Thursday, December 3, 2009

Sneeze! Cough! Gasp!(aro)


Too be copletely honest, Mr. Paul Gasparo really did impress me. I remember the day I sat in front of my computer typing in his name of ratemyproffesor.com, but didn't find anything. I went ahead and signed up for his class. And that decision became a very smart one. Expecting the class to be simple because it was the introductory level english class, and because it was a TCC class, was nothing of what I expected.

Mr. Gasparo got started right away. We began writing papers from the start. He kept everyone on their feet. There was never a break, always had some form of writing to do or work on. He lead us to explore the blogs that I am writing on right now, that I wasn't to familar with until now. He showed us how to write an argument paper and annotated bibliography, which I had never done before. I wasn't sure how to begin and write those papers, but everything was explained in class, and he was always willing to help on the papers. The best thing about paul was that he used blackboard to its advantage. He posted everything you could imagine on blackboard. He gave us student examples, prompts, rubrics, and even had recorded classes in a podcast tab. I felt like that was the easy way for us to recieve information.

Overall, this class was a great experience. It was a pleasure to recieve my english credit under a good english teacher. I recommend this teacher to other students thinking about taking English 111. I am usually very skeptical when it comes to teachers, but paul definitly did his job and more.

Newly Revised Essay


Some say it happens over a long period of time. Some say it happens after their first love. Some believe it happens when you move out and you're on your own. And for some it never happens. But for me, I became a man the day I left Virginia Beach for the very undervalued country of Honduras. The trip still remains so evident from the first steps off the plane to the last time I inhaled that dry honduran air. The trip was the spring break of my sophomore year. And for me, I had dreamed of being paralyzed on my couch as I watch T.V. , ate food, and slept as much as I pleased. But my parents had something else planned, and it didn't involve cheese puffs and season 3 of Seinfeld. The trip that I dreaded so much, indirectly, had easily been the best vacation that a 16 year old high school student could ask for.


The first moments in Honduras were full of frustration and confusion. Aside from the fact that I hated the spanish language, I never thought I would find myself in the crossfire of spanish dialect in the middle of an airport. I remember scanning the room hoping that there was someone that spoke a lick of english, as I waited so impatiently for my brother to pick me up. My brother was a missionary down there, and luckily spoke fluent english and spanish. He finally reached me before I drowned in the unfamiliar waters of the Honduran airport. We hopped inside of the beat up jeep that would bring us back to where we would be staying. In the United States, they teach us how to drive safely and follow road signs and regulations. If you could break every rule or law that the U.S. set up, you would thrive on the streets of Honduras. I never thought I would climb out of that car with all my limbs still attached, but we did.


Spending little time in the shelter that we slept at, we have a full plate ahead of us. Rarely, I had time to stop and think about where I was, and what I was doing. It was a non-stop itinerary, and something I was not expecting. We went around to villages to help those in need of resources and health attention. In retrospective, I thought that I would be most moved by the intense experiences. But, I wasn't. It was the petty things that had the most affect on me. One very clear image I have is of this little girl that had been shy and was left out of the rest of the kids groups. She attempted to climb up this mango tree that would have been merely impossible for Yao Ming to even climb. But she was determined to reach the fruit at the top of the tree. She spent all afternoon climbing, refusing help from anyone. She finally had become an arms length away from one of the fat, juicy mangos. It dangled and so did she, as she leaped and clinched onto the fruit as she hit the ground below her with much force. As I expected her to sink her small little teeth into the huge mango, she began to hesitate. She then headed over to where I was sitting and approached with the mango held out to me. She placed it into my hands and gave me a hug. That's when I realized so much. I realized I was free from a cellphone, email, Television, and all the other technology that I consumed my time with back at home. I had never felt so free in my life. And that's when I knew what life was really suppose to feel like. The trip had reached its hiatus and felt like it would never digress. Or at least, when I found myself in the airport again but this time I was leaving.


I threw my bags on the scanner debating if I wanted to just stay in Honduras and never return. Too bad I had two more years of dreadful high school to finish. I left Honduras convinced that I would return again. I came back to Virginia Beach changed forever. I left as a boy, and came back as a man


Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Diagnostic Essay

Diagnostic Essay


There are many countries that don't receive the recognition that it deserves. And I experienced that in the first person. The trip to Honduras was the spring break of my sophomore year. And for me, I had dreamed of doing many exciting things with my high school friends. But my parents had something else planned, and it didn't involve any of my ideas of fun.. The trip that I dreaded so much, would become, easily been the best vacation that a 16 year old high school student could ask for.


I never thought that I would enjoy the country. My brother was a missionary down there, and he spoke fluent english and spanish. We took a car to the place we would stay. He finally reached me before I drowned in the unfamiliar waters of the Honduran airport.


I never had time to stop and think about where I was, and what I was doing. The trip kept me on my feet, and never let me rest. We went around to villages to help those in need. I thought that I would be most moved by the intense experiences. But, I wasn't. It was the petty things that had the most affect on me. One experience I have is of this little girl that had been shy and was left out of the rest of the kids groups. She began to climb up this tree but she was struggling. She was determined to reach the fruit at the top of the tree. She spent all afternoon climbing, refused any help from anyone. She became very close to the fruit. It dangled and so did she, as she grabbed the fruit and fell to the ground. I expected her to eat the fruit right away. But she didn't. She placed it into my hands and gave me a hug. I realized I was free from a cellphone, email, Television, and all the other technology. I had never felt so free before. And that's when I knew what life was really suppose to feel like. The trip had reached its its high and I felt like it would never digress. Or at least, when I found myself in the airport again but this time I was leaving.


I wanted to stay in honduras, never to return. Then I realized that I had two more years of high school. I left Honduras convinced that I would return again. I came back to Virginia Beach changed forever.