I am thriving in this setting. I feel like I am doing things that matter. I know I am learning significant things. Taking trips to the Library, up and down the isles, looking for books. Searching through Indexes and Footnotes, I can not help but appreciate the quality of learning I am getting. Not required but definitly needed to continue on here. It is the type of learning I need to have before I take any steps further. The idea that I will not be able to present anything to the class by the end of the symester, is an idea I am not very pleased by, but from the looks of it, we would not have much to present.
I guess I will just need to sit back and take it all in. Learning Reflections are on the horizon. Christmas Ho!
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Taking the Time
Ok, so I suppose I have been thinking quite hard about Aquinas in a whole. The philosophy, the system of intrigue it seems to have, and rather than dive into what happened in class between the professors and I, or expressing my opinions on how I effected others, I will simply just tell a story.
It was the first day of grade 11, and the two English teachers at the time, Miss Blanchette, and Miss Watson, were a pair of old hippies who obviously had a nack for pointing out how bad every one of their students were at English. Grade 11 was the grade everyone was afraid of going into, basically for the reason that they would be taking English with one of these two. They were a scary pair of woman with their moth filled clothing, and ugly hair.
The first english class was with both of them standing at the front of the classroom with a stack of paper as high as the desk, almost literally. They were exams. They were 100 question, 8 page, peices of hell, with simply one sentance as each question, which u would need to pick out what was wrong (or not wrong) and write it on the side. I literally almost shit myself looking at it, and trying to go through it knowing I would surely fail.
And I did....with flying colors.
15 out of 100 was my final score on the test, and when I looked at it, I hung my head low, put my head on the desk, and nearly cried. I was also not the only one. 85 percent of the class failed that exam. The teachers simply gave it to us, and let us leave the class for the day. As I left the room, I could feel this overwhelming sense of doom. I did not feel like learning where I made my mistakes, I did not feel like correcting anything, I did not feel like learning more about punctuation or spelling or anything to improve if I were ever presented with a similar situation. I did not want to learn. Simply because I felt like I was already a fool.
It was the first day of grade 11, and the two English teachers at the time, Miss Blanchette, and Miss Watson, were a pair of old hippies who obviously had a nack for pointing out how bad every one of their students were at English. Grade 11 was the grade everyone was afraid of going into, basically for the reason that they would be taking English with one of these two. They were a scary pair of woman with their moth filled clothing, and ugly hair.
The first english class was with both of them standing at the front of the classroom with a stack of paper as high as the desk, almost literally. They were exams. They were 100 question, 8 page, peices of hell, with simply one sentance as each question, which u would need to pick out what was wrong (or not wrong) and write it on the side. I literally almost shit myself looking at it, and trying to go through it knowing I would surely fail.
And I did....with flying colors.
15 out of 100 was my final score on the test, and when I looked at it, I hung my head low, put my head on the desk, and nearly cried. I was also not the only one. 85 percent of the class failed that exam. The teachers simply gave it to us, and let us leave the class for the day. As I left the room, I could feel this overwhelming sense of doom. I did not feel like learning where I made my mistakes, I did not feel like correcting anything, I did not feel like learning more about punctuation or spelling or anything to improve if I were ever presented with a similar situation. I did not want to learn. Simply because I felt like I was already a fool.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
so uh...pirates?
Sinse my last journal I have learned that pirates use eye patches to keep one eye focused in the dark when they decent into the lower decks to slay enemy cannon crews, while the other eye is focused to the light. I have also learned that pirates kept parrots as pets because it was the closest thing to a personal lasting relationship with another living thing than they could get.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
