“Are you sure?” “Yes!” “OK,” Sydney said as she slowly walked back to her locker, “What do you want to talk about?” “I’ve been doing terrible in my Algebra I class.” “Yeah, I know that.” “But my parents want to transfer me to Algebra II!” “What? Are you serious?” Sydney was shocked that Alice’s parents would do that. “I’m very serious,” Alice replied solemnly, “I don’t know what to do about it!” “Well, I could always try to teach you Algebra I so you’ll understand Algebra II easier.” “I appreciate it, Sydney. But do you remember in 4th grade when you tried to teach me the cake method?” The memory returned to Sydney. Just as she was going to respond, the bell rang.
I don't know what to do anymore. She's ruining me, and I am absolutely, one hundred percent okay with it. The only thing I ever think about anymore, is Sage. Her. With those brown doe eyes, and those naturally pink lips that always felt like heaven against mine.
When we were instructed to sit quietly and read our history books, I would hold mine standing straight up on my desk and hunker down with something more interesting hidden inside it, like Jane Eyre. Thus I came to appreciate those large history books. By the time I advanced to junior high, my dislike of history was as well-ingrained as my love of English. It seemed this would be the case for the rest of my life, had it not been for an English teacher at John Marshall Junior High. Although the Great Disciplinary Divide continued, as it would throughout high school, this teacher (whose name I don’t recall) chose to ignore i... ... middle of paper ... ...eloped and taught, “Integrating Technology in the English Language Arts Classroom,” my syllabus stated that the final project and accompanying paper had to demonstrate a grasp of the theory and practice of integrating new technology.
I got back from break dreading the return to school. I walked into the math room, ready to get the day over with. Instead, we got new seats. I remember waiting for Mr. Nolan to call my name, desperately hoping my new table mate wouldn’t make fun of me. I get seated to a girl named Erin Kruger.
They have already spent their time in school focusing and learning for nothing, since homework is... ... middle of paper ... ... and focus towards learning about math, english, science and so on. When the teachers hand out large stacks of paper, to practice at home, I see that it’s just whatever the kids have learnt already. And if they have to do it again for another two or more hours, that is just plain torture.” I believe that this goes to show that homework is just repeated, fake, knowledge. In conclusion, I have to say that homework should truly be banned from all schools around the world. When this happens, teachers will start to feel respected during class time, parents will be able to bond and get together with their precious family for once, and students?
I think his name is Mr…" she started rummaging through some papers. "Ginah, Gohax, Gonah, Nohga…something like that I'm sure he'll tell you when he gets here tomorrow, but…excuse me, Ms. Videl, are you sleeping in my classroom?" "No, I'm checking for holes in my eyelids," I said sluggishly. I could hear other people snicker in the background but I wasn't trying to be funny. "Well, then I'll see you after school now won't I?"
“Did you finish your history project?” She nagged her as she tried to jam the key into the door of her classroom on the first try. “Almost,” Scarletta said, “I just need to add the finishing touches.” “Alright, then,” Mrs.Evered approved as she opened up the door into the history room, a dark space covered in deep reds, dark browns and ancient yellows that reeked a chill, musty air. They stepped inside, and Scarletta dropped down a bag that was always a little to heavy and cumbersome. She pulled out her French binder and looked over her vocabulary words for the quiz. Mrs. Evered left to fill up her coffee cup.
It was only until secondary school that my mother stopped making me spend more time on practicing handwriting. Now with my computer science major, I use laptop a lot, and my handwriting must be even worse than it used to be. Sometimes I feel like I haven’t touched a pen in days, and when I do need to handwrite something, I will feel uncomfortable at first. I used to write journal almost every day. However, that journal is for my English classes so it is more like a task, not a hobby.
“Am I wrong, bro?” I laughed too. Either she is a real joker or plain stupid, she is indeed entertaining. Miss Rina shook her head and said, “I hope that helps you with any paper. Nice try.” Anyhow, I saw she smiled to that joke. Recess.
Her family was rich… and super hot. We decided to let her sit with us because well better her than some slut. “You’re Eleanor right? I heard about you, congratulations on that music award. You deserved it.” Zendaya said.