Remember that an online article needs a strong opening. You can leave your main idea to the second or third paragraph (called the "nut graf"). Concentrate on attractive prose to draw the reader in!
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A place for Writing 12 students to read each other's writing, to critique, to suggest, to improve.
About Me
- Brad
- Former adult teacher who loves island beaches. Happy homebody and family man; once devoted dog owner, now without Tashi, my Tibetan Terrier. I prefer the absurdity of the imagination to the absurdity of imagining nothing.
10 comments:
Article for "On Writing" Section
The Value of Regular Writing Practice
Students writing, lips pursed in concentration, in a quiet so complete you can hear the clock’s tick on the wall. The English 11 and 12 classes are taking part in an in-class writing session at the Pearson ALC.
Essays I marked this week recounted student experiences with learning English, and many of them mentioned a need for regular practice. The stakes have to be high, however, so I make in class writing count (though not for as much early in the term as in the final weeks). Thus, that pin-droppingly quiet concentration that leads, I believe, to far better results in the long run.
A time limit concentrates the mind. Dawdling procrastination is costly when it leads to a loss of course marks. My students know this and respond accordingly.
But what of the argument that writing is “recursive,” implying a lengthy process of revision and fine tuning that leads to the finest work a student can manage? The answer to that is to do both; I allowed two weeks to write the essay but also, regularly, test them with an in-class assignment.
It could be boring, but careful choices of material make sure it’s not. Topical essays written by fellow Canadians on topics as diverse as a favourite but imperfect teacher or the impact of the present recession serve to motivate students. They see themselves reflected, so everyone has something to say.
Next week, students respond to their first short story. This year, I reversed my usual course and taught poetry first, while, at the same time, introducing students to the integrated quote and, most importantly, having something worth saying. With a poem of only 150 words, the task of selection is easier to handle and most students picked up the basics.
I’ll keep on asking my classes to write as much as possible every week and intend to make sure of that by using in class writing, regular contributions to our blog and frequent out-of-class assignments. By writing more, each student will build on and practice skills regularly, making their practice perfect with time.
—346 words; first draft
The Cubic Life
One day when I was in grade two, I was punished to stand outside the classroom for not wearing my school uniform again. My teacher said the whole class didn’t look orderliness and she lost face in front of other teachers because of me. It was such a sunny day. I stood outside seeing the catkins drifting from place to place. The warm spring wind gently stroked my face; I thought it was comfortable than sitting inside the dark box and listening to some nonsense.
Having an IQ of 150 and remaining fast-learning didn’t make me in favour of most of my Chinese teachers.
In grade three, once I was detained by my teacher after class for talking without her permission. My mom searched me everywhere after turning dark and eventually found me in school. She scolded my teacher for doing so but not me. The indifferent attitude towards my “bad behaviours” provoked the teacher. After that, she criticised me in any public occasions about my hair and my clothes or my homework and declared me--“a hopeless, bad apple” and my mom—“an irresponsible parent”.
After I entered a top secondary school: I got troubles for breaking class disciplines, refusing wearing school uniforms, having brotherly relationship with boys, punching ear holes and not finishing homework. Teachers’ offices—I visited whenever I wanted to stretch my arm or leg.
My uncle thought I was improper to live with her daughter to give a bad impact of copying me.
I suffered for being myself. I didn’t join the Communism League when everybody did in high school—this almost failed me to become the Chairwoman in university. The instructor made me join it one month before the election and I compromised this time.
Being a Chinese means you have to choose between your personal freedom and the adaption to the environment. You’re supposed to be obedient only. No exception is accepted or expected. The best personality in is no personality. Wearing, talking, thinking . . . anything different may cause you extra attention or criticizing, even a disaster.
The Water Cube –Chinese National Aquatic Center is a perfect symbolism for Chinese society. Individually, everybody is squeezed into a shaped, cubic box contributing together to the society into a massive cube. So the whole society is harmonic and easily to be handled by the ruling class.
After graduated from university, I was arranged a permanent job position in a governmental company by my parents. I resigned within two years and set up my own business—benefited from my “bad personality”, I did well. I still had to face many “cubic people”. Sometimes I thought I escaped. But it wasn’t true. I was still inside, in a different layer only. The cube outside me was bigger therefore I could extend slightly. People around me were same—in bigger cubes and higher layer. This structure is so unshakable and steady.
When people consulted my mom for parenting, she said proudly that I was a good kid since little. My uncle asked her daughter to learn from me as a diligent, disciplining role model. So when I came to Canada, there are so many unshaped people, lovely and free.
Now I love and miss China more than ever. Seeing her far away from another side of the earth, I am attracted by her artificial, orderly beauty.
560 words first draft
Can you imagine how much information people throw on cashiers? They start with simple wish and then non-stop talk about family, finance and life style. I am having problems with chatty people.
It was eleven o’clock, and the store was getting busy. I was working on cash register. My customers were coming continuously.
An old lady, followed by an old man, came to me, dropped her stuff at my till and started talking. “How are you today?” She asked.
I gave a smile and said, “I am fine. How are you today?”
“Well, I am still sleepy. Last night we went to a ladies party and we drank a lot, so now I have a hangover. I am used to drinking a cup of coffee at 10.am, but this morning I found we ran out of coffee.”
In between our conversation she said, “That is not mine. He should pay for it himself”.
The man behind her said, “Would you pay for it? I would give you cash, but I don’t have any today”
She said, “No! You can pay by your credit card.”
He said, “If I am going to use my card then I can bring my other stuff too,” and he went back.
In between I was looking at my other customers trying to give them an apologetic smile. I finished with her. Instead of leaving she waited for him and continued to bug me while standing by my checkout.
“He always loves to shop with my card. And at the end of the month, when I would receive my credit card statement, he would fight with me,” she said.
I looked at her with surprise. “But why?” I asked.
“He is cheap. He doesn’t want to spend his money” she answered.
She said, “Instead of buying his own things, he uses mine. He drinks my liquor, borrows my car and tries to shop with my card. He always tries to save his money.”
Then the man came back with a few more things. I quickly finished ringing through his sale before he said something.
She held his hand and gave me a smile and went out. She was acting like she didn’t say anything against him.
I took a deep breath and whispered, “Thank God she is gone otherwise I don’t know how much more personal information she would dump on me.”
I like friendly people, but there is a limit to everything. People don’t think dumping that much infomation can create problems for them. Rather than open people, I would like to attend wordless People.
“I was like you guys once. . . Beautiful, innocent, and a student, but my boyfriend left me like this,” she broke into tears.
It was a CAPP hour in my high school, a group of women with babies walked into our classroom. I became stiff because here I was, trying to learn how to adapt a new culture and I thought to myself, ‘oh my god, what are they doing in here, aren’t they supposed to be in other building?’
True, they were supposed to be in other building, but that day we were talking about “Condoms, and mishaps,” and our teacher thought ‘what better ways to talk about mishaps by having real examples right next to us, right?’ So here they were, single moms and their children, and I didn’t know what it really means to be a single mom at that time. Of course, I had seen them in my high school going in and out from other building. They all looked fatigued, and sad from all their troubles.
I just thought single moms just meant a middle-aged woman who had a career and she just wanted to have a baby, so all she had to do was adopt a baby or a child. But boy, was I wrong! A single mom, in that case was having a child in high school ages, and it was the hardest thing they had to do because they had to handle housework, schoolwork, manage a part-time job, and of course, they had to take care of their babies.
I was so shocked at hearing this because in Asian culture, there weren’t many single moms, but if they had one, their parents had to hide them, or gave a baby away for disgracing their family. Of course, they didn’t or rather, not encourage them to continue their educations further, and certainly not encouraging us, students not having any classes like that. But, here I am in CAPP hour, studying how not to be another single mom.
After the CAPP hour, I felt as if I was in some weird space and return to the earth, and made just before lunchtime.
The most important thing they left me was; they begged us not to be another single mom, even if how many times boyfriends kept saying, “I love you.”
-374 words; first draft.
Nothing to Fear
“She wouldn’t stop crying; there is nothing I can do to stop her screaming.” Her body trembled; tears burst out from her eyes; all she can think about was to have a time out herself. “I am a failure of my life; I can’t figure out any other way to discipline my child.”
Cindy closed the door behind her and sat numbly in front of her apartment door. Inside, her four years old daughter was still crying, screaming, pounding on the door after realizing she was all alone at home.
Lily has always been a strong willed child; she insisted to poo in her mother’s womb and had her neck strangled three times by umbilical cord due to excessive movements. She insisted to be held every minute at the day time and kept on waking up three times a night and had her mom or dad take her for a house tour before she could settled back into her crib.
Things had gotten worse, during her toddler hood. Whenever she didn’t have the things she wants, he would cry and scream for two hours straight. There was nothing you can do to stop her. Again, this was another battle just like the others.
The poor single man, a guitar player at night club, peeked through next door. “Do you need any help?” annoyed by the noise of the child, he asked again. “Do you need me to call a police?”
“I am so sorry to disturb you, but my daughter just wouldn’t stop crying.” Cindy opened the door, there her poor daughter was still crying inside.
“You need to stop crying, my honey, otherwise, my neighbour will call the police.”
“I don’t want to see police, I am afraid they will catch me.” Cries dropped suddenly
“Yes, they will catch the disobeying child and put them in the prison.” Cindy exaggerated and couldn’t believe how useful this strategy was, “so, do you want to clean up your mess and put all your toys back to the boxes.”
Lily rushed back into her room, for the first in her childhood, she obeyed her mother.
After dropping off lily at preschool, finally, Cindy was going to enjoy two hours of nice and quiet. She went to the acupuncture clinic to treatment her insomnia and migraine. After she settled down on the clinic bed and had forty acupuncture needles inserted into hands and scalp, she felt so relaxed and happy, maybe that was the only time in her life without noises from her daughter.
“Ring, Ring.” Cindy almost jumped up from the bed, reaching out with a handful of needles to pick up the cell phone.
“Can you pick up your daughter earlier?” The voice on the other side of the line became unsettled and angry.
“Why” Cindy knew that something drastic happened.
“Your daughter pushed me today when I asked her to clean up and be ready for the circle time.” Mrs Shannon toned her voice down a little bit to cover the anger. “She also talked to me in a very disrespectful way.”
“Ok, I will pick her up soon, but I have forty needles on me and I need at least thirty minutes”
On the way back to home, Cindy was driving aimless; the only hope of disciplining her child by the Canadian education system has vanished with slap of reality in the face. “I don’t know what to do.” the feeling of helplessness was covering her again like an ocean wave; Cindy struggled desperately like a seaweed not to be pulled back into that desperate ocean.
Suddenly, a bell rang in her mind, “Yes, I can ask the police man to help, perhaps, they are the only person she will be afraid of and start listening.” Cindy parked her car at the police station at Sixth Street and Columbia Street.
“Honey, you haven’t been listening to your teacher; I need to take you to the police station today.”
At once, lily cried and kicked her mother while she was pulling her out from the car. “I don’t want to go, I don’t want to go.” Her 42 pounds of body started shaking.
“No, you have to go, that is the consequence of disobeying your teacher today.”
The episode attracted a patrolling police woman immediately, “Hi, madam, can I help you?”
“Yes, we do. My daughter talked to her teacher today in a very disrespectful way and also pushed her; I need her to go to the police station.” Cindy said.
“Come on in” The policewoman in uniform led them onto stairway and entered into a room with social workers. Cindy and Lily were a bit of nervous when facing the unforeseeable future.
“We need to talk with your daughter privately. Can you come with me.” social worker commanded Cindy to enter another room. She imagined herself being investigated as a criminal. The social worker handed Cindy a cup of water and asked her to sit down.
“So, can you tell me what happened?” The social worker asked calmly.
“My daughter was very rude to the teacher today; I need someone to tell her that was not acceptable. So I brought her here, Can you help me to teach her a lesson, since police station is the only place she is afraid of.”
“I am afraid, we can’t help you to make the children to fear police station, and we want the general public to know that police are very friendly people, they should have nothing to be afraid; instead we want them to know we are always there to help.”
“But, in China, all the people scare the kids by saying ‘if you don’t listen to your parents, you will be sent to the police station.’ ” Cindy insisted.
“No, I will never let the children live in fear, that is not the way we discipline our child here in Canada.” Social worker said.
“But if we don’t have certain authority for them to be afraid of, how will they obey.”
“We have lots of resources here to help you better understand the Canadian system here. Do you mind we book you an appointment to see a counsellor?”
“I was just trying to make discipline a bit creative. . .” It suddenly dawned on her that she was actually the one who needed help. She didn’t remember any of the following conversation, but the feeling of helplessness came back again, she wanted to cry.
Eventually they brought her daughter back. She was smiling; they read her story and gave her a brand new green teddy bear with a red scarf - a liquor store’s souvenir.
The police woman led them back to the stairway. “Nice to meet you, you can play here anytime; police station is a very safe place. Have a good day, bye.” She smiled at lily; it seemed like they just left the Disneyland with a sign “Come back again.”
On the way back driving home, both of them were awfully quiet; each one was thinking of their own day.
“Mom, do you know why I don’t behave properly.”
“Why?” she was surprised her daughter asked this question.
“Because,” Lily said “I am not afraid of anything.”
1201 Words
Everyone who visits the beautiful harbor city Qing-Tao would dream to visit Laoshan Mountain. And everyone who visits Laoshan Mountain would dream to see the Upper Taoism Abbey. It is not for its wonderful landscape but for the famous legend of the fairy lady -- written by the great writer Pu song-ling three hundred years ago.
In an early summer day, we climbed Laoshan. Beside the trail, trees are thicker and thicker. Between the clefts and huge boulders, the clear spring water runs their way. Under the shadow or with the cooler breeze, it seems the summer is still far from here.
The trail leads us to the top and meets the creeks many times. Luckily, we always can find some rocks like the glacier boulders lying on the stream for crossing the water. While the trail turns into the ravine. The quiet makes you wonder if this is an untouched area. Only one or two bird chirpings break this perpetual tranquil. While we shout, the echoes vibrate in the air back and forth, and that make us as happy as a child.
We have a rest on the side of deep pond in the midway. The snacks make us as fresh as new. Some search around to find berries and wild fruits. Some swim in the pond. I stand on a huge cliff to have a good sight-seeing. Surveying down the trail that we hiked, I stun that the following tourists are just small as ants climbing the tree. The East China Sea waves in horizon, and the Laoshan Mountain looms behind up to the cloud sky.
Ascend on and on. Among the green, luxuriant pines and the mist, the Upper Taoism Abbey is insight.
To be surprised, the Abbey is far from a palace; it more likes a cottage – the black brick wall with the stone tiles. It’s so simple both in shape and colour. A pond cripples in the yard and some ancient trees around it. A mulberry tree attracts our attention. A big stone sign stands beside. The words are “Purple Snow”—the fairy lady’s name in Pu song-ling’s legend. Hundreds years later, the canopy still flourish enough. Some funs take photos with her, but who knows where the fairy lady is now?
I meet a Taoism priest on the side yard. I ask him why this Abbey is so different from the majesty Wu -dong Mountain Abbey?—it’s a real palace! He smile and said: “Wu-dong was built by the Emperor of Ming dynasty for showing his subjects he believed and promoted Taoism. And ours embodies the true qualities of the Taoism—simple and nature. “
On the top of Laoshan Mountain, I gaze into the distance—the boundless and indistinct East China Sea. Above the mountain, the white clouds float leisurely. What vast scenery is it! I feel I am merging and free flying in this vast. At the same time, I can’t help to sigh with emotion that we are just as little just as a drop of water in the great ocean.
Article for "Speedy Cooking" Section
Speedy and Healthy Cooking
Each one in my family enjoys my cooking. Every time they eat the food I cook, they always say, “Mmmm, this is the best food I ever had.”
It is nice to hear people get pleasure from my cooking, and it is very important for me to cook yummy and healthy food.
From my experience I found out that eating healthy is easier than we think. You can try it for yourself by preparing the healthy recipe I provide. It is fast, easy, and vey delicious.
Rubbed Chicken
Ingredients:
2 table spoon paprika
2 tea spoon salt
½ tea spoon black pepper
1 tea spoon orange leaves
1 table spoon vegetable oil
Chicken breast
Method:
1. In medium bowl whisk together all dry ingredients.
2. Rub outside of chicken breast with spice mix.
3. Brush oil on an oven proof and place on high heat.
4. Sear both sides of chicken breast for 1 minute each and place in oven at 350 F until internal temperature reaches 165 F for 15 seconds or more.
Have it with the Yogurt Sauce
2 tea spoon fresh garlic
1 table spoon lemon juice
1 table spoon honey
Pinch of salt and pepper
Method:
In medium bowl whisk together all ingredients and refrigerate.
Enjoy!
215 words
The book, “Men Are from Mars, Women Are from Venus”, written by John Gray was one of the #1 New York Times Bestseller. I read it around ten years ago. However, recently, after I read the short story, “Cat in the Rain” by Hemingway, I thought of this book again and want to introduce it to you.
In this book, the author described men and women as being from different planets to have readers understanding the totally different between man and women. The inspiration of the book came from one quarrel between the author and his wife. During the quarrel, the author wanted to go out of the home and got a calming down for himself and his wife—it is also the most usual behavior that every other husband select to do when a quarrel happened, but what his wife said, “You are a fair-weather friend! As long as I am sweet, love me you are here for me, but as soon as I am not, you walk right out that door. But now I am pain, I just need your arms around me”, changed his mind and let him thought deeply the reason of the quarrel between two each-loved persons and why it was so easy to solve the problem when he changed an angle to face the crisis. Liking in his case, just a hug for a few minutes, the couple got back their loves and trusts.
“Although almost everyone would agree that men and women are different, how different is still undefined for most people”. In this book, the author particularly analyses the different between men and women, including instincts, modes of thinking, pattern of communication, motivation points, and hobbies etc. According this analysis and some examples, the author give reads more advices about how to dead with the relationships between husbands and wives.
Marriage means not only passion and excitement, but also more everydayness and sometimes even depression and frustration. How to face those questions is a common problem to all married people. So it is your duty to pay more attention on how is the feeling of your husband or wife and make the marriage containing more quality. For this reason I introduce this book to you.
373 words
"War on Global Crisis"
“What do you think it is that we need in order to be saved from this Global Financial Crisis?”
Asked an the old man, while we were waiting for the bus to arrive.
“We need something like the invention of fire, or maybe a technology that will surpass the abilities of the computer,” I replied.
“Yes, something like that can save us, but kid, Einstein has been dead for a long time,” he said laughing. “But, you know what? The only thing that can change the world right now as it, and make every country powerful and stable is the big three letter word, WAR!”
“War?” I asked, wondering how could it change the world.
“Huh! You know what kid, war saved the Americans from the depression in World War-I and in World War-II and it sure save them ones again in a World War-III. War is Business, War is Money.”
I honestly didn’t know how war saved the economic and financial stability of America. But there is one thing I know. Another World War can not be allowed to happen.
“If War would arise in the middle of the crisis, countries will surely fall for it. Ones again they will side with one another and will start forming their alliance. The thing is, it is going to be catastrophic.
The modern war would be mass destruction, nuclear weapons and bio-chemical like maybe anthrax can easily wipe out a large part of the worlds population, land fields, water and other living things.”
“Good answer kid,” he said while tapping my shoulder, as if he’s telling me that I’ve guessed what was on his mind. “But, They all have got to happen. In order for things and lives to be restored, things and lives has to be destroyed. In order for us to reach a successful future, we have to overcome an unforgettable past.”
“How can you say that? Are you crazy? Even you and your love ones may die in this war, and you still think that it is the right thing to do? And how could someone possibly move on after series of nuclear and bio-chemical attacks all over the globe?”
“I will tell you exactly how it will end. The weak countries and its people would vanish from the face of the earth, all that will remain from them is their wretched, value-less soil and maybe, just maybe a few survivors with mental or physical deficiencies. At the only the strong will survive. The power would be in the hands on the remaining nations.”
“That is surely one of the maddest things I’ve ever heard, next to Bible’s Book of Revelation.”
“Like I said kid, they’re all written and has to be fulfilled,” he said, as if he had already lived in the future. “ Oh. Yah, I almost forgot, do you have two dollars? I have no money for the bus fare.”
I gave him a dollar.
“Thanks kiddo! May God Bless You!” He said while running away, going towards the group of people getting off the bus on the opposite street.
And just like that, our conversation ended.
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