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The role of community in child education
Importance of community and human development
Importance of community and human development
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Monett Elementary School Most of the memories that I remember as a younger student took place in Monett Elementary School. The environment of the school made me feel at liberty. Around the 2000’s was when I was first introduced to this school. One afternoon during an Open House I looked around and read posters that read “Go Cubs.” At the time I didn’t know if I was more nervous than excited. The classroom walls were purple and gold. My class had around 27 students enrolled. This was the average class size at the time. The first day of school came earlier than I anticipated. Summer vacation sadly soon came to an end. On the morning of August, I arrived to my school. The only thing visible that I was excited for, was the enormous playground
It was the first day of school for many in Maycomb, including myself. I had just moved from a college in Winston Country. Almost 30 years have past since that day in Maycomb when I first saw the school I was to be teaching at. The classroom smelt stale after being closed up for the whole summer, as I met my students who I would teach for the next year. The one child I remember most had a trail of dirty footprints leading to his desk. The little horror looked like he was straight from the pig pen.
I, Brianna Felgoise have made it through these long and eventful three years of middle school. Throughout these years i've learned a lot of things about myself that I did not know before. Looking back from the day I first walked through the doors to this building to now, just about time for me to walk out. So much has changed and I am realizing my growth both physically and mentally. Throughout this long journey I have found myself testing my limits and lengthening my boundaries. Much has been achieved. So far I am very proud.
Overall, my expectations for what Great Neck North would offer me were not even close to what would proceed in the future. The year was filled with joyous occasions, academic success, the acquirement of best friends, flirtatious encounters with the opposite sex, and most importantly leading the Great Neck North basketball team to its first playoff appearance. In essence, as I reminisce over my first year of public school, a framed photograph of my 8th grade basketball team has assisted me in reliving the wonderful experience I encountered throughout that time.... ... middle of paper ...
The monkey bars were hot from a long day in the sun, but my hands still grasped them with all my strength. It was finally Friday and that meant free time at the playground in Physical Education. All that could be seen were fifth graders swinging on the monkey bars, crawling under steps, climbing poles, and running here and there playing tag. Our jovialness could be sensed from a mile away with our broad smiles and loud laughs giving into how much we were enjoying ourselves.
The first day of school can be exciting and adventurous for many people, but for others it may be problematic. In “The First Day” by Edward P. Jones, the girl is having her first day of school by signing up. Her mother tries to sign up at Seaton Elementary School, nonetheless she was not accepted because she was from another district. Jones argues that although this may be an unremarkable first day of school for the girl, it allowed the girl to understand the struggles of placing her in a school because of her mother’s limitations in education. Edward P. Jones employs rhetorical techniques to convey his meaning and to appeal to the readers emotions.
During my four years at Martin County High School I feel that I have made a major impact on the school and most importantly, the community. I have dedicated most of my time helping my trainer with her volleyball technique class and teaching younger and sometimes older kids how to play volleyball. I have also spent my time helping my sick friend, Susie after she has had many surgeries. I enjoy helping out my community whenever and wherever it needs the help.
On Friday October 10, 2014 I visited MacAfee Elementary school. The Guide counselor Bonnie Kudwitt, who takes place of the principle when he’s not in the building; she took me and other classmate a trip to show us the whole school. The school was very small it held 400 students from PR-K through fourth grade; from inside it’s like a U shape with a tale. One side it had the third and fourth grade and the other side had PR-K, first and second and the tale it was the gym and the cafeteria. At 8:50 we waited outside the school with Mrs. Bonnie to great the students and get them in the building. I really like what Mrs. Bonnie does every morning she has smile and her face and she know most of the student’s name.
I was sitting at my desk inside if my third grade classroom that was full with many students. I sat right next to my friend Eric. The teacher, Mrs. Cooksey had put four desks together so that it could make one big table. I sat with two other girls and Eric. Eric was on my right side and one of the girls who is named Yesenia sat in front of me and Keristy sat in front of Eric. We were all working on multiplication problems on a worksheet that Mrs. Cooksey handed out to us. As we were working Eric asked me a question.
The morning mist clung to the schoolyard, despite the nearing warmth of summer. It was May 2015, I was thirteen; eagerly emerging from my pretween years and starting to look more like the teen my age now classified me as. We, my classmates and I, ventured down the path at the side of the school. The day of the trip had come, we’d been preparing for days, and we’d anticipated it far longer than that. Some students were nearly bouncing in excitement, while others dragged their feet as if they were wearing twelve ton shoes.
The build-up to my first day of secondary school was exhilarating. I had painted all these marvellous, glowing, vivid expectations for many years of how I believed it would be like. The morning of my first day I sprung out of bed, bright and early and prepared my school bag with all the new, sparkly, labelled stationeries that I could not wait to finally use; whilst being bombarded with information with what not to do at school by my two elders sisters.
The leaves on the trees are transitioning from green to orange, red, yellow, and slowly falling to the ground. It’s that time again for football games, and homecoming, but this time instead of being stuck in all the chaos I’m in college. As I sit down and think about all this excitement it takes me back to my freshman year of high school. I remember waking up with a vicious headache that felt like a bull had kicked me in the head. That day I did not attend school, instead I just went back to sleep.
The fleeting changes that often accompany seasonal transition are especially exasperated in a child’s mind, most notably when the cool crisp winds of fall signal the summer’s end approaching. The lazy routine I had adopted over several months spent frolicking in the cool blue chlorine soaked waters of my family’s bungalow colony pool gave way to changes far beyond the weather and textbooks. As the surrounding foliage changed in anticipation of colder months, so did my family. My mother’s stomach grew larger as she approached the final days of her pregnancy and in the closing hours of my eight’ summer my mother gently awoke me from the uncomfortable sleep of a long car ride to inform of a wonderful surprise. No longer would we be returning to the four-story walk up I inhabited for the majority of my young life. Instead of the pavement surrounding my former building, the final turn of our seemingly endless journey revealed the sprawling grass expanse of a baseball field directly across from an unfamiliar driveway sloping in front of the red brick walls that eventually came to be know as home.
It was finally the first day of school; I was excited yet nervous. I hoped I would be able to make new friends. The first time I saw the schools name I thought it was the strangest name I’ve ever heard or read, therefore I found it hard to pronounce it in the beginning. The schools’ floors had painted black paw prints, which stood out on the white tiled floor. Once you walk through the doors the office is to the right. The office seemed a bit cramped, since it had so many rooms in such a small area. In the office I meet with a really nice, sweet secretary who helped me register into the school, giving me a small tour of the school, also helping me find
It was a gloomy Tuesday despite the fact that it was late August. I had missed the first day of school because I always hated the idea of introductions and forced social situations during those times. I hated my particular school ever since I started as a freshman the
I remember feeling as if the day was never going to end. Even now as an adult, my concentration still seems to plummet as the weekend approaches. At that time in my life, the degree of patience I could sustain had only been maturing for ten short years. I made that particular school day even more unnecessarily dramatic than usual since I knew it wasn’t just an average Friday. Instead of going to my house after school as usual, I was going home with my best friend. After hours of literally twiddling my thumbs (like I said, I was a dramatic child), we were finally standing outside at the parent pick-up location with the other eager elementary students. My book bag was light on my back, which meant there was no homework in store for me tonight. All I had to look forward to was a sleepover filled with PG-13 movies, a nauseating amount of Reese’s Pieces and Mountain Dew, and prank phone calls to random boys who were also in Mrs. Webb’s fifth grade class. I loved prank phone calls.