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Supposedly Smart “Nope, that’s wrong. Come on, you know this. The question isn’t that hard,” she grumbled in frustration. “Who’s next?” I squirmed in my seat, feeling her eyes wander past me, then back again. Don’t pick me, don’t pick me. “Lily.” And she had to pick me. Great. Everyone in the class looked at me. “Explain the events of the Big Bang up until the arrival of water on Earth.” I looked up at the board, the deep blue screen with the question projected onto it. The golden words glared at me as I processed the question and the brown border on the slide was crisp and sharp, just like her gaze that had landed on me. I cracked my knuckles nervously, turning to my group for answers, but all I saw were their blank stares. “Uh…” Why do teachers always pick me when I don’t know the answer? My day started out okay, pretty normal, nothing out of the ordinary. I breezed through all my earlier classes, began my homework, and even ran the mile, but …show more content…
“You can pack up now, but remember, for homework you have to finish your Big Bang Essay and study for the test on Friday.” A test on Friday? Why would anyone want to ruin a perfectly good Friday? The volume of the class suddenly increased as everyone started packing up their notebooks and pencil pouches and discussing the final question at the end. “You should have been able to answer that question, you know,” a boy at my table announced loudly, “you’re Asian. You should be smart.” “Well you didn’t know the answer either,” I retorted, rolling my eyes, “and you’re Asian too.” I used his words against him, even though I knew it wasn’t the right thing to do. He shrugged, “but you’re supposed to be smart.” “Whatever.” I grabbed my stuff and left the table, not saying another word, and went to find someone to talk to. I walked over to Emily, who had heard my previous
“Stop spacing out, Mr. Anderson,” Mrs. Sorun said, who had thrown a paper wad at my head. “Part of your grade is listening to what your peers have to say and right now you’re failing.”
In this paper I will be sharing information I had gathered involving two students that were interviewed regarding education and their racial status of being an Asian-American. I will examine these subjects’ experiences as an Asian-American through the education they had experienced throughout their entire lives. I will also be relating and analyzing their experiences through the various concepts we had learned and discussed in class so far. Both of these individuals have experiences regarding their education that have similarities and differences.
I walked in and my stomach made a flip-flop like riding “The Scream” at Six Flags. Everyone was staring at me! With their curios eyes and anxious to know who I was. I froze like ice and felt the heat rise through my face. My parents talked to my teacher, Ms.Piansky. Then my mom whispered “It’s ti...
When I walked in Ms. Shannon’s class I introduced myself and told the kids to pretend I wasn’t in the class. I sat in the back an...
The only connection I had to my Asian culture was my slightly darker, olive skin; my eyes that didn’t quite open as wide as the eyes of others around me; and the occasional conversation between my mom and her family in mandarin. This void was filled easily by the Asian jokes that seemed to follow me wherever I went. Whether within the walls of my school, throughout my neighborhood, on the sports field, and even within the walls of my own home; the constant reminder that I was Asian haunted me. I was so used to hearing steryotypes like, I should be extremely smart or a horrendous driver, that I began to share these jokes thinking that this was how I would embrace my race, my family, and myself.
“No, not really why? Is something wrong?” I asked, sounding more bothered than what I actually was.
here.” We persisted: “How do you know that 's true?” Judging from this student 's quizzical
“Then who? Why did you need to go downstairs, if it wasn’t a secret you intending to keep from me.” Jacqui seemed so eager to know. She sat up and faced me.
Sybll looked back at him with a sneer, “So what? We need answers and this is how we will get them.”
“One more thing,” I halted. Waiting for her to add on. “You can't kill anyone,” the request took a moment to register.
"What I think," he laughed humorlessly through gritted teeth, "is that it doesn't matter. None of this does." His teeth were bared
As our class was released, I saw everyone pouring into the halls where they discussed the new assignment. I headed to my study hall in an o...
As a student, you may have thought of cheating on a test or quiz. Perhaps you have considered cheating to avoid staying up an extra hour to study the night before an exam to instead finish watching a series on Netflix. I learned that cheating is wrong the hard way when I was in high school to avoid staying up that extra hour. This essay will discuss my experience in detail, including how I prepared for the test, what happened, how the conflict was resolved, and my thoughts and emotions throughout.
This entire time I hadn’t uttered a single word. Ms. Strehl made an announcement, “Class we have a new student joining our class. She has had a long travel and so please make her feel welcome.” She turned to me, “Why don’t you introduce yourself and tell us more about who you are.” I nodded and looked in front of the 20 pairs of eyes on me, that belonged to my new classmates. I spoke, “Hello, my name is Devyani Kurup and I just moved from London, England.” Several of my classmates spoke in hushed tones while staring at me with their curious faces. I continued speaking about me and quickly finished summing about my life story. Suddenly, a hand rose from the gathering of little kids. Her name was Kate and asked about why I talked funny. Growing up in London, I adopted a thick British accent, something Americans found either intriguing or annoying. I explained that I spoke British English which resulted with an accent. After answering numerous questions about me, I was exhausted and finally allowed to go back to my new assigned seat. The class was much different in all aspects and much more engaging than the private school I formerly attended. Time quickly passed and soon it was time for lunch. I carried my new lunch box with pride. It was a Disney princess lunch box adorned completely with little jewels. I adored Disney princesses and at the young age had always dreamed of growing up as one. Timidly, I