Descriptive paragraphs
A teacher’s way of teaching and leading can have a significant impact on the emotional and mental development of his or her students. As I step into my math class, I see eight students lining up in a row with their hands out in front of them. Mercilessly, the teacher swings his stick at their hands, counting from one to ten. Each time the stick beats down, I can feel as if a nail is hammered into my eardrums. My heart continues to pound as some of the students cries. The mad teacher finishes up with his beatings and yells out, “Getting 50% and under is unacceptable!” The sudden scream from the teacher scares me as my hands squeeze together. “I am calling each and every single of your parents and letting them know the shame you brought to my class,” he shouts. The day ends with me lying on my bed trying to fall asleep as the crying of my classmates haunts my brain making me uncomfortable. After two hours, I am finally able to get some sleep.
Next morning, I feel pain from the beatings slowly concentrate on my legs as I suddenly wake up. The dorm supervisor wakes us up with his rod at 6:30 in the morning. While I fold my bed and brush my teeth, the supervisor rushes us and shouts, “Hurry up! Lazy bums!” We sloppily get ready and jog to the main school building.
Terrified, I step into the classroom and notice that a quarter of the class didn’t show up. I wait for the teacher, convincing myself that it won’t be the teacher from yesterday. I wait patiently as I hear footsteps approaching the classroom and suddenly, everyone stops chattering. The same teacher walks in. He glared at us with his angry face getting ready to force his lesson on us. The teacher concludes his lousy lecture and five pages of homework. I take out my notebook and start tackling the questions. A student approaches the infuriated teacher asking for help. “You don’t even know how to solve this?” He questions as if he were talking to a three year old. “Why are you even in my class?” he
Next morning, I feel pain from the beatings slowly concentrate on my legs as I suddenly wake up. The dorm supervisor wakes us up with his rod at 6:30 in the morning. While I fold my bed and brush my teeth, the supervisor rushes us and shouts, “Hurry up! Lazy bums!” We sloppily get ready and jog to the main school building.
Terrified, I step into the classroom and notice that a quarter of the class didn’t show up. I wait for the teacher, convincing myself that it won’t be the teacher from yesterday. I wait patiently as I hear footsteps approaching the classroom and suddenly, everyone stops chattering. The same teacher walks in. He glared at us with his angry face getting ready to force his lesson on us. The teacher concludes his lousy lecture and five pages of homework. I take out my notebook and start tackling the questions. A student approaches the infuriated teacher asking for help. “You don’t even know how to solve this?” He questions as if he were talking to a three year old. “Why are you even in my class?” he