From as far back as I can remember, I’ve always hated writing and this examination reminded me of just that. It has always been a burden on the right side of my back. My grandmother would continuously force me to write my name and read long books at a tender age. Shoving this information in my head was mind-numbing and repetitive at the time and that memory of boredom is etched into my mind permanently. As time passed, she forced me to do more than that. I had begun writing sentences from the uninteresting books.
Fast forward to the third grade. My life changed forever with one trip of a teacher to the chalkboard and one phrase, “Write a story on..”. I blatantly believe, this is what developed my hatred toward writing of any sort as a child in primary school. What made everything worst, she never even taught me how to write. On most days, I never knew exactly, what she looked for in a writing assignment. I was that student who would always slip through the cracks and fly under the radar. …show more content…
Throughout my junior school years, I moved to a whole different country; United States of America. It all began in the month of September where faces were new, people were mean and my race served no purpose. Since I was a Bahamian, nobody wanted to talk to me or even come close to me. I had no clue as to why people were so cruel. I would spend almost every break by myself and not to mention, when it was time for group projects, I was also alone. I would constantly complain that I want to go back home and my parents used to tell me almost every day, “Boy, stop worrying. Soon you’ll have friends just like everyone else.” Of course I did not believe them, because it was their job to make me feel better. However, the day came when I gained respect from my
Fast forward to the third grade. My life changed forever with one trip of a teacher to the chalkboard and one phrase, “Write a story on..”. I blatantly believe, this is what developed my hatred toward writing of any sort as a child in primary school. What made everything worst, she never even taught me how to write. On most days, I never knew exactly, what she looked for in a writing assignment. I was that student who would always slip through the cracks and fly under the radar. …show more content…
Throughout my junior school years, I moved to a whole different country; United States of America. It all began in the month of September where faces were new, people were mean and my race served no purpose. Since I was a Bahamian, nobody wanted to talk to me or even come close to me. I had no clue as to why people were so cruel. I would spend almost every break by myself and not to mention, when it was time for group projects, I was also alone. I would constantly complain that I want to go back home and my parents used to tell me almost every day, “Boy, stop worrying. Soon you’ll have friends just like everyone else.” Of course I did not believe them, because it was their job to make me feel better. However, the day came when I gained respect from my