I would like to nominate Debra and Guillermo Rivera for the educator of the year contest. As these two individuals are also my parents, I understand if they cannot be considered for this contest. Another important piece of information that I assume would not make my parents eligible is that neither of them an official, qualified junior high/high school teacher. Regardless or not of whether this makes them unqualified, if you have the time, please read on.
Occasionally my dad takes me on a long walk around the neighborhood right there you have hours worth of knowledge. If we're walking in the fall, and the wind is blowing, and the leaves are falling I hear about how catching a falling leaf is lucky. Then we study the leaf and this one is a Black Maple because of the way the edge of the leaf is cut. I learn about every kind of tree we see, and I'm not looking at obscure Latin names with diagrams I don't understand. It's in front of me, living, and I can look and touch and feel it. Most importantly I'm having fun. Soon we're leaping around grasping a think air, missing lucky leaves.
In second grade I had a rough year with my teacher and after coming home one day, crying, I didn't go to that school anymore. My mom bought math computer games that we played together, and went to the teacher supply store and brought home a giant timeline. I learned what was happening in America from the 1400's up to the 2000's. Although many things were from s curriculum, it was the added things that counted. We went for a walk and my mom would stop and point to a flower. “Smell it”, she would say, “Isn't it beautiful?” I learned that the flower was a lilac, my mom's favorite. Often times the flower would be only a dandelion or violet: a weed. Neither very interesting, but my mother was fascinated, and so so was I. I learned how to pop the head of a dandelion with my thumb after I blew it. Then I listened as I was told about how seeds are spread: flying like a parachute, or a helicopter, through bird feces (which, a second grader I thought was quite disgusting), and various other ways. Although she was only officially my teacher in second grade, I learn from my mom every day.
If you have read this far, thank you, and I hope that I don't sound like I'm bragging too much about my parents. Also, I hope that I haven't butchered my parents through my writing as although I aspire to be a writer, I'm still developing. I go to a public school now (different from the one I left previously) and although I thoroughly enjoy all of my teachers, I feel that my parents are so passionate about what they teach me, I enjoy learning my from them. My dad is a writer and my mom is an assistant kindergarten teacher. My dad likes to say, “Don't let school get in the way of your education.” [Mark Twain] I have a high respect for my teachers, but from my parents I learn things that really matter. I don't think I'll come across a time when I'll be grateful for knowing trigonometry (which I don't know yet- I'm in seventh grade) or the Latin name for a bee (I do know that). I can see myself though, one day being grateful to be able to show my children how to blow a dandelion, and how to catch a lucky leaf.
Occasionally my dad takes me on a long walk around the neighborhood right there you have hours worth of knowledge. If we're walking in the fall, and the wind is blowing, and the leaves are falling I hear about how catching a falling leaf is lucky. Then we study the leaf and this one is a Black Maple because of the way the edge of the leaf is cut. I learn about every kind of tree we see, and I'm not looking at obscure Latin names with diagrams I don't understand. It's in front of me, living, and I can look and touch and feel it. Most importantly I'm having fun. Soon we're leaping around grasping a think air, missing lucky leaves.
In second grade I had a rough year with my teacher and after coming home one day, crying, I didn't go to that school anymore. My mom bought math computer games that we played together, and went to the teacher supply store and brought home a giant timeline. I learned what was happening in America from the 1400's up to the 2000's. Although many things were from s curriculum, it was the added things that counted. We went for a walk and my mom would stop and point to a flower. “Smell it”, she would say, “Isn't it beautiful?” I learned that the flower was a lilac, my mom's favorite. Often times the flower would be only a dandelion or violet: a weed. Neither very interesting, but my mother was fascinated, and so so was I. I learned how to pop the head of a dandelion with my thumb after I blew it. Then I listened as I was told about how seeds are spread: flying like a parachute, or a helicopter, through bird feces (which, a second grader I thought was quite disgusting), and various other ways. Although she was only officially my teacher in second grade, I learn from my mom every day.
If you have read this far, thank you, and I hope that I don't sound like I'm bragging too much about my parents. Also, I hope that I haven't butchered my parents through my writing as although I aspire to be a writer, I'm still developing. I go to a public school now (different from the one I left previously) and although I thoroughly enjoy all of my teachers, I feel that my parents are so passionate about what they teach me, I enjoy learning my from them. My dad is a writer and my mom is an assistant kindergarten teacher. My dad likes to say, “Don't let school get in the way of your education.” [Mark Twain] I have a high respect for my teachers, but from my parents I learn things that really matter. I don't think I'll come across a time when I'll be grateful for knowing trigonometry (which I don't know yet- I'm in seventh grade) or the Latin name for a bee (I do know that). I can see myself though, one day being grateful to be able to show my children how to blow a dandelion, and how to catch a lucky leaf.
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