An Inspirationally Destructive Red Pen
When children first start school they begin a new extensive journey, first meeting all new people and then having to learn a broad array of new things. One of those new things is how to read and also write. Teachers start out slow by having students write in big capital letters on funny looking red and green striped paper, next moving on to cursive letters with still that same silly paper. After a short while the students are on their own, writing notes for classes, notes to friends and family, along with research papers and stories for their teachers in school. And that is where my story begins, room 216 on the second floor of Pottsville Area High School.
School had just started; it was the fall of my sophomore year. I was excited about having new teachers and being able to boss around those little freshmen since I had finally lost that ridiculous title of “freshy.” Although one class did turn all that excitement right into knots in my stomach, it was English 10. Ugh I hated English, partially because I could never remember all those rules of writing, which I had just thought of as “dumb.” I figured, “Why would I ever need to know all them? Computers will be able to fix all my mistakes for me!” As I would soon find out, boy was I ever wrong. Surprisingly, class was going good; our teacher Mr. Mieckowski seemed to be a little weird and quite boring at times but all in all not too bad I mean who isn’t boring occasionally? He had a shiny head with very little hair and never wore long sleeves to class. He was also quite tall and skinny, so everyone had his or her own conclusion about Mr. Mieckowski’s personal life. A lot of the time this ended up being the topic of conversation for his students, along with his hatred towards icicle lights, white reindeer, and especially technology; the thing I loved most.
We spent most of the first month in Mr. M.’s class just going over “the infamous page one” as he liked to call it and just reading some great pieces of literature, including Of Mice and Men and Julius Caesar. Then one winter day, we all came into his cool green room and sat down, chatting with our neighbors as usual until the bell rang to signify the start of class. When the bell rang, our teacher began talking about our upcoming assignments; he told us we would be writing 3 essays during the next couple weeks. I cringed when I heard that; I hated writing essays. He then told us we would have 3 days in class to work on each of them, then at the end of the period on the third day they must be handed in. My heart sank! “There goes my straight A’s,” I said to myself. The next day in class he went over the format he would like his assignments done in and some basics on how to write a paper properly. He began by telling us his papers are only one paragraph long. This included at least 5 sentences, which were a topic sentence, 3 details to support the topic sentence, and a clincher...