I am a middle child. I am not the assertive, naturally confident first-born, nor am I an attention-seeking youngest child; I am the quiet, quintessential middle child. For the first 16 years of my life, I was always an afterthought to the craziness of my two sisters, and I loved it‒ it made me independent and self-reliant. I have always been very comfortable being the easy-going child, happily accepting anything that comes my way. Never have I felt that my parents loved me any less; they merely had to worry less about me than they did my siblings, with their stubbornness and constant desire for affirmation. I easily slid under the radar, preferring to mind my own business and handle problems on my own. There was never anything wrong with my …show more content…
After a grueling first quarter, I was completely miserable, with terrible grades, low self-esteem, and no end in sight. I was hanging on to the hope that there would be some epiphany moment, a moment where suddenly my writing soared, along with my grades. That change did happen, but not all at once‒ it began during the third quarter, when my teacher, Ms. Boynton, asked me to stay after class, along with five other students. She asked if we would each be interested in participating in The Atlantic and College Board Essay Contest, in which we would each submit an analysis of a famous American speech. I was truly stunned that she had chosen me over so many other students in the class, since I had felt so lost for so many weeks, but it was exactly what I needed as motivation to keep on improving my writing. As I worked closely with her on my contest submission and other class work, I came to realize how much she cared about me and wanted to help me succeed. With that being said, she never made it easy; she continually pushed me, knowing that I could always do better if I set my mind to it. Last September, I began her demanding course with the intention of purely surviving, not necessarily thriving, but that
With the guidance of Mrs. Smythe, my peers, and my parents, as well as my own determination, I have gained much better control over the English language. However, I also learned something about myself as a person throughout my time in English 9/10. I used to let fear control me in English, which would translate to other parts of my life. Throughout my seventh and eighth grade years of Middle School, I would sit in silence for entire class periods, afraid to begin my essays, afraid to have to accept that it may not be as good as my other school work, afraid of what others would think. However, I learned this year that people like my mother and grandmother were not disappointed in my work but instead would suggest ways by which I could improve my writing. Additionally Mrs. Smythe constantly helped through the feedback she provided. Even when I received my first essay back, one that was clearly not to the best of my ability, she gave balanced feedback between ways to improve my writing while also providing supporting for future assignments. “It is not necessary to convert an entire scene, just the moments that are important. The inclusion of text in the last body paragraph is most appropriate, although there is still a bit too much of it. Good effort...” Even if I forget who said what in Romeo and Juliet, or the name of the main character in The Book of Lost Things,
At 11:15 on Monday, August 17, 2015, my first official college class, English 1101, began. In general, I had no idea what college classes would be like let alone how college English would be. Even though this class taught me a great deal in one semester, it took a large amount of time and effort to make the adjustment from high school. The simplistic writing style of high school was put to rest the moment the first college English class began. As a result, I learned quickly that college writing is complex and less systematic than high school writing. Five paragraph essays with three strict body paragraphs were no longer the norm for writing. Even though my professor helped guide my writing, I was no longer coddled through the whole writing
They tend to “branch off” from the oldest sibling’s traits, in an attempt to be recognized for their own characteristics and not be compared to their older sibling (“Birth Order”). Because the oldest sibling usually is very scholarly and conscientious, the middle child often becomes somewhat lazy and has less drive. They are stuck in the middle of older and younger siblings, and often end up being the mediator or the compromiser (Lemain). Because of this, they grow up to have great people skills in varying groups. Middle kids sometimes struggle with jealousy and self-esteem because they were given less attention growing up compared to the oldest and youngest children (Collins). Middle kids can be somewhat competitive because they always have needed to compete with siblings for goods and attention. Sometimes, however, they are more laid back than their siblings. This depends on the child’s own circumstances (“Birth Order”). Overall, middle children are independent, social, and diplomatic
It was two months ago when I discussed how big of a change it was for me to enter into a college writing class. Throughout my first semester attending writing 105, I’ve learned to “rise about my limits”. Reading and writing was a tool I always tend to struggle with yet I continued to focus on exceeding pass my goal. Each essay I wrote became better allowing me to not only learn more but grow as a writer. I started off being able to just write two page essays and now I’ve adapted to being able to write 7 pages without losing track. Over the semester my writing has improved due to dedication, having a purpose and analyzing my mistakes.
Over the first and second quarters of Dual Enrollment English at Brooke Point High School, I have grown immensely as a writer. I learned a great deal about how to write a paper, as well as, about myself. In the beginning of this course, I felt as if my assignments were going to overwhelm me; I also felt apathetic about completing them. This led me to create my own personal agenda as to how I would complete my assignments. My plan was to overcome my weaknesses and enhance my strengths within the construction my essays, depth of paragraphs and overall assignments.
I started writing my first real essay in the Eighth grade, and I never knew why I was given such an awful task. I am a terrible English/Writing scholar and I never could comprehend the concept of writing. I put a lot of work and heart into my first essay, but that still didn’t get me the grade that I wanted. Needless to say I got a “D” on the essay. I was extremely disappointed in the grade I made and I wanted to reject writing all together, but that is not the kind of scholar I am, so I began my journey during my Eighth grade year to become a better writer. I had many academic goals that year, but my main goal was to excel on the English state writing test at the end of the year. The test would determine if I moved on to ninth grade English or if I would get placed in a pre-high school English program. To achieve my goals I knew that I was going to have to work hard not only on developing the papers I write, but also making sure they are grammatically correct, interesting, and that each story or essay gets the main point across as well.
This English course was a vastly informative class. We covered lots of criteria material and discussed topics during class. During the course, I have accomplish a variety of goals I once thought were unachievable. I still have a little ways to go to become the best writer I can be but by taking this course I have been able to expand and learn as a writer, editor, and analyzer of my work, peers work, and academic work. I have learned from others as others have learned from me. I have tried to improve particular aspects of my writing but continue to struggle with other aspects. I have found new strategies and breakthroughs that have allowed me to improve my essays. However, I am still learning how to write and believe that I always shall
Enter from the left, an undersized, awkwardly slow, roly poly. This is the visual I would use to best describe middle school me. At this peculiar point in my life I was really getting into paintball. One weekend over spring break, me and my friend Wesley go to the paint park. If there was ever a day to go to the paintball park, it was that weekend. The paint park was running a special and the place had more people than the ocean had anchovies. I mean it was like the scene from World War Z where the zombies are making giant mounds of zombie in order to scale the wall surrounding Jerusalem. The official count was thirty seven. It actually was a really bad paint park, I am pretty sure they didn’t even have a bathroom. I only went to it because
Expressing myself through writing has always exhilarated my mind. Throughout grade school, I was continuously composing poems and short stories, not only for class assignments, but for the pure joy of doing it. However, entering a college English course terrified me. Having graduated fourteen years prior, and only flexing my writing muscles for personal journal entries and job resumes, I felt intimidated. Yet, I understood that in order to succeed in college, and my future career, I would need to absorb the knowledge of techniques, structures, and critical thinking skills presented within this course.
Growing up as the middle child, having an older sister and younger brother, one would think that being in the middle, one might gradually gravitate to the older sibling, because of the older sibling being the same sex as you are, such as playing with dolls, dressing up the dolls or simply playing dress up with each other; however, that was not the case. I admired my sisters admirations of wanting to have a close relationship with me, the mere dream of having someone to dress up, to braid each-others hair; came to mind at times, but running around in the mud and playing sports was more appealing and more that meets the eye. Growing up I gravitated towards my brother, we were one grade difference in grade school, and only eleven months apart in age. Hanging out with my brother was awesome, similar friends, similar age groups, we all enjoyed running around, getting muddy, or simply the art of video gaming. Back in the day the computer game The Sims was quite popular as well, we both enjoyed playing that for hours, instead of doing our homework and focusing on our studies, not much worry for a pre-teen to teenager at that time. Then there was that time in grade school, my father would drop off the three of us to the morning care at the school prior to school starting, the morning-care took place in the gynmasium at the school. I distincively remember my brother and I would bring our Pok'emon cards to school and pull them out in the morning, to try to battle with the other students, and one day that
I can’t believe this is happening again, I think to myself, as I follow the small, chunky social worker, Elena, to her white Toyota Camry. “Are you sure I will be able to come back? I’m only wearing my pajamas.” I asked, as I walked hesitantly down the driveway behind her, staring at the back of her head wondering if she would have the decency to lie to my face. “Yes, of course, we are just going down to my office to finish up some questions and sign some papers,” she said as she opened the passenger side door and looked briefly at me before she scurried around to the driver side and hoped in. I slid into the pleather seat and couldn’t help but think, Lies! Come on I’m 16, I am not a child. I mean that’s why you’re taking me right? You know I haven’t been a child for a long time now. Before I could look back at my house Elena had taken off, away from my
People have challenges, they have an obligation to overcome constantly, whether it be; school, the daily grind, going out in public, or simply making it through their day. Here is what I have overcome as a child all the way from when I was probably around 5 until I was about 10, so about five years. During this time, CPS came around about three or four times. Due to this, one time I was at an elementary track meet and I was about to go to my favorite event, but, before I could go to my event, I got called into a room considering CPS was there to talk to me. The principal got in touch with my mother and she didn’t have any other choice except to pick me up. As we were leaving, the man followed us to our house for the reason that he wanted to inspect the house. When the man left, my sister and I got screamed at by
My 1st child, I really could have used a Doula.. My husband was deployed in Afghanistan, I was 19 and trusted the doctors way too much... then.. I had never heard of a Doula. Had I known or had one, maybe the unnecessary c-section would have been prevented. My 2nd child, my first unmedicated VBAC, I had chatted with a few doulas however we couldn't afford them and they lived hours from us... I think had I had a Doula with me, my 1st VBAC would've went dreamful... The on-call doctor forced pitocin on me to "hurry me up" even though I was progressing on my own.. she would not let me out of bed and I had horrible back labor. When I needed to push I did, and the nurse shrieked at me to stop and wait for the doctor, but i didn't, i pushed. I was
Most people believe that the middle child is the neglected, attention-seeking, misunderstood black sheep of the family. On the other hand, my family would most likely say that I am loud, bossy and crazy, although I like to think that I am just excitable, in control, and a good time. As an older sister, I have learned that I am not patient, but I am very responsible. I have also learned that unlike my brothers, I have grown to be a very independent person, which may have been contributed to by being a middle child. Being a younger sister has also taught me many things. My older sister
A 2003 study showed that when people were asked about what they believed about middle children, the participants said that middle children were the most envious, least bold, and least talkative of all siblings. Participants believed that middle children to be prone to bad behavior. In fact these stereotypes are not true. In reality first born children are the mostly to act out. The reason for this is that for some point of time they were the only child. They grew accustomed to receive all the parental attention. When they become the oldest child they have a hard time adjusting to that and in the end act out. Middle children in fact tend to be the most social of all siblings. Since middle children do not feel the family bond with their parents, they search out friends who become like their family. Middle children have the best social skills of all children. Middle children relate well to older and younger people. They tend to be the most successful of all siblings in team sports, primarily because of their social skills. Middle children do not resent their older and younger siblings. They actually are quite close and rely on each other for