for hours on end. This helped me make the decision to NOT teach high school level. As well as the stacks of paperwork I've continuously seen on their desks over the years.

This brings me to now. I’ve narrowed it down that I would like to teach somewhere between the grades of 4^th and 8^th. I have no idea what subject I’d like to teach, I don’t know how much time will pass before I can even start teaching. I have very little knowledge of the career I’ve finally chosen. I just know I want to be able to impact lives the way I’ve seen my mother do.

GRAF #9 [Object]

 There’s a bracelet I wear. It’s a tennis bracelet made of pink ribbons and pink diamonds between each link. Others just see it as another supporter for the fight against breast cancer. Just by looking you wouldn’t know what real significance that bracelet holds.

I was too young to remember when it happened, but my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. She was lucky enough to have survived it with a mastectomy. I have a faint memory of being in her room at the hospital after she had woken up from her surgery. I don’t recall any questions or concerns. I just knew she was okay and we had a long car ride home. For a few years after I don’t think I ever really knew that it was cancer she had. I just knew one breast was missing and I never wondered why.

It wasn’t until I was in my early teens that my aunt had gotten cancer for the second time and I realized how scary it was and how lucky my mother was. My aunt’s cancer had been in remission but after years of being cancer free it came back hard. It ended up being in her bones. Unfortunately my last memory of her is sitting outside the room while she was on her last breathe. But I’m grateful to have so many good memories of her.

I used to stay at her house on the weekends. If it was raining we would stay inside and watch t.v. When the sun was out we ran in the fields of long grass around her house. She had a muddy pond all us nieces and nephews were too scared to jump into, yet once we pushed one another in we would swim all day. She would wake me up for scrambled eggs at breakfast before I would be her little helper when mending the horses. Before bed we would rock on her porch swing while she told a story that always ended with laughter. Thankfully not a lot of memories involve her being sick. I recall her having no hair, but by the smile on her face you’d never know she was ill.

After learning my mother had cancer, and that my aunts life was taken by it you can imagine that I have a big fear it will be passed down to me. The bracelet isn’t only a symbol for my support of the survivors and those less fortunate, it’s a symbol of hoping that if my day comes, I will survive too.  

GRAF #8 [reaction to isearch]

 I read and skimmed through a few of the past isearch papers. I noticed there were a lot about building things and the others having to do with children. (Neither of which I know much about) Topics aside, I like how people put their own personal stories into their knowledge of their topics. Then I started thinking if I would be able to do the same. I started to doubt myself for the facts that I don't have much knowledge about teaching, and my lack of certainty of what I plan on teaching. But after searching through my own personal thoughts, I decided I have enough to make this isearch personal and as well as fact full.

GRAF #7 [isearch brainstorm]

It didn’t take much brain storming time to choose my topic for the isearch.

So now, I’ve decided to sit down and brain storm more questions/ideas that would make this more interesting and self involving rather then be all “researchy” questions.

Some questions for me to figure out:

How many years of school will I need before I can teach?

Which subjects would be most interesting to teach?

How can I make a classroom fun and effective?

How can teaching be interesting and fun for me?

Will there be jobs available when I am done my schooling?

Questions to ask teachers: (you, being the teacher)

How do you today think education has changed over the past decade?

Where do you think education is going?

What are some techniques you use today to keep students interested and motivated in your classroom?

How do you meet the needs of all your students?

What grade levels and subjects have you taught?

                Which grade levels and subjects have you enjoyed the most?

Some ways to interject myself into this paper:

My experience as a substitute teacher

Some learning techniques I used in school

My mother being a teacher

GRAF #6 [Unique]

I’m best known for my tattoos.  “The star girl” they say.   I have 9 nautical stars starting from my left front shoulder and ending at my cleavage on my left breast. They are of different sizes and slightly faded in spots and blown out in others. This is the result of being a new tattooist’s guinea pig. My other “well-known” tattoo is the word “VERITAS” meaning truth in Latin. The font is called “fairy” and the letters kind of blend together.  I have about 10 more, but none of which people can see without me revealing some skin.  My hair is dyed jet black with 6 inch roots of dark brown.  I haven’t cut it in 2 years so it’s about 5 inches away from my tailbone.  I usually have my bangs pulled back away from my face.  I have deep blue eyes that most people confuse for grey or sometimes brown.  My eyelashes are so long that occasionally I need to trim them or my eyelids get too heavy.   I have a scar above my lip on the right side from when I had my Monroe pierced. It never healed correctly so I had to let it fill in. I have two more scars on the left of my lower lip for the same reason.   Behind my lips is a smile that took 4 years of braces to create.  Though some of my lower teeth have sense shifted I still take pride in my years of patience and maintaining.  On my left ring finger is a 10 dollar ring that gives the perception that I’m married, but it’s mainly used to tone down the horny bastards that walk into my work on the nights I bartend.   I can be a bit of a pushover.  I have a heart that’s forgiving.  I make myself available to people who need an ear to talk to or a set of arms to wrap around them.  I have a sinnical and sarcastic sense of humor.   These things are what make me unique and everyone that knows me will most likely say the same.

GRAF #5 [Reaction to isearch brainstorm]

When I hear the word brainstorming my mind automatically goes to "The web.”  Throughout school they teach you to pick your main idea and put it in a bubble, then have lines and more bubbles hanging off that bubble, which are filled with more ideas about your original idea.  It sounded messy.  It looked messy.  It never worked for me. The brainstorming example you show seems to be useful. It's making the process easier.  Being able to choose anything to write about instead of being told is already making things a breeze. Though I have less things to think about then in the example, I’m finding just the technique of starting with a bunch of things (even some that are just mumbo jumbo), and then narrowing it down into an actual topic with ideas is working.  I will be using this not just for my isearch but for all the assignments.

isearch worksheet

What do you want to write about?  Education/Teaching

What do you want to find out about your topic?  How has teaching changed since I was in school and where is it heading.  Is teaching really what I want to do.

What are your questions about the topic?

1.  What’s taught in schools now that wasn’t taught when I was in school?

2. What is No Child Left Behind and its role in education?

3.  How big a part does technology play in education now?

4.  What skills will children need to learn in order to function in today’s society?

Subquestions?

1. How has No Child Left Behind changed teachers and teaching.

2. What are the best methods for teaching with today’s technologies?

3.  How do teachers today keep their students interested and motivated to learn?

How does the topic connect to your life?  Don't say 'curious' or 'interesting.'  Or don't stop there anyway...

I plan on becoming a teacher so learning about these things are important since it’s my career of choice.  Also my mother, as well as many other relatives and family friends, are teachers and I’m amazed at their knowledge and skill. They have such an influence on their students and have inspired me to follow in their steps.

Give three reasons you like the topic

1.  It’s information I should know if I’m going to become a teacher when I grow up.

2.  I want to be well prepared for the changes that will be expected of me

3.  So many people in my life that I love and admire are teachers.

Give three ways your life might change if you answer your questions

1.  It can help determine how far I want to go with my education

2.  It may help me decide what grade level and subject I want to teach

3. It may help decide if I’ll even want to be a teacher after learning the answers to my questions.