It was the afternoon, and my class was sitting down while my teacher, Mrs. Curtin, was speaking to the class. I was in fifth grade at the time, and my school was named Kaneland John Shields. My teacher told my class we were going to a pep rally assembly in a few minutes. Mrs. Curtin commented that we should pack our backpacks, the assembly was supposed to last through the rest of the day. Grade by grade, everyone was called to go to the gym.
Out of the three activities I participate in at Anson High School, the National Art Honor Society would be one that has impacted me the most. When I was first put into the art class my sophomore year, I tried my hardest to drop the course. The reason being is because I knew for a fact I would not be able to fully enjoy the course with my lack of artistic skills. After being in the class for a month and completing my first art assignment, I realized how much talent I actually do possess. A passion for art was quickly created over the course of time.
I was five years old at the amusement park Magic Kingdom in Disney
In 4th grade we were coloring something, I don’t remember what, and I dropped my red colored pencil. It had rolled under a shelf and I decided to get it. Once I reached my hand under the shelf I had stabbed my arm on a nail sticking out. Not knowing this, I yanked my arm out and cut my arm so deep you could see the bone inside my arm. I learned that you can’t go sticking your arm in random places without checking.
The negative treatment and pain I received as a black girl, and still into my adulthood, it amazes me how I'm still standing tall and strong. It amazes me how people have tried to break me, even my own kind, but I'm still here. Truth is I gotta to have thick skin and protect myself, because I got no choice. If I don't... who will? And that is the everyday life of living as a black woman.
Kindergarten, the time when I learned to read and write. On the first day of school, the teacher handed me a laminated sheet of paper. It had words on it, most of them I couldn’t yet read. I could read the basic ones like and, but, is, etc. Later, I learned that the words on that paper are called sight words.
My Acrylic Landscape My landscape acrylic painting is done on canvas, and depicts a cabin in a outdoors environment. The foreground of the landscape consists of a mixture of yellow, green, orange, and dark orange grass. As the viewer 's eyes move up there is a skinny patch of orange, and dark orange grass that passes all the way from the right side to the left. After the skinny patch of orange and yellow grass ,in the middle ground, there is a house that consists of brown, cream, and black.
I was 16 it was the second month of 10th grade. My friends called me at 9:30 pm and asked me if I wanted to hang out with them I said, “sure i’ll be there in 15 minutes.” It was 9:45 when I fled with my truck. Bob, who was my friend, addressed me to his house. When I arrived the air was scented with the smell of roast beef.
I gazed at her slightly parted, rose tinted, lips as my cheeks emitted a soft pink glow. This is the closest I have ever been to her and I could smell the rich milky chocolate ushering through her lips. Clearly she enjoyed my present. My hand carefully hovered above her cheek and slowly moved down caressing her olive skin. Her lips rose into a crescent of satisfaction, mine followed suit.
I am a visual learner, because I like to see what people are talking about. When people just tell me the information my mind has a hard time understanding what they want me to do. I am starting to work on being a reflective learner, but sometimes it’s hard if I don’t understand what the material is over. Most of the time I do know that “why” and the “what for” but sometimes I like that going through a problem and not necessarily think of the reason why behind it but it being more of a habit. I just have a hard time in putting into words “why” and the “what for”.
It was an afternoon right after we had all finished doing our rotations. I was sitting in the top deck of the boat, alone. I decided to go up there because no one was up there and I kind of wanted some alone time. As I was up there, I saw all my classmates having fun. They were jumping off the bow of the boat and going swimming in the ocean.
with big eyes would still be entertained. As soon as the table started to become the paper, mom would stop me and wash off those purple, stained hands. Walls would soon be covered in my non-sense art along with anything else I could touch. But suddenly, at the age of eight, I became focused on other things and forgot about expressing myself.
My feelings toward writing aren 't good nor bad. Writing is something i have had difficulty with in my past. I have no problem brainstorming ideas on what topics to write my assignments on, even if i am given a prompt, but I do have difficulty with sitting down and planning my work. I always find myself getting stuck. So I almost never take the time out to plan out my ideas i come up with.
A couple yards from the playground, a swing set stood swinging in the soft breeze. The grass was a bright green and the sky was cloudless. The air smelled fresh and wonderful. I could still taste the hamburger I had before we had left. I was four years old and my grandma was taking me to the park
It was a regular school day, In Mrs. MCcombs room, 3rd Grade. The only different thing about the day was that we had a substitute, she was pretty strict. But I didn't mind, I didn't think anything of it-at first. When we were doing a silent writing time, I started whispering to my table neighbor, she noticed and told me to stop.
