Hey guys! So I worked on this essay for quite some time and then decided I wasn't too fond of it, so began working on another one.
However, after my English teacher saw both drafts of my different essays, he told me I should definitely use this one.
I am applying ED to Hamilton College in a couple of days and Hamilton is big on writing!
Please give me ANY feedback at all-seriously, ANY!
Thanks :)
"Teacher, teacher, teacher, teacher." I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and turned to my right. "Yes, Michelle?" "How long until class is over?" She had just asked me five minutes ago. When I first started teaching ballet at the YMCA, I did not expect a big challenge. I thought that because I was so well-trained in ballet and had such an extensive experience working with kids, I would easily be able to do the job; Michelle, with her non-stop talking, proved me wrong. Every two minutes, Michelle felt the need to tell the entire class her every thought and every two minutes, Michelle made my job more difficult. It became habitual for me to get angry at her. I couldn't understand why she constantly talked and worse, why she was late all the time. I learned to ignore her and I turned my attention to the other girls in the class. Little did I know, I was about to embark on a rough journey.
It was only my third class when I came face-to-face with Michelle's reality. We were 20 minutes into class when Michelle's mom rushed in with Michelle, scrambling to put her daughter's dripping wet hair up into a messy bun, saying "Disculpe maestra (sorry teacher,) we had to walk again." I watched as Michelle, pink-cheeked and embarrassed, shuffled in with her muddled bun and grimy ballet shoes. Her mom did not turn around to hug her good-bye; she did not turn around to blow her a kiss or to wish her good-luck. She simply nodded towards me and only then, did I finally understand Michelle's harsh reality: at home, she was invisible and dance class was her only opportunity to be noticed.
Throughout the eight weeks, I learned to be patient with Michelle. Whenever she came to class late, I never gave her my usual angry face. Whenever she talked, I would not ignore her or get mad; I would simply remind her that we were in a ballet class and that while in class, we cannot talk. After class, I always made sure to ask her how she was feeling and what her plans were for the rest of the day. I gave her the opportunity to let out everything on her mind without disrupting the ballet class.
Michelle taught me that teaching is more than being well-trained; teaching is about patience and growth. In teaching there is no getting mad or judging the student; it is about getting to know the students, being able to identify with them, and not shutting them out because you do not wish to work with a certain type of student. In order to successfully teach, one needs to know where the student is coming from and strive to understand them on a personal level. Then, and only then, can one say, "I was successful."
However, after my English teacher saw both drafts of my different essays, he told me I should definitely use this one.
I am applying ED to Hamilton College in a couple of days and Hamilton is big on writing!
Please give me ANY feedback at all-seriously, ANY!
Thanks :)
"Teacher, teacher, teacher, teacher." I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and turned to my right. "Yes, Michelle?" "How long until class is over?" She had just asked me five minutes ago. When I first started teaching ballet at the YMCA, I did not expect a big challenge. I thought that because I was so well-trained in ballet and had such an extensive experience working with kids, I would easily be able to do the job; Michelle, with her non-stop talking, proved me wrong. Every two minutes, Michelle felt the need to tell the entire class her every thought and every two minutes, Michelle made my job more difficult. It became habitual for me to get angry at her. I couldn't understand why she constantly talked and worse, why she was late all the time. I learned to ignore her and I turned my attention to the other girls in the class. Little did I know, I was about to embark on a rough journey.
It was only my third class when I came face-to-face with Michelle's reality. We were 20 minutes into class when Michelle's mom rushed in with Michelle, scrambling to put her daughter's dripping wet hair up into a messy bun, saying "Disculpe maestra (sorry teacher,) we had to walk again." I watched as Michelle, pink-cheeked and embarrassed, shuffled in with her muddled bun and grimy ballet shoes. Her mom did not turn around to hug her good-bye; she did not turn around to blow her a kiss or to wish her good-luck. She simply nodded towards me and only then, did I finally understand Michelle's harsh reality: at home, she was invisible and dance class was her only opportunity to be noticed.
Throughout the eight weeks, I learned to be patient with Michelle. Whenever she came to class late, I never gave her my usual angry face. Whenever she talked, I would not ignore her or get mad; I would simply remind her that we were in a ballet class and that while in class, we cannot talk. After class, I always made sure to ask her how she was feeling and what her plans were for the rest of the day. I gave her the opportunity to let out everything on her mind without disrupting the ballet class.
Michelle taught me that teaching is more than being well-trained; teaching is about patience and growth. In teaching there is no getting mad or judging the student; it is about getting to know the students, being able to identify with them, and not shutting them out because you do not wish to work with a certain type of student. In order to successfully teach, one needs to know where the student is coming from and strive to understand them on a personal level. Then, and only then, can one say, "I was successful."
