graf #4 reaction

All through high school and my first attempt in college not one English teacher ever cared about what I wrote. All they cared about was grammar, punctuation and a completed assignment to grade. It feels good to finally have a teacher who not only cares about what I write, but how well I write it. I believe that anything worth doing is worth doing right. I'm pleased that Mr. Goldfine wants to help me improve my writing because I have never had that before. It may seem funny, but I'm surprised that he cares enough about my writing and writing in general to take the time to create an advice to writers page.

 All of these questions are questions I have asked myself each time I must complete a writing assignment. I ask them not in hopes of finding an answer, guidance or a way to complete the essay,but out of anger and frustration. As I read these questions I see them in a different light. I see a way to relax and develop a piece of writing. Maybe its because I'm not 18 anymore. I think asking myself these questions will help me write a better paper with less stress and pressure, with the end result being a paper I'm proud of and people actually want to read. I will still feel pressure to please my teacher, but also pressure to complete good quality work. My goal for this class is now writing something and saying "I don't want to hear any negative comments about this, pal. I think it's a damn fine job Goldfine."

Graf #3 Lists

An inventory of the 3 feet next to my bed

• 1- 24 capacity green gun safe containing the following
• 1-Mossburg semi auto 12 gauge shotgun with a turkey choke (made in the USA)
• 1-Mossburg 20 gauge shotgun (made in the USA)
• 1-Remington model 700 rifle with scope
• 1-.22 cal rifle
• 1- 30/30 rifle
• 15 boxes of .45 cal rounds
• 2 boxes of .22 cal rounds
• 2 boxes of self defense .45 cal rounds
• on top shelf 
• 1-.22 cal pistol in leather case
• 1- Smith & Wesson  M&P .45 cal pistol (Made in the USA)
• 1-clip containing 10 .45 cal rounds
• 1 box of 12 gauge Turkey shells
• 2 boxes of 270 rifle rounds
• 3 bottles of gun oil
• 1 white rag
• 1 sprite bottle
• 1 red gun lock
• on top of gun safe
• 1 buck knife
• 1 tactical knife
• 1 NRA logo knife
• 2 jack knifes
• 1 black marker
• 1 State of Maine hunting/ fishing licence
• 1 Smith & Wesson registration form
• 1- 500 round ammo box containing 500 shotgun shells
• 1 pair of camo gloves
• 1 set of old U-Maine hockey tickets
• 1 black pistol holster
• 1 money clip with black lab print
• 1 gun cleaning kit
• 1 handgun safety certificate
• 1 ..45cal clip
• 5- .22 rounds
• 1 tin of Grizzly wintergreen
• on the floor
• 1 cell phone charger
• 1 Pepsi cup
• 1 sleep # bed remote
• 1 bottle of Gatorade
• 1 tube of Cortizone cream
• 1 empty bud light can

The Graf

Does he really need or use all of those weapons? Judging by the empty money clip he spends all of his money on guns and knifes. A mans man, hunter, fisherman who stays true to his heritage. It is evident that he is a blue collar Maine man with a love of the outdoors. He must work very hard to need a cortizone supply on his bedside and a $3,000 sleep number bed. I wonder what his sleep number is? (25) A conservative man proud to represent the NRA, and observes his second amendment right to bare arms. A responsible hunter and gun owner who obeys the laws, and takes safety into account. His abundant suply of ammunition makes a statment that he is ready to defend his family against all enemys. He is a man who supports his country buying american made products. An animal lover and a true patriot. He is not without his faults. It would appear that he has an addictive personality and talks so much he needs a phone charge next to his bed. I guess he is just a tobacco chewing, beer drinking, gun owning good old boy from Maine!!

Graf #2 Worst Teacher

In August 2001 I started my college career at Keene State College in Keene, NH a town I had grown up in almost all of my life. Like most students I had a full class load including English 101. Little did I know that for the first time in my life I would tell not only an adult ,but one of my professors to "Fuck off you insensitive bitch!".

Yes, I actually said it. I'm not really proud of it ,but it needed to be said. Let me paint the picture for you. This teacher we will call her Mrs. B was a women in her late 40's to early 50's with a full head of white hair and weighed in at a solid three bills. Mrs. B hated men, loved the environment and was a die hard Democrat.
Time and time again I would try to meet with her to review my work and ask questions, but was always put off. She was always to busy to look at what she called sub par writing, and answer stupid questions I should have already known the answers to.

So I would quietly complete my work and be lucky to receive a C for my efforts all the while dreading Tuesday and Thursday when I would have to look at her ugly face and listen to her preach in class. I was like a ghost in her class always afraid to participate in class discussions or offer my opinions.

In Late October of 2001 we were given an assignment to write about our feelings and reactions to the September 11, attacks on the World Trade Center.

I completed my work and read it aloud to the class as was required. Being on the opposite political side of Mrs. B my reactions and feelings of this terrible event were as she put it "wrong and completely irrational".
I wanted to tell her what I really thought and ask how one's personal feelings and reactions can ever be wrong when they are your own personal feelings and thoughts. Instead I sat quietly and waited for her to finish tearing me and my views apart one by one in front of everyone.

Next to read was a young girl all of 17, golden blond hair, and 110lbs soaking wet. Her name was Jillian and she had been absent from class for two weeks. As Jillian stood up to read Mrs.B said "Oh Jill nice of you to show up for class" with a devilish smile. Jillian read her story holding back tears the while. After she was finished there was only one dry eye in the class that of Mrs. B.

Jillian's older sister was a waitress on one of the air planes that collided with the world trade center. Her sister 20 years old, the girl who she shared a room with growing up was gone,dead. Jillian was filled with sadness and anger.

Mrs. B said to Jillian something like well hun if your sister had stayed in school she wouldn't have died and you can't be mad at a single group of people or one small country for the act of a few. I know more was said but those words are what has stuck in my mind for the last 11 years. Jillian was destroyed by the words of Mrs. B and fell back to her seat covering the table in tears.

I remember my body filling with rage as I stood up and gave Mrs. B a large piece of my mind, I ended with "Fuck off you insensitive bitch" and every single one of my fellow classmates followed me out of our class.

Outside in the common Jillian gave me a hug and said "thank you for that". I never saw Jillian again ,but I heard that her parents had filed a grievance with the school and Mrs B took a leave of absence.  

Going back to school at 30 what was I thinking?