Peer reviewing is cool.
Okay, honestly I used to dislike peer reviewing in high school because I was that Lone-Lonely-Loner, but I've grown to appreciate it. My favorite part about peer reviewing is reading someones work and being able to complement her/him on it.
This was the first time I've had to read my paper out loud for a review, and even though it was annoying, I found it helpful. I was able to find spots where my sentences were awkward or too wordy by reading out loud.
Friday, September 23, 2011
Friday, September 16, 2011
"Me Talk Pretty One Day" Writing Assignment
1. Write a short essay that describes one specific experience where learning made you fearful.
Upon learning the rate at which my home-countries economy and social pedistile is falling, I wasn't so sure I wanted to be educated. At the moment in class when my teacher was describing how much debt the country is in, the amount of people below the poverty line, and how corrupt country is becoming, I felt a sense of defeat. The more the teacher spoke, the more ignorance looked blissful.
Growing up, the children of the United States are made to believe that they live in the best country in the world. We are taught to view the U.S. as the homeland of heroes and justice. Together we sing The National Anthem, America The Beautiful, and pledge allegiance to the country of the free. I'd love to stay in this proud state of mind, and ignore the fact that our nation is crumbling, and no better than any country that has battled us in wars. If I were to remain in ignorance, I wouldn't be burden with the fear that my loved home may someday not be as it is now. I would not have to think about the poverty I am likely to experience after college, or the fact that that other people are in poverty. The fact that people are still enslaved in our country wouldn't bother me nor would the fact that the United States owes China more than it may ever be able to pay. Fortunately I'm not ignorant. For from ignorance there would be no change, and this country is in desperate need of change.
At times, education can seem like a curse and a blessing. A curse for the lazy because it moves us from out comfortable beds in the darkness. It makes life a challenge in that we have to move. The blessings are obvious: education promotes awareness, understanding, growth, and change. Learning that it is necessary to fight for a better way of living against those try to suppress others into ignorance is frightening. at the same time the responsibility is exhilarating and brings a whole new understanding to the phrase "the children are the future".
Upon learning the rate at which my home-countries economy and social pedistile is falling, I wasn't so sure I wanted to be educated. At the moment in class when my teacher was describing how much debt the country is in, the amount of people below the poverty line, and how corrupt country is becoming, I felt a sense of defeat. The more the teacher spoke, the more ignorance looked blissful.
Growing up, the children of the United States are made to believe that they live in the best country in the world. We are taught to view the U.S. as the homeland of heroes and justice. Together we sing The National Anthem, America The Beautiful, and pledge allegiance to the country of the free. I'd love to stay in this proud state of mind, and ignore the fact that our nation is crumbling, and no better than any country that has battled us in wars. If I were to remain in ignorance, I wouldn't be burden with the fear that my loved home may someday not be as it is now. I would not have to think about the poverty I am likely to experience after college, or the fact that that other people are in poverty. The fact that people are still enslaved in our country wouldn't bother me nor would the fact that the United States owes China more than it may ever be able to pay. Fortunately I'm not ignorant. For from ignorance there would be no change, and this country is in desperate need of change.
At times, education can seem like a curse and a blessing. A curse for the lazy because it moves us from out comfortable beds in the darkness. It makes life a challenge in that we have to move. The blessings are obvious: education promotes awareness, understanding, growth, and change. Learning that it is necessary to fight for a better way of living against those try to suppress others into ignorance is frightening. at the same time the responsibility is exhilarating and brings a whole new understanding to the phrase "the children are the future".
"Why my mother can't speak English" Writing Assignment
1. Write a short narrative that describes your inability to learn a particular skill.
My white off brand sneakers made my feet look enormous in comparison to my small body. I hated my big baggy gym shorts, large Notre Dame fighting Irish t-shirt and the dirty yellow pinnie I had to wear over it. The sound of sneakers squeaking across the gymnasium floor was nauseating and I swear that orange and black ball was from the devil. The locker room was one of the worst places I have ever been to, in all of my 9 years in public schooling. Having to change out in the open, the smell of sweat, feet, sewage, and awful body spray contributed to my disgust. My hair always a mess, and my legs tired from chasing a ball. Reminiscing on all the the things I hated about the year before, I walked out of the girl's locker room and took my place before the coach. I was already planning not to land a spot on the eight grade girls basket ball team.
Over the summer I tried to convince myself that I liked basketball. I even spent hours outside practicing and went to a couple summer practices with my best friend. Through it all I just could not develop the passion the sport required in order to succeed. So annoyed I went, unwillingly to the tryouts. It was my dad who loved basketball and was forcing me to go. He made me try out for the team the year before, and I barely made the cut due to the fact that not enough people tried out for the team. The 8th grade tryouts were going two last 3 days. The first and second days were composed of basket ball drills, running suicides, and lay ups. All of which I successfully put in mediocre effort. The drills I had completely forgotten, and hardly made a true effort to get the ball from the opposing team. Yet, I put enough effort in that it didn't look like I was just standing on the court. At one point a girl went to pass the ball at me and I ducked instead of catching it. All the players laughed and moaned about my failure to catch the ball, but secretly I was proud of myself for my ducking skills. I let all of the other girls out run me in suicides, and never really tried to make a lay-up. I was bad at them anyways, so what was the point? Finally judgement day came around. All of the girls trying out were told to sit on the gymnasium floor, and the coaches would call the names of all the girls who made the team. Name after name after name was read off of a list of winners, until it came down to the last 2 spots. My heart pounded anxiously awaiting the coach to say my name, but she never did. That day the sting in my pride was merely a pinch due to my fear of my dad's disappointment, but all stinging and pinching was numbed out because of the fact that I was the real winner.
My white off brand sneakers made my feet look enormous in comparison to my small body. I hated my big baggy gym shorts, large Notre Dame fighting Irish t-shirt and the dirty yellow pinnie I had to wear over it. The sound of sneakers squeaking across the gymnasium floor was nauseating and I swear that orange and black ball was from the devil. The locker room was one of the worst places I have ever been to, in all of my 9 years in public schooling. Having to change out in the open, the smell of sweat, feet, sewage, and awful body spray contributed to my disgust. My hair always a mess, and my legs tired from chasing a ball. Reminiscing on all the the things I hated about the year before, I walked out of the girl's locker room and took my place before the coach. I was already planning not to land a spot on the eight grade girls basket ball team.
Over the summer I tried to convince myself that I liked basketball. I even spent hours outside practicing and went to a couple summer practices with my best friend. Through it all I just could not develop the passion the sport required in order to succeed. So annoyed I went, unwillingly to the tryouts. It was my dad who loved basketball and was forcing me to go. He made me try out for the team the year before, and I barely made the cut due to the fact that not enough people tried out for the team. The 8th grade tryouts were going two last 3 days. The first and second days were composed of basket ball drills, running suicides, and lay ups. All of which I successfully put in mediocre effort. The drills I had completely forgotten, and hardly made a true effort to get the ball from the opposing team. Yet, I put enough effort in that it didn't look like I was just standing on the court. At one point a girl went to pass the ball at me and I ducked instead of catching it. All the players laughed and moaned about my failure to catch the ball, but secretly I was proud of myself for my ducking skills. I let all of the other girls out run me in suicides, and never really tried to make a lay-up. I was bad at them anyways, so what was the point? Finally judgement day came around. All of the girls trying out were told to sit on the gymnasium floor, and the coaches would call the names of all the girls who made the team. Name after name after name was read off of a list of winners, until it came down to the last 2 spots. My heart pounded anxiously awaiting the coach to say my name, but she never did. That day the sting in my pride was merely a pinch due to my fear of my dad's disappointment, but all stinging and pinching was numbed out because of the fact that I was the real winner.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
First 100 word minimum post
Let's talk about college. While I do love the independence, student activities, and the broad range of studies on the educational spectrum, college is EXPENSIVE. At the most the money situation makes me wonder if this is all worth it. I mean my First Year Student class has a required $60 book. Really? What would you possibly have to quiz me on as a first year student. Okay, and as a first year student, I don't like being told that I NEED to spend my money on trivial books, that in the long run will most likely not affect my life. The whole situation has me irritated and I've already made the decision to not buy the book. Hopefully the University experience and education is worth the money that my hard working parents are putting into it. My dad went to the University of Michigan in 1996 and just finished paying off his student loans last year. This I'm not looking forward to, owing anyone money. But it is what it is, and I'm not really here for a better job. I just want the education. And still, at times I feel selfish towards my parents, and even myself for being here just for the education, because of it's cost. This place absorbs money that could have been used to pay off my parents debt, get a larger home, fix their cars, pay for my brothers' soccer, or even on a well deserved vacation.
What is the cost of education? Not specifically with money, but with time, effort, and even lives, across the world? How much, and what should one pay to be educated?
What is the cost of education? Not specifically with money, but with time, effort, and even lives, across the world? How much, and what should one pay to be educated?
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