A Person Who You Can Trust

My sister is a person who I love to share my thoughts and feelings with. Her name is Teresa Vang. She is a person who will listen to me and share secret with each other and a person that is short, shy, talkative, share thing, and show that she care about you. She is a my sister and a friend to me. Why? Because when I need her she can be my friend who could tell me what to do and a sister that will listen to me, also will tell what you should do for a better life. She is wonderful person if anyone has met her. My sister is a person that will love to talk and show some of love. My sister Teresa and I have most comment theme; we love to share thing, talk to each other about good or bad, have fun with kids and have a good time of being sister. We love to do things together like: watch kids, play around, wash dishes, watch movie together and other things that makes us have fun. Teresa is a wonderful sister that I have in this world and a person that open up when I needed her to be around. She the person I trust and when help me when I have some problem to solve.

Time Out For Talking

For grades first, second, and third, my teacher was Mrs. Flower, the first black woman to teach at Fremont Elementary school. There must have been a teacher shortage because I had been there for two years, but in middle of the third year, all of us third graders were given a new teacher, and Mrs. Flower returned to teaching only first grade. While she was black, her class was all Hmong, and she was the only teacher for the Hmong students still learning English. As a result, I and other Hmong students shifted from Mrs. Flower's classes to the new 3rd grade teacher and then back again by the end of the school day. Despite three years of instruction by her, Mrs. Flower's never really knew me as separate from the other Hmong girls.

One day Mrs. Flower had difficulty quieting the class for instruction, so she commanded all students to sit down on the floor. The teacher instructed everyone to be quiet, but as she surveyed the classroom, she picked me out for too much talking. I got a punished with a 30 minute "time out" at my desk, where I had to put down my head. Later, she came to me privately and added to the punishment the job of writing 100 sentences--I will not talk during the class. To tell the truth, I was actually not the student who was talking. I must have turned my head to confuse Mrs. Flower, but it was a girl seated next to me who kept on chattering. Later, when the sentence punishment was awarded, I tried to claim innocence, but it was too late. I was pegged as a girl talking out of turn.

After school for three days, I struggled to write what I never had before--100 sentences. Suddenly writing became a boring and repetitive task. I learned from this punishment not only to not talk in class, but also to not do anything that the teacher didn't like. Despite the teacher's error in punishing me for doing something I hadn't done, I still forgave Mrs. Flower because she was overall a very nice teacher. Strangely, I did in that exercise learn to write quickly by hand, and I still like to write.