My dream job essay contest
In some countries, education is not really important.I dare to dream of a community where collaboration is valued, and everyone is an equal contributor.Our Creative Minds Imagine contests have allowed us to recognize the remarkable work of many young essayists over the years. First Place | Second Place (tie)About our judgepoint blank before I confessed that he had a gun, my mother held my wrist tightly and yelled at me and I felt heartbroken and inconsolable because we had lost my dad’s salary that was in her bag, because I had no idea how much that bag cost and how much we had lost, and I simply repeated sorry, sorry, and when I saw her suffer, her lips puckered in worry, I started sobbing, wheezing, as if my larynx were clogged, my breathing punctuated as I stood there unable to fully swallow what the span of a minute had caused to me, to my mother, to my sister, to our family, as we stood perplexed in the middle of a seedy parking lot in Santo Domingo surrounded by cars whose hoods shone under the sun and dimly visible onlookers who watched us from their apartment windows behind their curtains, breathless silence fogging their glass panes, not completely guiltless, but whose silence I could not blamebefore I confessed that he had a gun, Señor Hernandez, whose back bent, hair white, marched out of his apartment and staggered towards us with his cane while I hid behind my mother’s back, clawing onto the pleats of her skirt, refusing to look straight into the old man’s eyes while he explained to my mother what happened, how he himself was too frightened to come out and confront the robber, saying how the ‘poor little girls’ got scared stiff, saying he had watched everything behind the yellow curtains, and told my mother how she shouldn’t blame me for having lost that bag, having let the robber run away, because I was just too young to defend myself, and that reduced me to tears until I was wailing at the top of my voice, not only because I was shocked by what had just happened but because it was upsetting and unfair that my mother was scolding me, calling me stupid, not the robber, but me, so I just wept brooding over the words she let out, the blame that she had put on me and between punctuated sobs, I uttered, he had a gun, umma, and my mother collapsed on the ground, her face turning the pallor of the flesh of a Dominican chayotebefore a man pointed the gun at my sister, my mother left our Santa Fé unlocked, gently grabbing my sister’s friend’s hand and walking toward one of those grey, low-rise buildings, as the little girl joyfully shook her pigtails, as my sister and I were peacefully seated, then I threw a short glance at my four-year- old sister just to check, to be relieved at the sight of her calmly settled in her cushioned car seat before I looked to the front, lost in thought, mind wandering off, gazing at some colorful laundry that hung in one veranda, at a black graffiti written in Spanish on one wall, at a man smoking as the thin coil of smoke disappeared hazily in the air, at some plants that added a little green to these dull structures, at everything that added some life and youth to the long-standing blocks of dark cementbefore he held the trigger at my sister, I was startled by the click with which the car door flew open, I sharply turned my head, and he, dressed in black and his expression hidden behind a crash helmet, ominously dark, snatched my mother’s bag with a violent jerk, causing me to freeze for a second, motionless, pale, frightened, then by instinct reach out for the purse, the very second he pulled out his gun, placed his finger on the trigger and pointed at my sister, calmly seated, too calmly seated, who, too young, remained oblivious to the extent of the force this hand-sized object posed to her, and I felt my heart snap like a twig under some weight at the incredible image before my eyes of two figures, the robber and my sister, gun aimed at my sister’s head, my sister stiff as a rock, the robber’s finger quivering by the trigger, a scene that would linger for the rest of my life, though it lasted a matter of seconds, but felt like my own head had split and the very bullet of his gun had pierced my brain Joungbihn Park is a 16-year-old junior from Korea who currently studies in Manila, Philippines.The contest runs an entire week, starting Wednesday Jul 21, ’10 and ends on Tuesday, Jul 27, ’10, midnight IST. Results will be announced on the Blog Adda website by Friday, Jul 30, ’10. Write down your thoughts now and share the link with us!And then her eyes are like waterfalls, gushing with tears and tears and her mouth is full of red screams and sobs and the teacher hears her and tells me to run for the nurse but I can’t move. Lizzie Markovich is a freshman at the Kinkaid School in Houston, TX.I love this post because Caroline beautifully communicates the challenges and fears that come with making a gutsy move, like quitting a comfortable job to pursue a passion. It wasn’t that I particularly disliked the work or the people, but that I couldn’t shake this voice inside my head screaming, I didn’t feel passionate about what I was doing.Hey Episode Creators, You have all been patiently waiting and I am happy to announce the next Episode Creator’s Contest!He was with me for my first train ride and first plane ride. Nonno is awesome, from his Texan talk to love for the outdoors. He is Italian, which is why we call him “Nonno.” Every time we go to his house, Nonno spoils us with phenomenal food, and will sometimes give my siblings and me pieces of candy (not altogether known about). Not only does he use Texan expressions like “I’m headin’ back to the Ranch” (meaning his house), but he tells funny stories like “The Fastest Man Alive and Surrounded by the Enemy.” I never get tired of listening to his countless stories and adventures.This year's agenda is about the future of wellness - the people, practices, and ideas that will be inspiring you in the years to come.Recently, Wesley Gardens has participated in our annual Favorite Older Friend Essay Contest for 5th graders. He has spent his retirement caring for me as a baby, toddler, preschooler, and now as a grade schooler. When he reads something he thinks I would like to know he shares it with me. He likes to share tales of these days with me and I like to listen.Before we are all busy attending firework displays and 4th of July BBQ’s, I have a few fabulous short classes left that you won’t want to miss in the next seven days. Then write a sentence about what it’s probably really like. Make sure to include the specific things you imagined about this job.
- Our Annual Favorite Older Friend Essay Contest. Recently, Wesley Gardens has participated in our annual Favorite Older Friend Essay Contest for 5th graders.
- Our Creative Minds Imagine contests have allowed us to recognize the. from the tight grasp this town is holding on my genes and dreams? III. Judge's comments “Epigenetics” is an essay after my own heart, the kind I like to write myself. its slow, contented hum of a job well done, one felt purged, ready for a new life.
- May 30, 2017. Essay contests are great to enter, because the prizes are big, the odds are. One of my favorite examples of how a good hook can influence.
- Aug 25, 2014. I wanted to make sure I told all of my readers about the Keds Brave Life Project. Keds has. Write an essay based on your Brave Career dream
I wanted to become a teacher where children’s strengths and interests were accepted and encouraged, rather than shut down or ignored.” Her goal is to “create an environment where children [are] collaborative learners and engaged in active, multi-modal learning.” Throughout her time in the UTK CFS Prek-3 Teacher Licensure program, Daudelin loved having “the opportunity to learn from and observe many different teachers” because it gave her the chance to “view various teaching styles.” Moving forward, her dream job would be a First Grade Teacher at a Title I school in Nashville or Memphis.I count and count until the numbers are jumbled in my head and then I open my eyes. Then I see a bright pink sneaker, flashing up into the slide like a lightning bolt in August. Ava screams and then giggles as she runs away from me. I follow her, running, sprinting, and finally catching her in the field because I run faster than she can.They are snickering, rolling their eyes, whispering among themselves.The musical was then nominated for 13 Tony Awards, including the Tony Award for Best Musical, and won six.Did you know that you can win prizes with your writing?I never really cared what we did, as long as I was with him. When he was forced to retire from Kodak, he went back to school to become a Vet Technician.That breathless style, and the dazzle of sense impressions, is mimetic of the frenetic energy and fractured attention of a child, and puts the reader vividly inside the memory as if it were his own. ” out loud.“Epi-”: upon/over“Genetics”: referring to DNA, inherited biological coding I. There’s no way for me to know if putting my pants on with my right leg first will ever affect my future extended family’s heart health, but if we knew all the nitty-gritty details then we’d probably become biological, environmental dictators..where’s the molecular spontaneity in that?