Today we practiced our Possessives once again. Hopefully all this practice is showing you how to write more efficiently and accurately. Remember, because we don't see you on Friday, your quiz on Possessives will be on Thursday.
The rest of the class period was given to you to work on your Miss Caroline Project. Remember, this will be the LAST test grade of the term. This could either make or break you. Make sure that you take the time this week to get this project done. Because we are giving you the entire week to get it done, we expect that it will take that long to complete and expect greatness from each and every one of you. If you're a strong writer, this should be fun and an enjoyable experience. If you hate writing, take this as an opportunity to improve your writing skills and play around with language.
Hopefully, today's writing exercises helped. Use these to help guide you in your writing.
Here's Mr. Hannah's sample that we went over yesterday:
Let's write a sample together...
There is nothing like it. As long as a I can remember, these days are unlike any other day of the year. Feelings bubbling up inside me range from butterflies in my stomach to the euphoria that can only be matched by Christmas morning. The first day of school has always been that way for me.
When I went to bed, my clothes were set out and pressed, all of my toiletries were in place, and my school bag was packed full of the books and hand-written lessons I had worked tirelessly to prepare.
The night before I could not sleep. My lessons had been planned, but over and over again in my head I mapped out how my students would look, how the lessons would go, how much light I would bring to their little lives. I would take these little sea urchins from the depths of the murky oceans to the see all of the light at the surface, to higher knowledge and understanding.
I stared at the ceiling for what felt like hours until the sun peeked its head between the curtains of my tiny window. I sat up and imagined for a moment that I was still at home in North Alabama. That was until the stench of rancid smell horse manure and burning eggs kicked me like a mule from my fantasy. In hind sight, this should have told me that...well, you will see.
Having dress and readied for my first day, I descended the steps of my boardinghouse into the living room area. The house's owner, Miss Maudie, greeted me from her parlor room chair with a heartfelt, "Good Morning, Miss Fisher." I responded respectfully, "And to you."
Seeing this full-figured middle-aged woman always confused me. When I would leave in the morning she was dressed like a common field worker in gardening dungarees, something I would never be caught dead in. In the afternoons when I returned, it was as if she transformed into a proper lady complete with silk and laces. This was much more respectable in my opinion. These women in Maycomb, if you can call them that, really are out touch with those of us in the real world.
Making my way down the street which felt more like trudging through red molasses, I tried to avoid the...animal waste that litters most of Maycomb. These mounds of horse chips smelled like a cross between old rotten broccoli and sweaty men. If it was not for the oil of mint that I sprayed on my neck this morning as a I dressed, I do not know how I could have kept from turning up my nose as a walked past the pale, faded wooden houses of this dull old town.
For the life of me, I do not know what possessed me to choose this job when most of my classmates were finding work in Birmingham and the sort. I suppose unlike them, I feel that everyone should have the opportunity to read and write even children like these ones.
As I entered the schoolyard, I was shocked by the small creatures I saw running around the schoolyard. Dingy, ill-fitting shirts, pants so tightly fitting that they rose past their ankles. One could almost call the knickers. Hair matted and oily from a mixture of dirt and sweat. Permanent sweat stains in the areas of their armpits. Many of them had not even bothered to wash the dark ash of off of their faces. If I had not looked closely, I would have thought the citizens of Maycomb actually allowed niggers to attend their schools.
The morning bell rang, and these little animals headed into the school building. I said simple prayer that most would end up in Miss Blount's class and not mine. As soon as I entered the room, I realized very quickly that God would not be on my side this day. He was testing my faith.
I cleared my throat with a simple ahem, and they quickly moved to their seats and planted themselves. My fears were wrong, I remembered thinking to myself, they at least have some version of manners. I wrote my name on the board in my best print as all exceptional teacher do, and introduced myself. I told them a little about where I am from so that they would know how privileged they were to be getting a teacher trained in the current methods of education.
Get working on this project!
DEETS:
In-class:
--Morphology
--DEAR
--Possessives
--Miss Caroline Project
HW:
--Work on Miss Caroline Project
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