School
Sometimes Educators See What Parents Don't See
No matter how involved parents are in the lives of their children, sometimes they are unaware of things that go on in their child’s lives. Because teachers and other school officials work with them for extended periods and nearby, they observe things through their lens.
By Dr Deborah M Vereen4 years ago in Confessions
I Wrote An Essay On Christopher Columbus
If you live in the Maryland area and you read the Gazette newspaper with the headline "Germantown Girl wins state essay winner" You would see on the front page a photo of this sixteen-year-old girl holding a certificate with her family, her then-principal, her school counselor, career center counselor and people from the DAR (Daughters of the American Revolution). That "Germantown Girl" in the picture in the Gazette was me. I was a high school junior writing a 1,200-word essay on Christopher Columbus and won the essay contest. After the win, I made the local news and made it on the front page. But here's the truth behind the whole contest that made the local Maryland news, what happened after I won, what did I do with the "prize money" and the HONEST TRUTH of the winning essay.
By Gladys W. Muturi4 years ago in Confessions
Finding Community As a Biracial Korean Female
Merriam-Webster defines a community as "a group of people living in the same place or having a particular characteristic in common." As a biracial Korean-German female who grew up as a Third Culture Kid, it was not easy to find a long-term community. Living on three continents by the age of 14 and moving every five years made it difficult to plant roots and cultivate friends. Life became transitional, and I learned how to become a chameleon.
By Nancy B4 years ago in Confessions
A New Wardrobe Is Not Everything
I walked through the school, wearing low high heels, brown, straight points in front, and soft materials. I just got these shoes new. It was my birthday that week before. I loved walking in those shoes. I never thought about how to pair those shoes with good-looking jeans, or any other clothing pieces.
By Agnes Laurens4 years ago in Confessions
Compassion: A Theory
Do you remember when you were a student and had to write an exam in a classroom or, possibly, a gymnasium? Do you remember the stress you felt trying to remember the material that you had studied over the semester, or the material that you crammed into your head a few days or the night before sitting in front of that test? Do you remember watching your teacher walking up and down between the desks and tables, checking to see if anyone had any questions, concerns…or hidden notes and answers in their palms or up their sleeves? Do you remember anyone getting caught and having their paper taken away and the opportunity to pass erased? I do; I remember all of this. And, for a few semesters when I worked as an invigilator during university exams, I saw it all from the other side.
By Kendall Defoe 4 years ago in Confessions
My First grade Teacher gave me cPTSD
I have complex post-traumatic stress disorder(cPTSD). I got this condition from elementary school, where I was the victim of verbal bullying. The most problematic years were first and fourth grade, but it was not exclusively those years. I’ll be talking about first grade, as it created the condition. The rest of the years I was in public district school were rough, but they did not spark the condition, they only added to it, preventing me from healing.
By Ben Ray 4 years ago in Confessions
When You Don’t Know Gay
When I was growing up there were certain things that were taboo. I was brought up in a very southern Baptist family. My grandmother had taught Sunday school for 40 plus years at that point. Believe me, my family was and is a loving family but there were many things we did not understand or were even familiar with.
By William Frick4 years ago in Confessions
Building Castles
High school in a small town may have been boring for some, but I enjoyed it. My favorite class was English, because we had the most amazing teacher ever, Mrs. Pedersen. She loved what she taught and she loved us. I’m not sure why or when it began to be a thing, but myself and a few friends started eating lunch in her classroom. We would run to the small grocery store a few blocks from the school, during our lunch break, grab a loaf of bread and a few packages of lunch meat. We’d swing by the deli department and take some of the free mustard and Mayo packets before checking out. Then, we would head back to the school and downstairs to Mrs Pedersen’s room to sit and visit, while we munched on thrown together sandwiches.
By Viltinga Rasytoja4 years ago in Confessions
Love Note
I don’t remember whose idea it was, Suzanne’s, Fiona’s, or mine. The three of us did everything together that year. We were in Form 2, the British equivalent of 8th grade. My family had moved to Dunedin, New Zealand in the middle of a US school year when I was in 7th grade. I’d had two summers that year, one in the States and one in New Zealand. I had always been a year younger than everyone in my class because my birthday fell at the end of the traditional cut-off date. Now I was the same age because of the reversal in seasons.
By Natalie Wilkinson4 years ago in Confessions
Diary of an Unkempt Mind
It was our second test of the first semester of the medical field. I was so sure that I could pass it. I spent two days studying; three if you count the actual test day. Plus, a portion of the time, we were given the option to look up answers. Sounds like a breeze, right? Well, the good news is Everyone passed with flying colors! The bad news? That’s everyone except me. Surprisingly the only worst part I feel about failing a test is lying to my classmates about my score. Then of course next class, we have a different instructor so there’s the reopening of the wound.
By Nichole L Deppe4 years ago in Confessions
How I Raised Rs 15,000 Within Three Hours, Being A Student!
Recklessness is an attribute most of us could easily associate with our student lives. But, putting it in a better way, maturity has not yet arrived, as we are still young. So, I will share a story from my student life, a tale about phases of developing maturity!
By ankit priyadarshi4 years ago in Confessions
