This week, there really wasn't much that we learned at all. It was just a week to work on our projects, read for SSR, and do creative writing. So, really, I didn't really learn anything at all. The only thing that I can really think that I learned was something about the project. I don't know what that is, but I'm sure I can think of something that I learned from it.
One of the things that stuck out the most to me this week was doing work with my table as a group for our essays. To me, it always feels good to work as a team because you have people to rely on to help you. You aren't alone in trying your best to do good with what you are doing. It also really pushes me to try my best with what I am tasked with doing, because I know that I can't let my team down in doing what I have to do. And I don't want to be that person who doesn't do the work that they said that they would do, leaving the other members of the group to do more work than they were originally going to do. I wanted to make my group members happy with the work that I did, and hopefully that's what I did this week, because I really did try my best with what I said I would do. This week was not the easiest to write about, since the week was all just reading and writing. But, with the help of my group, I wrote what I needed to write, and I feel pretty good about it. Plus, it's just fun working with a group. Working with other people is good for me because it's just fun to have people around you and support you. Plus, if you aren't doing work, you can laugh and goof off, even if it's not what you are supposed to do.
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This week in class, there wasn't really much we learned about. It was all about working on our projects or doing creative writing. The thing that stuck out the most to me was the poem "My Papa's Waltz" by Theodore Roethke. It just was all that really stuck with me this week, really. When I first read this poem, I thought it was just about a child getting abused by their drunk father, but it was being covered up with dancing terms. Plus, that's one someone from the hour before me said, so I went into the poem just thinking about that. But, going back to a few blog posts ago and talking about working together and analyzing the poem deeper, I found that it could also just be a kid and a dad dancing together. When everyone as a class talked about it, it was brought up that they could just be dancing. And the more I read the poem and continued to talk about it with my table, I was torn between what I thought it was. At this point, I still don't know which one it is. I'm still kind of leaning towards abuse, but defiantly more towards the middle of the whole thing now. Maybe that's just how it's supposed to be. The author wrote it so you had trouble figuring out if it was about abuse or just dancing. In the end, this blog was more just about looking at deeper meaning again. I really didn't want to write about this again, but honestly, I just couldn't think of what to write. It kind of sucks, but I tried. This week has been really one of the most chaotic weeks of the year for me. I barely got any reading done, I didn't feel like I learned anything in any of my classes, and I didn't know what was going on half of the time. But, at least I had a good time at homecoming. Coming up with a topic for this blog was hard, but I think I got it, so just pray for me. This week, one of the most memorable things that we did was the "I remember" creative writing prompt. Normally, I just use the creative writing time as a way for me to release my feelings or just rant, so pretty much like a diary. But this time, I decided to go with the prompt and see where it took me. While everyone seemed to take it in a way where they wrote a couple of memories, and then picked one to go into deeper detail in, I just kept writing more and more memories. I wrote happy ones, sad ones, exciting ones, boring ones. The list goes on and on. It really was one of the longest creative writings I ever did, which was over 500 words in about 15 minutes. While I enjoyed remembering all these memories from my head, it happened every once in a while where I would write a memory that felt very personal to myself. Something that I didn't really want to write out, because of the fear that someone would read it and judge me for it. But at the same time, it felt good to write something that I held to myself for a long time down.It felt like a little weight was off of my chest. Of course, there's still the horrifyingly heavy weight of anxiety on my chest every single time I enter the school, but writing things down still felt good. This week, it helped learn that writing down my feelings is something that I might want to do more often, instead of keeping them inside of me, just to grow. If I don't feel comfortable enough to tell someone these things, then maybe writing them down can help me feel better. If this can help me lower my stress levels, then hopefully I can pick it up as sort of a hobby. |
AuthorJust a senior trying to survive his last year. Archives
November 2017
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