This paper was a lot different form the last two especially because I feel like I had more knowledge on writing and a lot to think about when revising my paper, such as was it concise and did I have good sentence variation.
When revising my paper I really tried to make it concise but had trouble deciding what to get rid of. I also felt that since my final draft was longer than my first draft that it wasn't as concise, but I think this is because I added more to my paper before editing it for concision. Also I felt my paper was lacking in some detail in the first draft.
I think adding the outside sources that I did will help the audience to be able to relate and understand my paper a little bit better because not everyone has a background on some of the things I mentioned. I thought it was important to sort of fill in the gaps for reader who would not share the same knowledge I had growing up as a child.
I also tried to show more instead of tell. I added some more imagery and tried to appeal to the senses in my final draft. I really struggled with this part and I'm not sure I did too well with it. I think it is also difficult going from reading amazing essays by writers such as Tan, Douglas, and Welty and then read my essay in comparison. In my future writing I think I will have to work on showing the reader instead of just telling them.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Sports Extravaganza: Final Draft
As a child I spent more time outside playing than I did inside. When I was outside I was always playing some kind of sport with my brothers and neighbors. As the youngest of three children, and the only girl, I always felt like I needed to prove myself to my brothers. I’m sure they didn’t really care if I was good at sports or not, but I always felt since they were bigger, stronger, and older if I could beat them it would really be saying something about me. It would also provide me with a lot of bragging rights.
In the household I grew up in, we were always encouraged to get out and play as many sports as we could as often as possible. My father was really into sports because he had been brought up playing them and he invited us to share in his passion as well. If we ever showed any interest in a sport he would buy us whatever we needed or wanted without hesitation. We had equipment for nearly every sport whether we played it leisurely or competitively. I can remember going to out to the garage and seeing nothing but a sea of sports equipment; it looked like we had our own used sporting goods store right in our garage.
Living in a neighborhood filled with kids around my age who also loved to play sports was perfect for me. Early in the summer mornings all the kids in the neighborhood would wake up and come outside. On an ideal day the air would be warm and the sky would be cloudless, but regardless of the weather, we would still be outside playing. The only time we ever stopped to take a break was to eat lunch or when our mothers would call us in for dinner. If the sun didn’t have to go to bed every night, I’m not sure we would have either. As children living in Pittsburgh, we normally played sports like baseball, hockey, and football that were big in the area because there were pro sports teams for them in the city.
Different days meant different sports for us to indulge in. The neighbors who lived behind my family had an enormous backyard that was perfect for baseball. We spent countless summer days in what felt like our own little PNC Park. As the littlest one that played baseball, I was sure to be picked last. The only way I ever got picked sooner was if one of my older brothers was captain and they wanted to make me feel good. Once everyone divided up into two teams it was time to “play ball”. While playing, I often found myself with the taste of dirt in my mouth and my clothes sticking to me from my sweat. My left hand was always pruned after taking it out of my mitt between innings, and it always smelt like leather and sweat. Most people would not think of running in circles around bases for hours upon hours as fun, but it never failed to entertain us.
Some other days we spent playing street hockey. We had our skates strapped tight on our feet and in our hands were smooth wooden sticks with tape at the top for grip. The sticks smelt like a mix of sweat and mildew from us using them so much and from our hand sweat getting on them. We had two red raggedy, plastic goals that were worn down from being shot on so much, and the nets on them were once white but had turned a sort of brown from getting so dirty. We frequently found ourselves having to move the goals every so often so that a car could pass through what we claimed as our hockey arena. It probably wasn’t the safest idea playing in the middle of the road, but it’s the only place that was big enough for all of us to rollerblade on.
Hockey was always my favorite sport to play because it was the one I was best at and the games got quite competitive. We were constantly checking into each other and knocking each other onto the ground. We played every game like it was game seven of the Stanley Cup final where you either win it all or go home with nothing. My brother often found himself pretending to be goaltender Patrick Roy, his favorite player from the Colorado Avalanche; while I always wanted to be like Mario Lemieux, the star forward for the Pittsburgh Penguins. According to The Encyclopedia of World Biography on Patrick Roy, when Roy left the NHL he was the all-time career leader in victories and games played as a goaltender (Gale, par. 1). This would explain why my brother wanted to be just like him.
If we weren’t playing baseball or hockey, it’s likely that we were playing football. Steeler football was very big in Pittsburgh and still is. During the time I was living in Pittsburgh they already had four Super Bowl wins, which, according to the NFL’s official website, was only one shy of the San Francisco 49ers and tied with the Dallas Cowboys at the time (NFL Super Bowl History 1). This shows that the Steelers have a big football franchise and explains why people are such dedicated fans. We always started out playing two hand touch in the backyard, but it always seemed to turn into tackle by the end of the game. Since I was the littlest out of everyone, I frequently found myself being tossed about the backyard like a little rag doll getting grass stains on my clothes and scrapes and bruises all over my body. The only way for me to escape being flung like this was to outrun the competition. The only problem with that was that their legs were much longer and stronger than mine. Once I got the ball I was pretty much doomed to being knocked down, but this still did not keep me from trying my best in the game. No matter how much I got thrown around I would not stop playing because I could not allow myself to be called a quitter.
Although my experience does not seem exactly like Welty’s, it is actually quite similar. Welty talks about her parents not being able to afford books as children. She says “”my father was all the while carefully selecting and ordering away for what he and Mother thought we children should grow up with.” (Kelly 362). Just as Welty’s parents valued books when they were younger, my parents valued playing sports; therefore, they found it important to spend money on providing us with equipment to play whatever sports we chose.
Also, just like Welty uses the skills she learned while reading in her everyday life, I also use what I learned as a child playing sports in my everyday life especially when I started playing sports in high school. Always pushing myself to be my best when I was little formed good habits for when I was older. Once I got to high school, I refused to give up and I always pushed myself to test my limits not only in games but also in practices. It is probably because of the drive I had when I was little that I was able to be captain in two of the sports I played in high school. I also still use this drive when I workout while at school to keep myself healthy.
The work ethic I learned while playing sports also relates to my schoolwork as well because it taught me to never give up and to push myself to do my best. I also has made me competitive and showed me not to settle for mediocre work. When I do an assignment I make sure it is done to the best of my ability. I would be lost in life if I did not have sports because they have played such a big role in helping me become who I am today.
Work Cited
Gale, Thompson. “Encyclopedia of World Biography on Patrick Roy”. Bookrags. Web. 23 July 2009.
“History”. NFL.com. 2009. National Football League. Web. 23 July 2009.
Kelly, Joseph. The Seagull Reader Essays New York: W. W Norton, 2007. Print.
In the household I grew up in, we were always encouraged to get out and play as many sports as we could as often as possible. My father was really into sports because he had been brought up playing them and he invited us to share in his passion as well. If we ever showed any interest in a sport he would buy us whatever we needed or wanted without hesitation. We had equipment for nearly every sport whether we played it leisurely or competitively. I can remember going to out to the garage and seeing nothing but a sea of sports equipment; it looked like we had our own used sporting goods store right in our garage.
Living in a neighborhood filled with kids around my age who also loved to play sports was perfect for me. Early in the summer mornings all the kids in the neighborhood would wake up and come outside. On an ideal day the air would be warm and the sky would be cloudless, but regardless of the weather, we would still be outside playing. The only time we ever stopped to take a break was to eat lunch or when our mothers would call us in for dinner. If the sun didn’t have to go to bed every night, I’m not sure we would have either. As children living in Pittsburgh, we normally played sports like baseball, hockey, and football that were big in the area because there were pro sports teams for them in the city.
Different days meant different sports for us to indulge in. The neighbors who lived behind my family had an enormous backyard that was perfect for baseball. We spent countless summer days in what felt like our own little PNC Park. As the littlest one that played baseball, I was sure to be picked last. The only way I ever got picked sooner was if one of my older brothers was captain and they wanted to make me feel good. Once everyone divided up into two teams it was time to “play ball”. While playing, I often found myself with the taste of dirt in my mouth and my clothes sticking to me from my sweat. My left hand was always pruned after taking it out of my mitt between innings, and it always smelt like leather and sweat. Most people would not think of running in circles around bases for hours upon hours as fun, but it never failed to entertain us.
Some other days we spent playing street hockey. We had our skates strapped tight on our feet and in our hands were smooth wooden sticks with tape at the top for grip. The sticks smelt like a mix of sweat and mildew from us using them so much and from our hand sweat getting on them. We had two red raggedy, plastic goals that were worn down from being shot on so much, and the nets on them were once white but had turned a sort of brown from getting so dirty. We frequently found ourselves having to move the goals every so often so that a car could pass through what we claimed as our hockey arena. It probably wasn’t the safest idea playing in the middle of the road, but it’s the only place that was big enough for all of us to rollerblade on.
Hockey was always my favorite sport to play because it was the one I was best at and the games got quite competitive. We were constantly checking into each other and knocking each other onto the ground. We played every game like it was game seven of the Stanley Cup final where you either win it all or go home with nothing. My brother often found himself pretending to be goaltender Patrick Roy, his favorite player from the Colorado Avalanche; while I always wanted to be like Mario Lemieux, the star forward for the Pittsburgh Penguins. According to The Encyclopedia of World Biography on Patrick Roy, when Roy left the NHL he was the all-time career leader in victories and games played as a goaltender (Gale, par. 1). This would explain why my brother wanted to be just like him.
If we weren’t playing baseball or hockey, it’s likely that we were playing football. Steeler football was very big in Pittsburgh and still is. During the time I was living in Pittsburgh they already had four Super Bowl wins, which, according to the NFL’s official website, was only one shy of the San Francisco 49ers and tied with the Dallas Cowboys at the time (NFL Super Bowl History 1). This shows that the Steelers have a big football franchise and explains why people are such dedicated fans. We always started out playing two hand touch in the backyard, but it always seemed to turn into tackle by the end of the game. Since I was the littlest out of everyone, I frequently found myself being tossed about the backyard like a little rag doll getting grass stains on my clothes and scrapes and bruises all over my body. The only way for me to escape being flung like this was to outrun the competition. The only problem with that was that their legs were much longer and stronger than mine. Once I got the ball I was pretty much doomed to being knocked down, but this still did not keep me from trying my best in the game. No matter how much I got thrown around I would not stop playing because I could not allow myself to be called a quitter.
Although my experience does not seem exactly like Welty’s, it is actually quite similar. Welty talks about her parents not being able to afford books as children. She says “”my father was all the while carefully selecting and ordering away for what he and Mother thought we children should grow up with.” (Kelly 362). Just as Welty’s parents valued books when they were younger, my parents valued playing sports; therefore, they found it important to spend money on providing us with equipment to play whatever sports we chose.
Also, just like Welty uses the skills she learned while reading in her everyday life, I also use what I learned as a child playing sports in my everyday life especially when I started playing sports in high school. Always pushing myself to be my best when I was little formed good habits for when I was older. Once I got to high school, I refused to give up and I always pushed myself to test my limits not only in games but also in practices. It is probably because of the drive I had when I was little that I was able to be captain in two of the sports I played in high school. I also still use this drive when I workout while at school to keep myself healthy.
The work ethic I learned while playing sports also relates to my schoolwork as well because it taught me to never give up and to push myself to do my best. I also has made me competitive and showed me not to settle for mediocre work. When I do an assignment I make sure it is done to the best of my ability. I would be lost in life if I did not have sports because they have played such a big role in helping me become who I am today.
Work Cited
Gale, Thompson. “Encyclopedia of World Biography on Patrick Roy”. Bookrags. Web. 23 July 2009.
“History”. NFL.com. 2009. National Football League. Web. 23 July 2009.
Kelly, Joseph. The Seagull Reader Essays New York: W. W Norton, 2007. Print.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Writing Log 8
The feedback I received was very useful. It gave me a lot of great ideas for how to improve my essay. I agree with them that I did more of telling than showing, but I think their suggestions will help me with how to show instead when I do my final draft.
I also think I need to add more pathos and figure out how to incorporate all of the senses for the reader to experience.
I also have good ideas how to add outside information into my essay. This will allow my audience to better relate to my essay. However, I think I'm going to have to play with it a little bit and see which ideas will work best.
I also think I need to add more pathos and figure out how to incorporate all of the senses for the reader to experience.
I also have good ideas how to add outside information into my essay. This will allow my audience to better relate to my essay. However, I think I'm going to have to play with it a little bit and see which ideas will work best.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Sports Extravaganza
As a child I spent more time outside playing than I did inside. Living in a neighborhood full of other kids around my age was ideal. As the youngest of three children, and the only girl, I always felt like I needed to prove myself to my brothers. I’m sure they didn’t really care if I was good at sports or not, but I always felt since they were bigger, stronger, and older if I could beat them it would really be saying something about me. It would also provide me with a lot of bragging rights.
In the household I grew up in, we were always encouraged to get out and play as many sports as we could as often as possible. My father was really into sports and invited us to share in that passion as well. If we ever showed any interest in a sport he would buy us whatever we needed or wanted, without hesitation, so that we were able to play that sport. We had equipment for nearly every sport whether we played it leisurely or competitively. I can remember going to out to the garage and seeing nothing but a sea of sports equipment. I’m pretty sure we could have opened our own used sporting goods store with all the equipment in our garage.
Living in a neighborhood filled with kids around my age who also loved to play sports was perfect for me. Early in the summer mornings all the kids in the neighborhood would wake up and come outside. On an ideal day the air would be warm and the sky would be cloudless, but regardless of the weather, we would still be outside playing. The only time we ever stopped to take a break was to eat lunch or when our mothers would call us in for dinner, and most of the time we would bring out big jugs of lemonade or water to quench our thirst so we did not have to go inside. If the sun didn’t have to go to bed every night, I’m not sure we would have either. There was always a game to be played, and everyone was always ready to play. As children living in Pittsburgh, we normally played sports that were big in that area. These included baseball, hockey, and football.
Different days meant different sports for us to indulge in. The neighbors who lived behind my family had a massive backyard that was perfect for baseball. We spent countless summer days in what felt like our own little PNC Park. As the littlest one that played baseball, I was sure to be picked last. The only way I ever got picked sooner was if one of my older brothers was captain and they wanted to make me feel good. If I didn’t get picked last I was feeling like a million bucks because at the time I did not realize they were just doing it to make me feel good about myself. Once everyone divided up into two teams it was time to “play ball”. We had benches set up like our own little dugout and often spent hours upon hours going into extra innings that weren’t even necessary, but were nonetheless enjoyable. Most people would not think of running in circles around bases for hours upon hours as fun, but it never failed to entertain us.
Some other days we spent playing street hockey. This was always my favorite sport to play and the games often got quite competitive. We played every game like it was game seven of the Stanley Cup final where you either win it all or go home with nothing. My brother often found himself pretending to be goaltender Patrick Roy, his favorite player from the Colorado Avalanche; while I always wanted to be like Mario Lemieux, the star forward for the Pittsburgh Penguins. We had two red raggedy, plastic goals that were worn down from being shot on so much. The nets on them were once white but had turned a sort of brown from getting so dirty. We frequently found ourselves having to move the goals every so often so that a car could pass through the road. It probably wasn’t the safest idea playing in the middle of the road, but it’s the only place that was big enough for all of us to rollerblade on. Countless hours were spent skating back and forth on that hot pavement trying to put the ball in the goal. I think this was my favorite sport because it was one where I could help make plays and did not need to be very strong.
If we weren’t playing baseball or hockey, it’s likely that we were playing football. We always started out playing two hand touch in our big, grassy backyard. After we had been playing the game for a while, and emotions got brought into play, it always seemed to get a little bit more aggressive and turn into tackle. Since I was the littlest one out of everyone, I frequently found myself being tossed about the backyard like a little rag doll. The only way for me to escape being flung like this was to outrun the competition. The only problem with that was that their legs were much longer and stronger than mine. Once I got the ball I was pretty much doomed to being knocked down, but this still did not keep me from trying my best in the game. No matter how much I got thrown around I would not stop playing, mostly because my brothers would make fun of me and call me a “baby” or a “chicken”. Even though it sounds like torture, it was still entertaining and fun to me.
Although my experience does not seem exactly like Welty’s, it is actually quite similar. Welty talks about her parents not being able to afford books as children. She says “”my father was all the while carefully selecting and ordering away for what he and Mother thought we children should grow up with.” (362).Just as Welty’s parents valued books when they were younger, my parents valued playing sports so they found it important to spend money on providing us with equipment to play whatever sports we chose.
Also, just like Welty uses the skills she learned while reading in her everyday life, I also use what I learned as a child playing sports in my everyday life. It all came in very handy when I started playing sports in high school. Always pushing myself to be my best when I was little formed good habits for when I was older. Once I got to high school, I refused to give up and I always pushed myself to test my limits not only in games but also in practices. It is probably because of the drive I had when I was little that I was able to be captain in two of the sports I played in high school. I still use this drive when I workout while at school to keep myself healthy.
The work ethic I learned while playing sports also relates to my schoolwork as well because it taught me to never give up and to push myself to do my best. I also has made me competitive and showed me not to settle for mediocre work. When I do an assignment I make sure it is done to the best of my ability.
*I know I still need to add outside sources I was just struggling with how to put those in. I also wasn't quite sure on how to conclude my paper.
In the household I grew up in, we were always encouraged to get out and play as many sports as we could as often as possible. My father was really into sports and invited us to share in that passion as well. If we ever showed any interest in a sport he would buy us whatever we needed or wanted, without hesitation, so that we were able to play that sport. We had equipment for nearly every sport whether we played it leisurely or competitively. I can remember going to out to the garage and seeing nothing but a sea of sports equipment. I’m pretty sure we could have opened our own used sporting goods store with all the equipment in our garage.
Living in a neighborhood filled with kids around my age who also loved to play sports was perfect for me. Early in the summer mornings all the kids in the neighborhood would wake up and come outside. On an ideal day the air would be warm and the sky would be cloudless, but regardless of the weather, we would still be outside playing. The only time we ever stopped to take a break was to eat lunch or when our mothers would call us in for dinner, and most of the time we would bring out big jugs of lemonade or water to quench our thirst so we did not have to go inside. If the sun didn’t have to go to bed every night, I’m not sure we would have either. There was always a game to be played, and everyone was always ready to play. As children living in Pittsburgh, we normally played sports that were big in that area. These included baseball, hockey, and football.
Different days meant different sports for us to indulge in. The neighbors who lived behind my family had a massive backyard that was perfect for baseball. We spent countless summer days in what felt like our own little PNC Park. As the littlest one that played baseball, I was sure to be picked last. The only way I ever got picked sooner was if one of my older brothers was captain and they wanted to make me feel good. If I didn’t get picked last I was feeling like a million bucks because at the time I did not realize they were just doing it to make me feel good about myself. Once everyone divided up into two teams it was time to “play ball”. We had benches set up like our own little dugout and often spent hours upon hours going into extra innings that weren’t even necessary, but were nonetheless enjoyable. Most people would not think of running in circles around bases for hours upon hours as fun, but it never failed to entertain us.
Some other days we spent playing street hockey. This was always my favorite sport to play and the games often got quite competitive. We played every game like it was game seven of the Stanley Cup final where you either win it all or go home with nothing. My brother often found himself pretending to be goaltender Patrick Roy, his favorite player from the Colorado Avalanche; while I always wanted to be like Mario Lemieux, the star forward for the Pittsburgh Penguins. We had two red raggedy, plastic goals that were worn down from being shot on so much. The nets on them were once white but had turned a sort of brown from getting so dirty. We frequently found ourselves having to move the goals every so often so that a car could pass through the road. It probably wasn’t the safest idea playing in the middle of the road, but it’s the only place that was big enough for all of us to rollerblade on. Countless hours were spent skating back and forth on that hot pavement trying to put the ball in the goal. I think this was my favorite sport because it was one where I could help make plays and did not need to be very strong.
If we weren’t playing baseball or hockey, it’s likely that we were playing football. We always started out playing two hand touch in our big, grassy backyard. After we had been playing the game for a while, and emotions got brought into play, it always seemed to get a little bit more aggressive and turn into tackle. Since I was the littlest one out of everyone, I frequently found myself being tossed about the backyard like a little rag doll. The only way for me to escape being flung like this was to outrun the competition. The only problem with that was that their legs were much longer and stronger than mine. Once I got the ball I was pretty much doomed to being knocked down, but this still did not keep me from trying my best in the game. No matter how much I got thrown around I would not stop playing, mostly because my brothers would make fun of me and call me a “baby” or a “chicken”. Even though it sounds like torture, it was still entertaining and fun to me.
Although my experience does not seem exactly like Welty’s, it is actually quite similar. Welty talks about her parents not being able to afford books as children. She says “”my father was all the while carefully selecting and ordering away for what he and Mother thought we children should grow up with.” (362).Just as Welty’s parents valued books when they were younger, my parents valued playing sports so they found it important to spend money on providing us with equipment to play whatever sports we chose.
Also, just like Welty uses the skills she learned while reading in her everyday life, I also use what I learned as a child playing sports in my everyday life. It all came in very handy when I started playing sports in high school. Always pushing myself to be my best when I was little formed good habits for when I was older. Once I got to high school, I refused to give up and I always pushed myself to test my limits not only in games but also in practices. It is probably because of the drive I had when I was little that I was able to be captain in two of the sports I played in high school. I still use this drive when I workout while at school to keep myself healthy.
The work ethic I learned while playing sports also relates to my schoolwork as well because it taught me to never give up and to push myself to do my best. I also has made me competitive and showed me not to settle for mediocre work. When I do an assignment I make sure it is done to the best of my ability.
*I know I still need to add outside sources I was just struggling with how to put those in. I also wasn't quite sure on how to conclude my paper.
Writing Log 7
I thought this paper was the hardest to get started on out of all three. When I was reading the topics none of them really set off a lighbulb in my head as something I would be able to relate to at first. It took quite a lot of brainstorming just to come up with what I wanted to write about, and I would say that was the biggest stage of my prewriting process.
After deciding what I was going to write about, I set up a very basic outiline. It looked similar to this:
~Intro
~Three different sports
>baseball
>hockey
>soccer
~Relate my text to Welty's
~Conclusion
From here I started my writing phase.
After deciding what I was going to write about, I set up a very basic outiline. It looked similar to this:
~Intro
~Three different sports
>baseball
>hockey
>soccer
~Relate my text to Welty's
~Conclusion
From here I started my writing phase.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Lecture 14 Quiz
The room I hung out in most as a child was my bedroom. The design was similar to an African safari. The bed, lamp, and wallpaper were all animal print, and the curtains were black; there were even fake trees to give it a more realistic feel. However, it always had an ominous ambiance most likely because of the black curtains.Although it was my bedroom, after my grandmother, dying of cancer moved in, I would never call it my room again. I gave my room to her and moved into my brother’s.
In a corner was a small Mickey Mouse play kitchen set which looked very out of place in the African safari. Although this was my favorite toy, it was not often that I played with it after my grandmother moved in. I would only go in and play with it when she was out of the house because I did not want to disturb her.
Once my grandmother passed, I rarely set foot in that room. It had even more of an eerie feeling, because of the memories that lingered. My parents tried to get me to go back to my room, giving me my own space once again, but I would always reply, "That's not my room anymore. It's Grandma's." I was content sleeping on the top bunk of my brother’s bunk beds. It was not until we moved into a different house that I would consider moving into my own bedroom.
(361 to 246, about 32%)
In a corner was a small Mickey Mouse play kitchen set which looked very out of place in the African safari. Although this was my favorite toy, it was not often that I played with it after my grandmother moved in. I would only go in and play with it when she was out of the house because I did not want to disturb her.
Once my grandmother passed, I rarely set foot in that room. It had even more of an eerie feeling, because of the memories that lingered. My parents tried to get me to go back to my room, giving me my own space once again, but I would always reply, "That's not my room anymore. It's Grandma's." I was content sleeping on the top bunk of my brother’s bunk beds. It was not until we moved into a different house that I would consider moving into my own bedroom.
(361 to 246, about 32%)
Friday, July 17, 2009
Reading Log 9
In Me Talk Pretty One Day, I thought there was a really good use of dialogue. Sedaris used this to directly show how his teacher spoke to him. It allowed her harshness to be seen in full instead of being sugar coated by paraphrasing. Another thing that I thought was very genius was his use of the French words in his professor’s dialogue. This allowed the reader to feel just as lost as he was in this class. I know while I was reading it I was forced to just skip over those words because I had no chance at all of knowing what they meant, which I think was the author’s intended effect.
Sedaris also did a good job of showing how he was feeling. Toward the end when he said, “I knew my fear was getting the best of me when I started wondering why they don’t sell cuts of meat in vending machines.” (289). I thought this really showed the reader the fear the author was experiencing. It made me reflect on how desperate one would have to be to have a thought like that. This gave more insight than just simply saying he was frightened to talk to anyone.
He also characterized his teacher very well. He made her seem like Hitler’s sister or something along those lines. Again, as the reader, I felt that I would not want to be in a classroom with a teacher like this, and that I would drop that class after the very first day. The first thing that really caught my attention about this teacher being ruthless is when Sedaris said, “She hadn’t yet punched anyone, but it seemed wise to protect ourselves against the inevitable.” (288). That should be enough to invoke fear in any reader.
The author also did a good job of not adding a lot of ineffectual information. All of it seemed to have a purpose and reinforced his image of this evil teacher and the terrible time he had in French class.
Sedaris also did a good job of showing how he was feeling. Toward the end when he said, “I knew my fear was getting the best of me when I started wondering why they don’t sell cuts of meat in vending machines.” (289). I thought this really showed the reader the fear the author was experiencing. It made me reflect on how desperate one would have to be to have a thought like that. This gave more insight than just simply saying he was frightened to talk to anyone.
He also characterized his teacher very well. He made her seem like Hitler’s sister or something along those lines. Again, as the reader, I felt that I would not want to be in a classroom with a teacher like this, and that I would drop that class after the very first day. The first thing that really caught my attention about this teacher being ruthless is when Sedaris said, “She hadn’t yet punched anyone, but it seemed wise to protect ourselves against the inevitable.” (288). That should be enough to invoke fear in any reader.
The author also did a good job of not adding a lot of ineffectual information. All of it seemed to have a purpose and reinforced his image of this evil teacher and the terrible time he had in French class.
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