arnie the ant
Every time I try to think why I decided, when I was young, to become I doctor, I would always remember the Science Award I received back in seventh grade. It was my very first award since coming to this country and I remembered being so excited because I actually got a medal for it, not just some piece of paper that says how good at science I was. And I try to think back as to how I got that award.
I remembered Mrs. Tullis, my science teacher who had short white and curly hair, and my horrible class. And I remembered the day I truly impressed her, which, in my opinion, prompted her to nominate me, and, I suspect, she showed the other teachers my work, which in turn voted me to received that award. She divided the class into groups and we were supposed
to write a short piece about arthropods and present them in class.
At that time, I didn't trust my group (I didn't trust anyone, as a matter fact) because they spent most of the group time chatting about the basketball game and some other stuff I never understood. I ended up writing the entire piece. It was an epic poem titled, Arnie the Ant, written in iambic pentametter, complete with an aabb rhyme scheme.
I wasn't in school that day we presented, but I remember the next day, when my disgruntled group told me that the piece was too long (two pages of seventh grade iambic pentameteric glory). But Mrs. Tullis told me differently. She came up to me after class and told me that it was the best piece she has ever read. And she never gave it back, that old hag.
Happy Friday!
I remembered Mrs. Tullis, my science teacher who had short white and curly hair, and my horrible class. And I remembered the day I truly impressed her, which, in my opinion, prompted her to nominate me, and, I suspect, she showed the other teachers my work, which in turn voted me to received that award. She divided the class into groups and we were supposed
to write a short piece about arthropods and present them in class.
At that time, I didn't trust my group (I didn't trust anyone, as a matter fact) because they spent most of the group time chatting about the basketball game and some other stuff I never understood. I ended up writing the entire piece. It was an epic poem titled, Arnie the Ant, written in iambic pentametter, complete with an aabb rhyme scheme.
I wasn't in school that day we presented, but I remember the next day, when my disgruntled group told me that the piece was too long (two pages of seventh grade iambic pentameteric glory). But Mrs. Tullis told me differently. She came up to me after class and told me that it was the best piece she has ever read. And she never gave it back, that old hag.
Happy Friday!