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Mental effects of bullying on children
Mental effects of bullying on children
Mental effects of bullying on children
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In Elementary School when I was learning how to read and write I experience what felt like the worst days of my childhood. I will never forget those days because I felt worthless and didn’t believe that I would make it through school. My first grade teacher at Fultondale Elementary School started noticing that it was difficult for me to read and write, so she pulled me aside from all the other students to see what I was doing wrong. As this continued I felt more and more like an outcast to my classmates. I remember the teacher calling my parents one day to set up a conference about what strategies they could use at school and home to help me grasp the contents of both reading and writing. At that point I was then diagnosed with a learning disability in both reading and writing as well as mathematics. At the end of my first grade year the teacher and principal advised my parent to hold me back into the first grade or otherwise I would fail the second grade due to lack of reading and writing skills, So like most caring parents would do, mine chose to hold me back to see if I would improve on reading as well as writing. It was extremely hard for me because at this age I was being made fun of for not being like the other students. My second year in the first grade began, my new teacher had set me up with a resource …show more content…
This went on all the way through Fultondale High School. I always wished I could’ve been as educated as the students I was around because they could comprehend material faster than I could. I was always the last one finished with my class work, and during group activities I felt left out because the others worked at a fast pace. I can replay in my head all the times I was made fun of or asked why I always was leaving the classroom with another teacher by other students, so I would just make up a lie. I felt this way all during my Elementary School
There were 45 children in my class. At that point of my life, I had a stutter, a lazy eye, and buck teeth with an overbite. The school provided me with an adult to help me with learning how to communicate, interact with other, learn to read aloud, and teach me some techniques to help me control my stutter. I had trouble with reading comprehension, math, and all the other subjects because my stutter affected the way I learn and process information. Even though I experienced a lot of diversity the teacher that I had did not have enough time to interact with me one-on-one which I needed to strive to my highest potential. My parents and I decided that I needed a smaller class size in order for me to be successful. My parents when searching to find a the perfect school and they found Woodcrest Schools. Woodcrest Schools is a small, private school in Tarzana, CA. The school went from preschool to fifth grade. I started Woodcrest in second grade. There were twenty-one students in my class. Woodcrest Schools provided me with the attention and help I needed. My teacher helped me before school, during school, and after school when I needed help. She always asked me if I did not understand the material. I in second grade also had trouble with math, reading comprehension, and writing. When it came to math, I did not understand the difference between multiplication & addition and division &
As a young child in elementary school, I struggled in the regular classes of language arts and math, and this caused my teachers to put me into Special Education. I recall hearing the regular students call me “stupid” all the time behind my back. When I had my regular classes in Social Studies or Science none of the other students wanted to be my partner in the group projects. I felt like an outcast, and my self-confidence was exceedingly low. However, I knew that I was not the smartest kid, but I was a hard worker. I begged my mom to help me convince the teachers to allow me to to join the regular classes in the 5th grade. Fortunately, my teachers agreed, and in my regular language arts class I was motivated to prove to my teachers, my classmates,
I am sitting in my bed, thinking about my process of writing as I am trying to go through it. It seems the more I think about it, the less I understand it. When I am writing, I don’t think. Which I know, sounds bad. But, I spend every single moment of every single day over thinking, over analyzing, and over assuming every aspect of my life. When I’m writing, I’m free from that for just a little bit. Until of course, my hands stop typing or the pencil (no pens- never pens) stops moving, then I’m right back on the carousel that is my brain. Heidi Estrem says, “...writers use writing to generate knowledge that they didn’t have before.” (Writing is a Knowledge-Making Activity 18). I believe my ability to write without an exact destination
When I was in the first grade, every week the students did reading board where they sat in the hall outside the class and the teacher told us to read as many words as possible. This reading board created great anxiety and resentment toward my classmates proper spelling and word usage. When I misspoke, or used a word incorrectly, the teacher placed me in a lower reading level than my peers. I was upset because, my friend kept moving up and I was still stuck in first grade reading level. I learned that I had a learning disability, which would be the greatest challenge in my life.
As a child, my parents worried about my educational development. They didn’t know if I was going to be able to keep up with the other children. I was in the third grade and didn’t know any English. I struggled academically my remaining elementary years to catch up with the other children, but it wasn’t long until I exceeded my peers in middle school. Adversity has been part of my life since elementary school.
As we arrived, my stomach started to turn inside out, and I wasn’t sure why, but I knew when that happens I turn into a nervous wreck. They sat me in the hallway as they chattered about me I was assuming. On our bumpy car ride home, my parents stopped through an ice cream shop, knowing that’s a way to cheer their little boy. They sat me down and told me about how the teacher is concerned with my low-level reading and writing skills. It bothered me very much, that the teacher had never said anything to me one on one. My parents told me that I might be held back, and to stay positive and don’t let this bring you down. This caused so much confusion and discouragement for a seven year old boy. I was still in discomfort after the day reading because of how the kids laughed when I read my
When it came about reading and writing I've never liked either of them. I always proffered math or any other subject in general since they always seemed less challenging and gave me less of a hard time. I never used to read anything and when it came to writing I
For example, it did not hit me until my junior year that I needed to get my grades together. All of my close friends were being admitted into National Honor Society and I was left out. It made me feel dimwitted, as if I was frowned upon. “This is it,” I remember thinking to myself, “I am going to do better and do my absolute best.” I started with putting school first. Hanging out with friends and everything else became a privilege and reward for every good grade I made. Let me tell you, it is not easy. My auditory processing disorder has also prevented me from hearing important things that are helpful to my learning ability. I learned that I need to move myself to front of the classroom and focus. I have given it my all, this past year and my
It has been really difficult for me because I have a learning disability. I struggle a lot in Math and English as well. Having this disability is horrible because i can’t learn as fast as the other students in my class and i’d get embarrassed to be asking the teacher for help over and over again. To overcome this I started advocating for myself which i couldn’t at first but one of my teachers, Ms.Lowe was the one who taught me how to advocate for myself. She is the one who influenced me throughout High School.
Growing up, I was always insecure about my academic performances because I was about a year younger than most of my classmates. My reading was underdeveloped, and my teachers were concerned about my ability to read more mature literature. To aid my reading disabilities I was placed in an intermediate class. However, the class did not push me into the level I was expected to be. In other words, they "babied" me and have me read at the "level" I was capable of. So like any other American school, they just push you along to the next grade. It wasn't until I started the fourth grade, and I was shown the power of reading independently. I used my struggles to read, as my motivation to excel in reading.
School was a challenge for me when I was younger, and I was that student who was always at the back of the pack. When I wasn’t in the classroom, I was either in a Special Ed class or practicing word and letter sounds with a speech teacher. Someone had to read my test out loud and I had additional time to complete them. I was two reading levels behind everyone in my year. And then fifth grade happened. I had these impressive co-teachers who were very involved with my studies, and I was able to show my strengths in math. Never before did I consider I was advanced in any subject, but there I was. English was still a mighty foe that held a resent against me; probably for the countless times I butchered the language.
Throughout high school my experience as a writer fluctuated quite a bit. Over the years I took many different english classes which included General English, English Composition, Language Arts, and Adolescent Literature. Personally, I believe writing is an important part of education. Each class incorporates writing into their curriculum somehow, whether we were writing research papers, book reports, essays, or speeches.
Throughout my life, reading and writing were a positive thing because of the support from the people around. I was never really the confident or extroverted type of person back in the day. This then caused me to be anxious when I read or be doubtful of what I wrote. I can still remember breaking balls of sweats and tensing up whenever I had to read something aloud in elementary. It was a pretty big social problem for me but I can also recall many times where I was laughing and having fun while doing something with reading or writing with my mother. Although there have been many things that affected me so far in my literary journey, my mother has been the most supportive and impactful person to me by reading short stories, going to the library, and giving me writing prompts. One of the activities I liked to do before I fell asleep was to read.
There are many different types of events that shape who we are as writers and how we view literacy. Reading and writing is viewed as a chore among a number of people because of bad experiences they had when they were first starting to read and write. In my experience reading and writing has always been something to rejoice, not renounce, and that is because I have had positive memories about them.
A very harsh and personal experience that I have recently gone through was the fact that I am 18 and in the tenth grade, they held me back for a second time. I thought I was never going to make it..