Tasnim Narrative

For three years she’s waited to get her favorite teacher Miss.Harriet, turns out it didn’t go as planned she was assigned to a different teacher, and was disappointed.

At first, Eubank did not believe her son when he complained about his mean teacher. The staff at the school suggested at her son should take medication because he was not concentrating on class. She took him to get an evaluation at Baylor University, but he was fine. After visiting the school, her eyes were opened by a student who was classmates with her son. Jessica Kelmon, an author for greatschools.org, writes that “the teacher would regularly humiliate him in front of the other students, yelling at him and slamming her hand on his desk (Kelmon).” This fourth-grade teacher is an example as to how much a teacher’s attitude toward the students affects their excitement to learn. When a student is being treated poorly by a teacher, an interesting subject can be ruined for that student.

Walking into the classroom, something just didn't seem right. The lights were out, blinds closed, and only one shadowy figure sat at the teacher’s desk. Just by the shape of the figure I could tell it wasn’t my teacher. A chill swept through the room making the hairs on my neck stand up. I began to sweat and my hands shook. I stood, staring at the shadow at the front of the room. I finally built up enough courage to mutter out “Who are you?” The figure then spoke with a deep, threatening voice “I think you know who I am!” This was true, I had met the figure a few years ago. I tried to escape the past, but it caught up to me. “How did the school let you in?” I asked. “Do you really think that I would come in here with permission?

As I am walking down the hall to Ms.Johnson’s room, I see something different. There is a sub today. I just really hope she isn’t as mean as she looks. When I walk into the classroom I get my folder and go to my assigned seat to start my “do now”. When the teacher walks in she says,”Everyone sit down and don’t make a noise unless you want a step!”

Today is the day, the day I would get the paper I worked so hard on back. It is a chilly fall morning as I walked to my AP Literature classroom. The classroom was full of vibrant colors that match my teacher’s fiery red hair, various pug pictures, and a shelf jam-packed with Mr. Potato heads. Mrs. Grimes, my teacher, is loud, impolite, and to say this nicely, she is an overweight older woman. I hate going to her class every day, nothing I ever do is good enough for her, she hates me all because I am quiet. So, I am very apprehensive about what grade I had received on this paper.

Then I went to language and sat down next to Makenzi, Taylor, and Itzel. Makenzi gave me a piece of gum and the rest of class consisted of reading a stupid story. Then Mrs. Morrone told us our homework which was a work book page. 10 minutes after that she dismissed us and I stopped at my locker. I opened it with ease and took out my science textbook and workbook. I sat down next to Taylor and we talked about our science fair project, which is due in January. All of a sudden, Mrs. Dainton screamed out, “Ah, a spider!” The whole class laughed and screamed. Mrs. Dainton took off her black shoe and tried to hit the spider, but she missed. She aimed again and finally hit it. She told us to quiet down and do our homework, we didn’t. Makenzi continued to laugh and make jokes. “Makenzi, come here,” yelled Mrs. Dainton. Makenzi didn’t so she got a referral. When Makenzi left, the class quieted down and continued working. Mrs. Dainton quietly dismissed us and I stayed because that’s where I have advisory. I worked on homework, and when I was done I read my book. The book I’m reading is called “After Eli”. The bell rung, I put up my chair, and I

I met Travis James Votaw in the summer of 2005, at Victory Church. Each of different family members were connected with one another. Our moms were dance moms, little sister’s were in a dance class, our dad’s were in the same men ministry at our church. Needless to say, we had a lot of connections of meeting one another. My family and I never had a family that we just “clicked” with. The Votaws were just like us, only from South Texas! I remember my mama telling me that we were going to go on a day trip with the Votaws to Mt. Scott in Lawton, Oklahoma. We spent the whole day with them, it was so much fun! The one memory that I remember the most from the trip was the car rides. Kimi rode with my parents and Jessi (thank goodness they didn’t scare her off! ☺) I rode with John, Shirley, and the boys. For some reason the Votaws had a giant bag of mini pretzels. John declared a challenge for all of us to do, it was to eat the inside of the pretzel without destroying the outer ring. Needless to

At 1:00 p.m. I entered into Evoline C. West Elementary school on Thursday, July 12 2012 for an interview with Mrs. Yolanda Lawrence. As I entered the classroom, I was greeted by Mrs. Lawrence, the head teacher in this classroom. Mrs. Lawrence has no assistant at this present because of it being in the summer. After I entered into the classroom, the entire class welcomed me with “hello Ms. Flournoy”. It made my day to see all of those smiley faces greeting me. This was a 2nd grade classroom which consisted of 17 students of which 8 were girls and 9 were boys. This interview and observation was a total of 2

On September 1, 2012, I walked into my fifth grade teacher’s classroom for the first time in my life. Mrs.Cullen was standing in the front of the door with open arms ready to welcome her new fifth grade students. As I made my way to my desk and sat down next to Charlie Schutt and Quin Timmerman, I got the feeling that middle school would be a time of talking to some of my best friends and cruising through classes. As the school year progressed, and classroom seats changed, my thought of how Middle school would be changed as well. On the first day Mrs.Cullen explained our schedule, Homework detentions, and demerits. After about fifty questions, she sent us off to our first class, and the first step of our Middle School journey. The fifth grade

I remember the first day I walked into my kindergarten class, I clenched my mother’s hand with all my might to prevent her from letting go. The kids around me, whom I supposed were my classmates, had long let go of their mother’s had and were playing together, and even as a five year old, at that point I felt like an outsider. I pleaded my mom to not leave but my attempts failed as I found myself alone yet surrounded by complete strangers. As I stood in the center of the room while pushing back my tears and eyeing my mother make her way out the door, I heard the teacher call my name. I timidly walked towards the spot on the yellow carpet she was signaling at for me to sit on. I heard Mrs. Ross’s soothing voice but no matter how much I concentrated

My first day of the second grade, I knew no one except the teacher and my younger brother. Kindergarten and first grade had been easy enough, but I was scared of the upcoming year. The only thing I knew about being the new kid was that it hadn’t panned out too great for Addie from the American Girl books. Mrs. Henson’s class was fairly quiet throughout the day, for most kids were nervous or tired. We neared the end of the day and I was ecstatic over the fact that hadn’t made a complete fool of myself. I hadn’t met anyone yet, but I thought that that would be a challenge for another day. Unfortunately, that’s not what Mrs. Henson had in mind. She sent us all out to recess with a grin plastered on her face and with me practically kicking

The principal’s office was on the other end of the school from the cafeteria, maybe because he didn’t want to have to hear the noise from us kids, but anyway, it took a long time to get there. it didn’t help that people were following us because they saw me hit Rachel. When I got there, I thanked the boy, hoping he would leave so I could make a break for it, but I guess he was smarter than that because he stayed. The office lady told me that I could go right in, which was a surprise because principals are almost always busy, but I did. When I opened the big heavy door, I was shocked. Rachel had a huge red make on her face! I guess I was a better fighter than I thought! The principal told me to sit down, and then he said, “You’re editor told me about the pen name, and I hope I didn’t overstep my boundries when I told Rachel, Bethany. I figure you just forgot. I’m going to leave you to work this out. If you have any more problems, feel free to stop

I guess that the police were coming for me but I needed to get to my attendance line, so the teachers would think i'm missing. I started bawling not knowing what to do. “Are you lost” a voice questioned. I flipped around, startled by the voice, I found myself face to face with a teacher that I had never seen before. “Yes I have no idea where my teacher is” trying to speak through my tears. I then explained who my teacher was and she grabbed my hand, pulling me through the dense crowd. I leached onto her hand to make sure we didn't get separated. As we walked toward my teacher I did my best to hold back tears so that I didn't seem to suspicious. The teachers exchanged some quick words and then looked back to me, as I tried to look as innocent as

"No, Connie. I do not." Her face falls and she turns slowly. I shrug it off and continue to class. I walk in to find twenty pairs of eyes staring at me, twenty mouths whispering my name. Word travels fast in this shit hole of a school, so I assume this is about Connie. I take my seat and wait for the teacher to take names. All eyes are still on me, the only sound their whispers. The chair next to me creaks in protest as it is dragged violently across the floor and a bag hits the desk next to me.

Suddenly, there was a hush in the room. The teacher had asked someone a question! I tried to seem casual as I glanced up to see if I was the unlucky person who had been called upon. My heart jumped and then I realized that the teacher was looking at the person to my right, waiting expectantly for an answer. I stared at the girl also, as if I was truly interested in whatever ramblings might come out of her mouth about the dead general and his battle. I felt my face grow warm with a slight blush as I became embarrassed for her and her inability to answer the question. She must have been paying as much attention to the lecture as I had been. Finally, she was able to formulate a less than mediocre answer that satisfied the monotone voice at the front of the room and the lecture resumed. Another glance back at the girl and I saw the cell phone palmed in her left hand down by her side. She had been text-messaging someone instead of paying attention!