I don't need a title for my application.

I am a man that has seen the world, the whole world. I have descended into the depths of the Mariana Trench. I have climbed the Mount Everest. Traveling around the world and seeing everything takes you one year? Pfft... I can do that in one day. But when I'm not traveling around the world I perform lifesaving surgeries on Thursdays or I teach Christiano Ronaldo the right way to play soccer on Tuesdays. I have faced God and I have faced the Grim Reaper. I made them serve underneath me. The most powerful person in the universe? Yes, that would be me. People on the streets always greet me. Chuck Norris doesn't roundhouse kick me, I roundhouse kick him. Yoda doesn't teach me the force, I teach him. I don't open doors, doors open for me. I don't wear a bulletproof vest for protection, a bulletproof vest wears me for protection. I don't win awards, awards win me.  Sometimes however, I like to snowboard. On my days off, Obama asks me to save the day and civilize terrorists. Standing on roller blades, I can balance ten hockey pucks on my head and on top of that not one, but three soccer balls while i cook a hamburger in the kitchen. When people want rain, I give them rain. When people want sun, I give them sun. When people want snow, I give them snow. There is no need for a weatherman, I am the weather. There is a whole college, just for studying my life. Yet, I have not gone to college so far

Rolf Gotzes English 11 Mr. Van Camp

                                                            I’m failing this exam

I am sitting here in the hallway. I'm looking at the clock and it is like a countdown to the end of the world. Today is my final exam. First of all I hate English, I'm not prepared at all and I didn't study anything for my exam. Not even a single thing. Time passes... 8:00... 8:10... 8:20... I'm starting to feel nervous...8:30... 8:38 . The bell rings and for the first time today, I noticed the people around me talking about what they studied for english and how they started weeks ago. Everyone starts walking into the classroom, prepared to write the final exam, expect for one. And that is me. As I enter the classroom, everyone is already seated and every student stares at me. I stop for a second and look around in the classroom to find the best partner of whom i could copy off of. And I find it. The spot right next to John the smartest kid in class is free. It took a load off my mind. It was like the chair that shines all bright and can solve all your problems. I quickly sit down. I tell myself "Now i only need to think of ways to cheat without getting caught." As Mr. Martin, my teacher, walks down our row to hand the final exam out, I sit there thinking that I beat him. But as he walks closer and closer to me I recognize that he is smiling mysteriously. His mouth opened and for me time slowed down and i could hear him saying every single letter very slowly and clearly. I couldn't believe it. No, I wouldn't believe it. The sentence he said, was that I had to move. Yes I had to move. Just when I thought I could pass the exam with the help of John. My teacher comes along and splits me up from him seating me into the first row. It felt like dying, every single piece of hope inside of me was crushed. When he finally hands me my paper he smiles and says "Too bad for you that I seated you elsewhere." Im sitting here in the first row, looking at the paper thinking about how my life is going to be ruined because I'll fail this exam. My parents are going to be so mad at me. They're going to ground me for at least one month. I'm staring at the paper and wish so much that if I will stare long enough at it, it will give me the answers by itself. Obviously, that doesn't work. I look up and see Mr. Martin at his desk, I'm so mad at him. I wish i could punch him in the face and just walk back down to sit next to John. I start to look back to John and I can hear his pen smoothly forming words as if he has no problems with the task at all, which was probably true. I think to myself "I wish I was John. He is probably writing the answer to the third question and probably thinking about hte fourth question already. He looks at his watch and takes a short break. It feels like it is complete silence but there is one sound that I keep hearing. That's right it's the sound of the clock. Tick...Tock... Every time I hear this sound, it's every second that I'm closer to dying. I start staring at the clock, hoping that I could freeze the time, so I could walk over to John, copy of everything and walk back to my seat and let time continue. I had already realized by the time I was moved to a different seat that I'm screwed. "What smells so bad?" I think to myself. After looking around in the room I realized it is sweat. My sweat. I'm so nervous and under pressure that I start to sweat and it stinks. After about 15 minutes of actually thinking about the first question I have come to realize that I know absolutely nothing. Nothing at all. I can't even cheat in the first row because firstly Mr. Martin always looks at everyone in the class. His eyes are everywhere. Secondly, sitting left to me is Bjorn, the class loser, who is as screwed as me and is probably doing the same stuff I'm doing and sitting right to me is no one. So my only cheating option is the class loser. I start looking at Mr. Martin and my eyes start to wet themselves and I can barely stop the tears from coming out. I'm looking him in the eyes hoping he would help me, but nothing will happen. I'm thinking to myself " Please Mr. Martin, please help me. If I could just read your mind."

What Teachers Make

 

In the poem “What Teachers Make” Taylor Mali talks about how important teachers are for a society and that they deserve more recognition. One night he has dinner with guests and gets mocked by his guests for being a teacher. Instead of starting and argument with them and ruin the dinner he “resist[s] the temptation to remind the dinner guests that it’s also true  what they say about lawyers.”  Then he gets asked “what do [es] [he] make?” He tells his guests how much difference he makes because he “make [s] kids work harder than they ever thought they could.” He goes on to describe a 40 minute study hall lesson in which they have to work in “absolute silence”. Parents tremble when he calls home at around dinner time just to find out that their son had actually done something good for once and reliefs them. He makes them question and criticize everything so that they will be able to have their own opinion and judging skills when they grow up. He ends the argument with saying that “teachers make a goddamn difference! Now what about you?” I like the way he uses parallel structure when he always says “You wanna know what I make?” or “I make them” it makes it easier to memorize what he is talking about and this way he keeps the audience in the palm of his hand.

       As I shuffled into the classroom, I knew that Mr. Van Camp would never believe me. I looked at my scuffed shoes and mumbled, "My homework is not done, Sir. I do have a good excuse though."

       " This is not the first time your homework has not been completed. Perhaps," Mr. Van Camp suggested, "it's time to speak with your parents."

       "Please, you have no idea what will happen to me if you phone my home," I moaned. It looked as if he was going to fall for my story.

      "Well, let's hear your excuse. It better be good."

I sat down on the chair beside Mr. Van Camp and looked him deeply into the eye and I could see his anger and frustration building up. Mr. Van Camp raised one eyebrow waiting for my answer.

I began speaking “You won’t believe me what happened yesterday.”

 There was a break as I trying to find the words to describe what happened.

“I was late, I had to hurry to catch the bus and I didn’t zip my backpack. The paper fell out and luckily however I saw it, but it still got dirty because it fell on the ground.”

I pulled out the dirty sheet of paper but it was also in ripped in pieces.

“I see” started Mr. Van Camp, “but why is it ripped in pieces then?”

“When I got home I started drying it. Î hung it up on a rope. So far so good. My dog, however, decided it would be a good idea to tear it apart.” I stated.

"This is ridiculous. This is one of the oldest and worst excuses that exist"

The Classroom had begun to fill with students that were loud and disruptive.

"Alright," shouted Mr. Van Camp, trying to silence the class, "please be quit. I will start the lesson soon. I'm just having a short conversation with a student here."

His dominant voice instantly silenced the class and the students went to their assigned seat.

Again he looked at me, this time though it was more like a glare because he doesn't believe me.

I continued my story " I already thought you won't believe me, but it is the truth. See, look at the bottom there are dog footprints left." 

I pointed to where there was a slight trace of a footprint left.

It was only light and hard to see. He had to hold it very close to his eyes to actually be able to see it.

"I will let you off this time. But only this time. Remember that." said Mr. Van Camp

With that the conversation was over, he started the english lesson and I got away without my homework.

English 11 Mr. Van Camp Rolf Gotzes                                                                        October 17^th 2014

Bluffing

The short story “Bluffing” written by Gail Helgason is about a couple encountering a bear in the woods and resulting in the boyfriend getting hospitalized with serious injuries. Liam, a man with “thick black hair as fashionably as ever” is not telling the truth to his girlfriend. He is lying because he is selfish and only wants to save himself which ultimately backfires on him ang gets him hospitalized with “skin [that] is all puffed up, mottled, with ridges of shiny, rubbery scar tissue crisscrossing like tributaries on a map”. He can be considered selfish because he lies to the other hikers that they meet, stating that it “might not be such a good idea” “[to go] up to the lake” because there is a “grizzly”. He does that just so he can have the lake for himself. Another reason showing that he is selfish is, that he “[spends] most of his money and outdoor gear” instead of sharing money with his girlfriend for “the lease”.  Another time where his selfishness shows is, when his girlfriend encounters the bear and instead of helping her, he runs “away as fast as he could”. Which means that he only cares for his own life and wants only his life to be safe. He doesn’t care what happens to his girlfriend at that time and he is running as if his life depends on it.

Remembering the old days

As Lucy exhales the smoke out of her mouth, she is relaxing and enjoys the day. She looks like an ordinary 86 year old woman that shouldn't smoke because it's bad for her health. But she does it anyway. That's what she looks like on the outside, but on the inside she is a different person, with and untold story. She only smokes one cigarette a day because she knows it's bad but she actually very lonely because she is very old and all her companions already died. Each time she takes a drag from the cigarette it’s like the smoke is telling a story. The cigarette is the only thing that she has left of her friends and that's why it's precious to her. It helps her remember the good ol' days with her friends. They always used to meet after work at the bonfire. There they would play music, eat dinner together, relax, talk about work or other important stuff. The most important part however was, that they always had a ritual that they would do together to show and proof their friendship. Lucy and her friends would always share the first cigarette of the night like a lion shares his prey with its cubs, so that everyone would smoke from it, as proof of their friendship. Nowadays that all of her friends have died, she is very lonely and smokes a cigarette a day to remember her days, that she shared with her friends at the bonfires.