Hello, Im supposed to be writing a narrative argument for my Writing 101 class. I can't help but feel that there is something wrong with my essay even though I'm not sure what it is. Any help would be appreciated.
For this essay, pick an experience you have had, one that involves some sort of controversy. Then, craft a narrative essay which tells the story of your experience while at the same time making clear your position on the controversial issue. This is a relatively short paper (see below), so make every word count.
It is graded on: Does the essay effectively introduce the event to be introduced? Does the essay include vivid details of key actions, people, and places? Can the reader clearly understand the writer's "position," whether it is explicit or implied? Are the main points of action organized as a narrative--i.e. chronological? Is the essay coherent--i.e. does it "flow" well, are the transitions clear and appropriate? Does the essay end in a strong and satisfactory way? Is the essay "correct" in terms of its usage of grammar, punctuation, spelling, and mechanics?
Second grade was a hard year for me and even though I wish I didn't remember the events that happened I know I can never forget. People say that childhood should be a time of happiness, finding oneself, friends and parties but for me second-grade held none of these promises or hopes. I had a speech problem, dyslexia, and glasses which caused me to be singled out by the other students as a social pariah, one of many untouchables at the school. I had few friends and everyone that I spoke to was an outcast as well, Tyler who had mental retardation, Doug who was in a wheelchair, Lillian who had recently moved here from Mexico and could barely speak or understand English, and Jordan who choose to be an outcast rather than be a part of the bullying.
Most of what I remember from that year was feeling alone and playing with my few friends whenever I could. I wanted to fit in and would try and talk to the "popular" kids when I could but it almost always resulted in being picked on and my tears. The thing that currently outrages me the most is the fact that the teachers would rarely step up and end this cruelty from their students. In fact, I remember my teacher choosing to single me out from the rest of the class just like all of her students did. To find such unkind and cruel treatment from the students was quite a lot to deal with but to have my own teacher treat me differently left me with a sense of despair and loneliness. To be quite honest I don't remember much about second grade except for using any excuse to get out of school and coming home in tears almost every day I went to school.
However, one memory of that school year that I vividly remember is when a group of my classmates choose Tyler, a sweet blonde-haired and blue-eyed friend of mine with mental retardation to be the subject of their "fun" for the day. It was early in the morning on a crisp spring day and I had just arrived at school. Like always I was looking for the few people I knew would accept me and let me play with them. Across the playground I saw Tyler sitting in the dirt with a dazed and confused look on his face with a group of kids around him. At first I couldn't see what was going on but when I got closer I felt anger rear up in my head as I realized they were poking him with sticks. There must have been at least four boys out there jeering at him and poking him as if he was an animal. I felt frustrated and angry not only because of what was going on to my friend but also because of the fact that a bunch of kids would act so cruel and no one else was stepping in to put an end to this problem.
At first I hoped to find a teacher, his aide or some other adult but after a few moments of looking I realized that no one but me was paying any attention to what was going on. I knew than that I alone would have to respond and put an end to my friends torment. Gathering up the small amount of courage I had, I marched over there and grabbed the sticks out of the boys' hands. I then looked at them and told them to stop being mean to Tyler and broke their sticks. Finally, I grabbed my friend and took off away from the bullies to find an adult. I remember after everything happened being afraid that my parents would be mad at me for being mean to the kids and breaking their sticks. However, when I got home my parents told me that I had done the right thing by sticking up for my friend but that it would have been better if I had found an adult.
After that incident I saw Tyler only a few more times since he spent most of his days at home. I later found out from our mutual friend, Jordan that his mother had taken him out of the school. Little did I realize that I would end up leaving the school as well. The final straw was when my teacher singled me out in front of the class and told me that it was my parents turn to grade her papers. Although this had been a common practice in her classroom, it was one that my parents objected to. After I arrived home from school that day and informed my mother that she was supposed to grade papers for my teacher my father went to speak to the principal about all of the issues I had dealt with. In the end it was decided that I would finish out the school year but after that I would be home schooled until high school
Although these were harsh experiences for a child to go through and something I wish was an isolated event, I know that these problems still exist today. My siblings have come home quite often to tell me about students in their schools that are being picked on, left out, and excluded due to something beyond their control. Additionally, my mother who worked as an aid for emotionally disturbed children also dealt with many of the same issues which would occasionally leave her worn out before she even got home. Unfortunately, childhood bullying has been a part of schools for years and will probably continue. Perhaps with the help of educators and parents there will be a decrease on childhood bullying and maybe years from now it will be a thing of the past that no child will ever have to worry about. Childhood should be a time full of friends, fun, and adventures not a time when you doubt yourself and see first-hand the cruelty found within some children and adults.
For this essay, pick an experience you have had, one that involves some sort of controversy. Then, craft a narrative essay which tells the story of your experience while at the same time making clear your position on the controversial issue. This is a relatively short paper (see below), so make every word count.
It is graded on: Does the essay effectively introduce the event to be introduced? Does the essay include vivid details of key actions, people, and places? Can the reader clearly understand the writer's "position," whether it is explicit or implied? Are the main points of action organized as a narrative--i.e. chronological? Is the essay coherent--i.e. does it "flow" well, are the transitions clear and appropriate? Does the essay end in a strong and satisfactory way? Is the essay "correct" in terms of its usage of grammar, punctuation, spelling, and mechanics?
Second grade was a hard year for me and even though I wish I didn't remember the events that happened I know I can never forget. People say that childhood should be a time of happiness, finding oneself, friends and parties but for me second-grade held none of these promises or hopes. I had a speech problem, dyslexia, and glasses which caused me to be singled out by the other students as a social pariah, one of many untouchables at the school. I had few friends and everyone that I spoke to was an outcast as well, Tyler who had mental retardation, Doug who was in a wheelchair, Lillian who had recently moved here from Mexico and could barely speak or understand English, and Jordan who choose to be an outcast rather than be a part of the bullying.
Most of what I remember from that year was feeling alone and playing with my few friends whenever I could. I wanted to fit in and would try and talk to the "popular" kids when I could but it almost always resulted in being picked on and my tears. The thing that currently outrages me the most is the fact that the teachers would rarely step up and end this cruelty from their students. In fact, I remember my teacher choosing to single me out from the rest of the class just like all of her students did. To find such unkind and cruel treatment from the students was quite a lot to deal with but to have my own teacher treat me differently left me with a sense of despair and loneliness. To be quite honest I don't remember much about second grade except for using any excuse to get out of school and coming home in tears almost every day I went to school.
However, one memory of that school year that I vividly remember is when a group of my classmates choose Tyler, a sweet blonde-haired and blue-eyed friend of mine with mental retardation to be the subject of their "fun" for the day. It was early in the morning on a crisp spring day and I had just arrived at school. Like always I was looking for the few people I knew would accept me and let me play with them. Across the playground I saw Tyler sitting in the dirt with a dazed and confused look on his face with a group of kids around him. At first I couldn't see what was going on but when I got closer I felt anger rear up in my head as I realized they were poking him with sticks. There must have been at least four boys out there jeering at him and poking him as if he was an animal. I felt frustrated and angry not only because of what was going on to my friend but also because of the fact that a bunch of kids would act so cruel and no one else was stepping in to put an end to this problem.
At first I hoped to find a teacher, his aide or some other adult but after a few moments of looking I realized that no one but me was paying any attention to what was going on. I knew than that I alone would have to respond and put an end to my friends torment. Gathering up the small amount of courage I had, I marched over there and grabbed the sticks out of the boys' hands. I then looked at them and told them to stop being mean to Tyler and broke their sticks. Finally, I grabbed my friend and took off away from the bullies to find an adult. I remember after everything happened being afraid that my parents would be mad at me for being mean to the kids and breaking their sticks. However, when I got home my parents told me that I had done the right thing by sticking up for my friend but that it would have been better if I had found an adult.
After that incident I saw Tyler only a few more times since he spent most of his days at home. I later found out from our mutual friend, Jordan that his mother had taken him out of the school. Little did I realize that I would end up leaving the school as well. The final straw was when my teacher singled me out in front of the class and told me that it was my parents turn to grade her papers. Although this had been a common practice in her classroom, it was one that my parents objected to. After I arrived home from school that day and informed my mother that she was supposed to grade papers for my teacher my father went to speak to the principal about all of the issues I had dealt with. In the end it was decided that I would finish out the school year but after that I would be home schooled until high school
Although these were harsh experiences for a child to go through and something I wish was an isolated event, I know that these problems still exist today. My siblings have come home quite often to tell me about students in their schools that are being picked on, left out, and excluded due to something beyond their control. Additionally, my mother who worked as an aid for emotionally disturbed children also dealt with many of the same issues which would occasionally leave her worn out before she even got home. Unfortunately, childhood bullying has been a part of schools for years and will probably continue. Perhaps with the help of educators and parents there will be a decrease on childhood bullying and maybe years from now it will be a thing of the past that no child will ever have to worry about. Childhood should be a time full of friends, fun, and adventures not a time when you doubt yourself and see first-hand the cruelty found within some children and adults.