Thursday, December 3, 2009

Course Reflection: Eng 111

English 111, or more commonly known as Eng 111, had its ups and downs. I felt that my professor, Paul Gasparo, was very clear in explaining his expectations from day one. Coming straight from high school to my first college English class, I did not realize how important it was to follow his course expectations until the middle of the semester. If I had kept slacking off and continued to fall behind I would have failed his class outright. I appreciate that he would stay up late online to assist us and answer any questions we had. Instead of failing us on the spot for turning in an assignment incorrectly, Mr. Gasparo would send emails warning us to correct the mistake and to resend the file the way he wanted. He would try to lighten the learning environment by starting off a few of the days with humorous YouTube videos (and yes, even though the videos were meant to make us laugh and feel that his class was not an “all serious and no fun” type of course, the videos were relevant to what we were learning at the time.)

However, I hated the word counts; for example this blog has to be 600 to 900 words. To me, that can be counterproductive. An old English teacher I had back at Floyd E. Kellam High School, warned us about a strict English professor who teaches at Tidewater Community College and uses word counts instead of other methods for his assignments. She was not keen on that particular method. She preferred a number of pages or paragraphs for essays because she believed that students would put more effort into actually writing the essay instead of just throwing in as many words as it would take to meet the number of words required. Of course, I cannot quote her exact words, but it was basically what she tried to tell us. I agree with my old high school English teacher’s opinion regarding this method. I believe that if a student is told to write an assignment by page length rather than a certain number of words they will be more expressive and put more meaning into their essay. For example, when we had to put together a rhetorical analysis in exactly 900 words, no longer and no shorter, I felt as if I had to stretch out or shorten statements to reach the exact 900 words required. However, the purpose of using word counts taught us how to be disciplined in presenting our thoughts through limiting or expanding the number of words we use.

I also did not enjoy having to turn everything in on time (I was not the best at doing so.) If we sent in an assignment late, we would receive a “1” no matter how hard we worked on the assignment or what grade the assignment would have received had it been on time. Such a policy on late assignments discouraged me from finishing any incomplete work. Unfortunately, even one incomplete assignment would result in failure in his class. However, getting in the habit of turning assignments in on time would be beneficial in preparing us for the real world. In his class, if we procrastinate and not meet the deadline, we fail the course; in the real world, if we do not meet our boss’s deadline, we can lose our jobs.

My advice for those who plan on attending Mr. Gasparo’s Eng 111 class is to learn how to manage time wisely. Time management is invaluable in his class, plan ahead and stay on task. Take it from me, I learned the hard way.

Final Diagnostic Essay: Jumper

The piercing sounds from the alarm clock rung throughout the room; I struggled as I began to part myself from the entangled sheets which had secured me in my previous slumber. The next thing I knew I had found myself sitting in the same plastic off-white desk which I always sat in since the first day of school. This wasn’t a dream, nor was it a mind trick formed by boredom. I distinctively recall feeling the comfort of my own bed underneath my resting body, the sound of my ferrets’ nails scratching their paws into the plastic floors of their cage, the melodic music which surrounds me as I sleep. This was something different; something merely impossible for a human being to accomplish (or that of any life form on earth to be frank.)

As I grew curious of what had happened that morning I began to question if it was even real. It sounded as if I had superpowers. But go around telling even a single student on campus that and they would believe you’re nothing but a nutcase. “Be reasonable,” I had told myself “if I truly had superpowers I would have been able to perform such acts of the supernatural behavior before; wouldn’t I?”

By the end of the day I had become tired and just wanted to go home. Waiting for my ride was killing me. I had become grumpy and annoyed after I received a call from the person who was supposed to pick me up half an hour after the time we agreed upon to meet up. I was told that I would have to find another ride home since they had forgotten about the carpool that day. By now all I could do was imagine lying in my bed and recalling how comfortable I had felt that morning. I closed my eyes and dropped my bag along with everything else I was holding. There was no noise. The stillness of silence became my escape from the stressful day. Serenity filled the air, time stood still. I felt as if I was where I wanted to be, home. I slowly re-opened my eyes and noticed a completely different environment surrounding me than that I was in previously. The grin on my face turned into a great smile of joy and amazement. In a blink of an eye, I found myself in my bed, reaching for the sheet to cover my tired body. This was not a dream; I realized that I have the ability to teleport my physical body to a new location desired by my mind through time and space! No longer would I have to worry about being late for anything anymore.

The world seemed to become much smaller and more accessible to me now; I can be in Paris for lunch and have dinner in China if I merely desire to do so. My mind started to wonder about the possibilities of such a gift. Can I teleport myself into the past, witnessing the bygone history by my own eyes? Can one, having the knowledge of the past history, change its course? How about the future and my ability to inject myself into its realm? The idea of being the sole survivor of my generation sent a chill down my spine. The sights and the changes of atmosphere from here and there had made me dizzy. The early excitement of such a powerful ability started to weigh me down. It was such a fun discovery to teleport myself into my room, into my comfort zone; to have the capability to change history because of having the knowledge of its outcome ahead of time was disturbing to me.

I felt exhausted mentally, letting my mind have a tour of possibilities. I lied down and fell asleep. A new picture started to occupy my mind, only this time it was just a dream.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Jumper

The piercing sounds from the alarm clock rung throughout the room; I struggled as I began to part myself from the entangled sheets which had secured me in my previous slumber. The next thing I knew I had found myself sitting in the same plastic off-white desk which I always sat in since the first day of school. This wasn’t a dream, nor was it a mind trick formed by boredom. I distinctively recall feeling the comfort of my own bed underneath my resting body, the sound of my ferrets’ nails scratching their paws into the plastic floors of their cage, the melodic music which surrounds me as I sleep. This was something different; something merely impossible for a human being to accomplish (or that of any life form on earth to be frank.)

As I grew curious of what had happened that morning I began to question if it was even real. It sounded as if I had superpowers. But go around telling even a single student on campus that and they’d believe you’re nothing but a nutcase. “Be reasonable,” I had told myself “if I truly had superpowers I would have been able to perform such acts of the supernatural behavior before; wouldn’t I?”

By the end of the day I had become tired and just wanted to go home. Waiting for my ride was killing me. I had become grumpy and annoyed after I received a call from the person who was supposed to pick me up half an hour after the time we agreed upon to meet up. I was told that I’d have to find another ride home since they had forgotten about the carpool that day. By now all I could do was imagine my bed and how comfortable I had felt that morning. I closed my eyes and dropped my bag along with everything else I was holding. There was no noise. The serenity of silence in which became my escape from the stressful day had become too peculiar. I felt as if I was where I wanted to be, home. I slowly re-opened my eyes and noticed a completely different environment surrounding me than that I was in previously. The grin I had placed upon my face earlier was now the great smile of relief. My eyes re-closed and I reached over my shoulder for my bed sheet. This wasn’t a dream; I had discovered the ability to teleport. No longer would I have to worry about being late for anything anymore.