Original Memo
Since, I am not a very good writer I was pretty surprised how easy it was to write this narrative. I feel like I did a pretty good job of showing not telling, since I have never heard of that technique before. I would say using a lot of detail was a strength of this paper. Detail is usually a problem for me; I saw improvement in this narrative from my papers in the past. Also, I think my interest for this topic is shown throughout the entire narrative, which allows the reader to connect with my writing. My paper was also structured in a way that made it comprehendible to the reader; I tried to avoid jumping around to add clarity to the narrative. I struggled with the wording of this narrative the most. Since, I do not typically use a lot of detail in my paper, using the extra words made some of my sentences too long or too wordy. A few sentences made it hard for the reader to comprehend what I was saying and took away from the clarity of the narrative.
The peer review group was very helpful throughout the process of writing my narrative. They helped correct a lot of my wording issues by pointing out sentences where I had to many words/details, or issues where I may need to separate sentences to add clarity. I had a lot of sentences in my introduction and second body paragraph that were too wordy because I was trying to be too detailed. My peer review group kindly pointed out these errors for me to fix them. Also, a member of my group suggested I change the last sentence of my last paragraph because the sentence I used was to generic/ cliché. She also gave me an alternative sentence that worked really well as my last sentence of my narrative. A member of my peer review suggested I add more detail about the IB program. I tried to incorporate a few more details to provide a better understanding for the reader, but for the most part I had to ignore the suggestion. When I tried to add more detail about the IB program it took away from the flow of the paper and it seemed like it didn’t belong.
The peer review group was very helpful throughout the process of writing my narrative. They helped correct a lot of my wording issues by pointing out sentences where I had to many words/details, or issues where I may need to separate sentences to add clarity. I had a lot of sentences in my introduction and second body paragraph that were too wordy because I was trying to be too detailed. My peer review group kindly pointed out these errors for me to fix them. Also, a member of my group suggested I change the last sentence of my last paragraph because the sentence I used was to generic/ cliché. She also gave me an alternative sentence that worked really well as my last sentence of my narrative. A member of my peer review suggested I add more detail about the IB program. I tried to incorporate a few more details to provide a better understanding for the reader, but for the most part I had to ignore the suggestion. When I tried to add more detail about the IB program it took away from the flow of the paper and it seemed like it didn’t belong.
personal narrative
"a do over"
Emily Bronte wrote, “Your veins are full of ice and mine are boiling” in her novel Wuthering Heights. Although, this quote may seem slightly overdramatic it describes my feelings toward my 8th grade English teacher during one of the longest grading periods I have ever experienced. I strolled into 8th grade thinking that I would have an easy year full of straight A’s, hanging out with friends, soccer, and cheerleading. I was dressed to impress and ready to make the most of my last year in middle school along with the rest of my eager classmates. I walked to my English class to see a smiling teacher who was dressed in floral printed Lilly Pulitzer pants, Mrs. Kathy Proctor, who little did I know would change my educational career forever. She always flashed a smile to every one she came in contact with and strived to make the classroom a cheerful and positive learning environment. She put out soft, brightly colored, pink and blue lawn chairs in the place of a few, rickety desks and plastered colorful posters all over the wall. There was an exception of one poster, Wuthering Heights, which hung dismally on the pale, concrete walls. That poster stood out among the rest for being dark and dismal. A disgruntled man and woman with piercing eyes stood in front of a fiery red sky and disturbingly appeared to be glaring into the class. “I am going to challenge you all as readers” exclaimed Mrs. Proctor on the first day of classes. My heart soared immediately at the thought of getting to read amazing new books. I thought to myself that I loved this teacher and there was no way anything could go wrong in this 8th grade English class. I was wrong. Half way through the year I began to read Wuthering Heights and it changed everything for my English education.
My passion for reading did not help the despair I was about to experience when Mrs. Proctor handed me a thick, black copy of Wuthering Heights. Reading through the exceedingly, long pages of the novel, I stumbled across the complex vocabulary that was far beyond my comprehension. Every time the old paperback book was opened in front of me a look of perplexity immediately crossed my face as I searched for the meaning behind the story. The basic concepts of the novel were far too complex to comprehend. Standing in front of the class, observing the thirty blank stares looking back at her, Mrs. Proctor would try to summarize the story while playing the song “Wuthering Height” by Kate Bush in attempt to provide some clarity. Everyday I faced the dark, drab cover of Wuthering Heights as “Heathcliff, it’s me, I’m Cathy, I’ve come home” blared through Mrs. Proctor’s old timey cd player and pray to put the book away and never encounter it again. Bitterness consumed me as I started hating English because of the traumatic experience this book had brought into my eighth grade year of middle school. She would get up in front of class everyday and try to convince our angry, confused minds that she was trying to better us as students. I was convinced it could not get worse until fear struck my eyes when the hardest test I had ever seen was laid on my desk.
Mrs. Proctor was known for her more than complicated tests that she gave after a class read. Her tests consisted of quotes, character descriptions, short answer questions, and an essay. The quotes and descriptions filling the page included every small detail and seemingly irrelevant point of the novel and successfully intimidated me. My exam was not filled with correct answers, but covered with eraser shavings as I racked my brain for the correct answers. Devastation hit me as Mrs. Proctor laid a paper with a large, red “D” at the top. My classmates and I, who usually had no problem comprehending literature, had tests consumed with red “X’s” marking the multitude of wrong answers. We were all convinced that Mrs. Proctor was setting us up for failure. The book was far beyond the reading abilities of a normal 8th grader and she had to be aware of that. Reading this book scarred me and when the dreadful experience was over, I was thrilled and determined to avoid Wuthering Heights at all costs. Not only did I fail the test, but I failed at avoiding Wuthering Heights and I was faced to confront the dreadful book once again when I was a rising high school senior.
My summer was not consumed with lying out by the pool, soaking up rays of sunshine or visiting colleges to begin planning my future, but I dedicated my summer to the enormous amount of summer homework that was due the first day of school of my senior year. Math workbooks, biology lab manuals, and Jane Eyre piled upon my desk and at the bottom is where the dreaded Wuthering Heights was tucked away. Mrs. Proctor had transferred to high school teaching and I was scheduled to face her class everyday my senior year in her IB English Class. IB is similar to the AP program, except it is designed to be more difficult. IB had dominated my junior year; my days were spent being overwhelmed by homework and exams. Wuthering Heights remained at the bottom of my pile of schoolwork for the majority of the summer. Anxiously waiting what was too come from Mrs. Proctors test, I picked up the same black copy of Wuthering Heights, but this time something was different.
Wuthering Heights was no longer the same. The brilliant words of Emily Bronte leaped off the page as the story and characters came alive. I was instantly involved in the story, loving characters or feeling remorse for them when misfortunate events occurred. Wuthering Heights no longer appeared as an obstacle I was not capable of managing. Mrs. Proctor had accomplished her goal, I made progress as a student and as I confidently approached the doors of my high school I was prepared for the difficult exam to come. It was like I was in 8th grade again; Mrs. Proctor was smiling and eager to teach. The classroom walls were painted sunshine yellow and the same posters were still plastered on the walls, even the Wuthering Heights poster. The poster did not display a dreadful, disturbing couple, but a love story that I had grown attached too. Two people appeared to be longingly staring into the room in front of a beautiful red sky. Absorbing the perspectives of others during the class discussion it was clear I wasn’t the only one who had a better experience reading the book. Then laid in front of me was not an intimidating of list of quotes and descriptions, but meaningful memories retained from the thick, black book. This time my test was labeled with an “A” and a yellow smiley face sticker.
I had not only earned a good grade, but I had a rewarding reading experience. After my 8th grade year I had several bad experiences in English class and I started to lose my passion for reading and Wuthering Heights restored that and it did so much more. The novel changed my entire perspective on reading. It taught me to be an involved reader. I was able to relate to what may seem to be unrealistic characters and story lines. I learned to search through the pages of a novel for deeper meanings to be able to take from a story while still being aware of details that may not seem to be important. I was not able to see what all Wuthering Heights had taught me until I read the novel a second time. Sometimes a do-over can change your opinion, even on something that seems as awful as Wuthering Heights.
My passion for reading did not help the despair I was about to experience when Mrs. Proctor handed me a thick, black copy of Wuthering Heights. Reading through the exceedingly, long pages of the novel, I stumbled across the complex vocabulary that was far beyond my comprehension. Every time the old paperback book was opened in front of me a look of perplexity immediately crossed my face as I searched for the meaning behind the story. The basic concepts of the novel were far too complex to comprehend. Standing in front of the class, observing the thirty blank stares looking back at her, Mrs. Proctor would try to summarize the story while playing the song “Wuthering Height” by Kate Bush in attempt to provide some clarity. Everyday I faced the dark, drab cover of Wuthering Heights as “Heathcliff, it’s me, I’m Cathy, I’ve come home” blared through Mrs. Proctor’s old timey cd player and pray to put the book away and never encounter it again. Bitterness consumed me as I started hating English because of the traumatic experience this book had brought into my eighth grade year of middle school. She would get up in front of class everyday and try to convince our angry, confused minds that she was trying to better us as students. I was convinced it could not get worse until fear struck my eyes when the hardest test I had ever seen was laid on my desk.
Mrs. Proctor was known for her more than complicated tests that she gave after a class read. Her tests consisted of quotes, character descriptions, short answer questions, and an essay. The quotes and descriptions filling the page included every small detail and seemingly irrelevant point of the novel and successfully intimidated me. My exam was not filled with correct answers, but covered with eraser shavings as I racked my brain for the correct answers. Devastation hit me as Mrs. Proctor laid a paper with a large, red “D” at the top. My classmates and I, who usually had no problem comprehending literature, had tests consumed with red “X’s” marking the multitude of wrong answers. We were all convinced that Mrs. Proctor was setting us up for failure. The book was far beyond the reading abilities of a normal 8th grader and she had to be aware of that. Reading this book scarred me and when the dreadful experience was over, I was thrilled and determined to avoid Wuthering Heights at all costs. Not only did I fail the test, but I failed at avoiding Wuthering Heights and I was faced to confront the dreadful book once again when I was a rising high school senior.
My summer was not consumed with lying out by the pool, soaking up rays of sunshine or visiting colleges to begin planning my future, but I dedicated my summer to the enormous amount of summer homework that was due the first day of school of my senior year. Math workbooks, biology lab manuals, and Jane Eyre piled upon my desk and at the bottom is where the dreaded Wuthering Heights was tucked away. Mrs. Proctor had transferred to high school teaching and I was scheduled to face her class everyday my senior year in her IB English Class. IB is similar to the AP program, except it is designed to be more difficult. IB had dominated my junior year; my days were spent being overwhelmed by homework and exams. Wuthering Heights remained at the bottom of my pile of schoolwork for the majority of the summer. Anxiously waiting what was too come from Mrs. Proctors test, I picked up the same black copy of Wuthering Heights, but this time something was different.
Wuthering Heights was no longer the same. The brilliant words of Emily Bronte leaped off the page as the story and characters came alive. I was instantly involved in the story, loving characters or feeling remorse for them when misfortunate events occurred. Wuthering Heights no longer appeared as an obstacle I was not capable of managing. Mrs. Proctor had accomplished her goal, I made progress as a student and as I confidently approached the doors of my high school I was prepared for the difficult exam to come. It was like I was in 8th grade again; Mrs. Proctor was smiling and eager to teach. The classroom walls were painted sunshine yellow and the same posters were still plastered on the walls, even the Wuthering Heights poster. The poster did not display a dreadful, disturbing couple, but a love story that I had grown attached too. Two people appeared to be longingly staring into the room in front of a beautiful red sky. Absorbing the perspectives of others during the class discussion it was clear I wasn’t the only one who had a better experience reading the book. Then laid in front of me was not an intimidating of list of quotes and descriptions, but meaningful memories retained from the thick, black book. This time my test was labeled with an “A” and a yellow smiley face sticker.
I had not only earned a good grade, but I had a rewarding reading experience. After my 8th grade year I had several bad experiences in English class and I started to lose my passion for reading and Wuthering Heights restored that and it did so much more. The novel changed my entire perspective on reading. It taught me to be an involved reader. I was able to relate to what may seem to be unrealistic characters and story lines. I learned to search through the pages of a novel for deeper meanings to be able to take from a story while still being aware of details that may not seem to be important. I was not able to see what all Wuthering Heights had taught me until I read the novel a second time. Sometimes a do-over can change your opinion, even on something that seems as awful as Wuthering Heights.
Second memo
Going off of my review done by you I made a lot of changes to my narrative. I did not realize after writing the original version that I was lacking a lot of detail. I had troubles figuring out how to “show” some aspects of the story, but you reminded me in one of your comments that I could use emotions to show the story. For example, in my original narrative I was not showing how reading “Wuthering Heights” was traumatic, I was simply stating it. Using words such as bitter, traumatic, and confused helped me show the story more. Where I added the most showing was discussing Mrs. Proctor’s classroom environment, taking the test for the novel, and spending my summer reading the novel for a second time. I only added about three extra sentences to each paragraph, but it really allowed me to show my story. For example, instead of saying “I failed the test” like I did in the original version of the narrative I said, “ Devastation hit me as Mrs. Proctor laid a paper with a large, red “D” at the top.” I added a lot of “showing” to this project, which greatly enhanced it’s quality.
Before you reviewed my paper I had never noticed I begin my sentences in a very similar manner. You pointed out in one paragraph that I repeatedly started my sentences with “I”. “I had to do this, I had been overwhelmed, I procrastinated, I anticipated.” This repetitiveness that was only in one paragraph made me realize how choppy my writing sounded and there was no way it could possibly appeal to an audience. I went back and really edited my whole narrative. I started adding variety to sentence structures and adding detail where I felt like more “showing” needed to be done. Not only did I complete your suggestions in places that you felt were needed, I took your suggestions and applied them to my entire narrative. Dennis also peer reviewed this project and pointed out that my conclusion was a little weak, so I went back in and added more detail and clarity. Editing this paper really showed me how much I have grown as a writer and it embodies the goals of this class. It pointed out my original weaknesses, which I then tried to make my strengths. I am very happy with my newly edited version and I am confident it is one of my strongest pieces of writing I have ever done.
Before you reviewed my paper I had never noticed I begin my sentences in a very similar manner. You pointed out in one paragraph that I repeatedly started my sentences with “I”. “I had to do this, I had been overwhelmed, I procrastinated, I anticipated.” This repetitiveness that was only in one paragraph made me realize how choppy my writing sounded and there was no way it could possibly appeal to an audience. I went back and really edited my whole narrative. I started adding variety to sentence structures and adding detail where I felt like more “showing” needed to be done. Not only did I complete your suggestions in places that you felt were needed, I took your suggestions and applied them to my entire narrative. Dennis also peer reviewed this project and pointed out that my conclusion was a little weak, so I went back in and added more detail and clarity. Editing this paper really showed me how much I have grown as a writer and it embodies the goals of this class. It pointed out my original weaknesses, which I then tried to make my strengths. I am very happy with my newly edited version and I am confident it is one of my strongest pieces of writing I have ever done.
“I have dreamt in my life, dreams that have stayed with me ever after, and changed my ideas; they have gone through and through me, like wine through water, and altered the color of my mind. And this is one: I'm going to tell it - but take care not to smile at any part of it.”
― Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights