Melissa Moore English 111 December 3, 2012

Table of Contents
1. Title Page 2. Table of Contents 3. Overall assessment (2pages) 4. Revised Essay 5. Original Essay 6. Writing Critique

During this fall semester, English Composition has covered a lot of territory in regards to writing skills. Our course objectives were to become more acquainted with the different types of writing, use correct grammar, gather reliable information, and always maintain awareness of the audience. I have learned during this course that writings consist of many important parts. All writings consist of a purpose, a stance, an audience that you are targeting, a genre, and medium. After reading several of the essays I now have a better understanding of the importance of having a clearly stated purpose in my writings. Its always important to be as descriptive as possible in your writings and make it interesting to the reader. I had trouble in the beginning understanding how I should keep the audience in mind when writing my essays, but during a class discussion someone mention that everyone interprets things differently and then for some reason it finally clicked for me. My grammar has never been the best, but the use of good grammar plays a strong role in good essay. While making the recommended corrections to my paper, I noticed how most of the corrections I made involved quotations and the use of past and present tense forms. After reading the essay again, I realized how much better the essay sounded. I never knew that there were so many different types of writing. After completion of the assigned Literacy Narrative, I had gained understanding on how to take an early memory that pertained to reading and writing, and tell a story that would interest other readers.

As a class we reviewed Rick Braggs All Over But the Shoutin. This particular reading gave me some insight as to the contents a good memoir contains. A memoir presents a good story that is told while using a lot of sensory detail. As for informative reports, which I seemed to struggle with some, I learned to be careful of what sources I use and even though a certain subject interests me it may not interest others in the same way. When doing an informative report, I need to implement information that would possibly interest the other readers as well. Another genre I learned was how to write an argument, but not just any argument, a researched argument. This I found most difficult, due to the fact of the numerous sources that are available via web. During this assignment, I had to carefully select my sources and keep the information well organized. While compiling all the gathered information together, I then met the task of seeing the opposite perspective of my argument. This was very challenging because I rarely understand anyone elses point of view besides my own. Another task I faced was avoiding plagiarism, use of paraphrasing, give acknowledgement of sources and implementing the use of quoting. I did find that when I cited my sources, it wasnt as hard as hard as I had thought it would be. By following the books MLA format, I found it to be very helpful. The main points that I remember the most from this semester are always use lots of detail, always remember the audience, adhere to one purpose and point, and keep the writing well organized. On a couple of my papers I noticed comments that pertained to my use of verb tenses. After reading through I noticed that the tenses changed often, even though still a habit, I have learned to pay more attention to the tense that Im using and stay consistent with that particular tense. .

Melissa Moore Stacey Jones English 111 October 21 2012

A Daddy Like Mine To get an idea of where Im speaking from, you would have to have had a father like mine. Growing up my father was always someone I admired, feared, respected, and loved. We always had fun together. We always challenged each other with game after game of checkers ending each one with Come on, daddy, just one more. Our time spent together during the summers were the best. We would gather our cane poles, tackle box, and a can of worms, then spend the afternoon with our feet dangling off an old wooden bridge over a small creek. It never mattered how tired or what mood he would be in, he always made the time. In my eyes he never did any wrong. He was like a hero to me. Nothing could ever hurt him and he would be with me forever. I recall the time I first noticed changes in him, I was 15. Unable to drive yet, I called my big brother to come home. Sitting in the doctors office is never fun, but at least I got to catch up with my brother who had been gone some time. King family, we heard the nurse call,Ahh finally, I thought to myself. Upon entering the smallest room they could possibly pick for us, there sat Daddy on the exam table. Eager for the docs report, I sat there laughing at daddy who was always quick with remarks that only he could come up with. No one else could ever make me laugh like he did. Like yesterday, I remember Mr. King, the doctor said with a stern voice

pointing up at this bright black and white picture that was shaped in a form of the skull. You have a large mass about the size of a grapefruit on the back side of your head, this is probably what has been causing your head aches, increased fatigue, dizziness, and incoordination. There I sat, staring blankly right at the picture, not knowing what to say, what to do, or even what questions to ask. The room was silent, Daddy looks around at us and then to the doctor Well that makes sense, Dad says, I knew something was wrong, now what do you want to do doc? Of course, everyone is in shock but him.

Admission to the hospital quickly followed, and preparations for surgery began. The next few days were spent with Daddy at the hospital, while we waited for his recovery and tests to be completed. The next news we received was just as bad as the first. Good morning Mr. King, said the doctors as they walked in, how many I cant recall, but I found myself stuck staring at the brown folders that each one had brought in with them. There we sat again listening to the plan of care and treatment each one had to offer as their solution to fight this type of cancer that was in these different areas. Wait! What? Did I miss something? I screamed silently to myself. I have read enough and heard enough, I knew what this meant. I knew what treatment they were talking about. But again, dads first response was Well do whatever you want to do. Youre going to anyway. The next few weeks were a whirl wind. I still lived with my mom, was in school, and on top of that was trying to raise a baby. Shortly before the day daddy was sent home from the hospital, my brother was involved in an accident, leaving no one to stay at home with daddy. In result, my aunt Janet moved dad in with her while he recovered.

I visited as often as I could, each time noticing the drop in his weight, and the increased dryness of his skin. I thought that was the worst; he had the appearance of someone who had no water left in them. Still dads mood never changed, sure I could tell his energy was limited, but he always was able to muster up the strength to make his wise comments. He never complained about anything, at least not to me. I was always asking how he was feeling or if there was anything I could do, and like always he said I feel alright, why wouldnt I? After months of chemo and radiation treatments, daddy finally decided to go back home with my grandmother accompanying him. I started staying with my other grandparents down the road, so now I could visit as much as I liked. Most days when I went to see him, as soon as I walked through the door, there on the couch he would be and as soon as he seen me up he would come like someone had lit a fire underneath him. Being all smiles dad, would invite me to sit down and finish a college basketball game with him; those were always his favorite. One December afternoon when I got home from school, I hurried in to finish homework, see the baby, then go check on daddy. Half way into my routine, the phone rang with Daddys number on the caller ID, but Grandmas voice is on the other end. I need you to come help me with your Daddy; he has fallen again. Again, I thought to myself. I hurried up the hill, continuously thinking how I was going to give him a going- over for lying to me. I burst through the door yelling for him but received no reply. After going room to room I found them in the bathroom. I stop in my tracks and felt my body freeze and that blank stare came over me as I saw my daddy lying on the floor motionless. Finally my Grandmother spoke; breaking my concentration. Not knowing what to do, I quickly roll him over and direct my grandmother to

call 911 and then my mom. Unable to see through the tears that are pouring out of my eyes, I attempt to perform CPR the best that I knew how until the 911 dispatcher could direct me. After getting through just two sets of thirty compressions and mouth to mouth breathing, I began to get sick, leaving me unable to continue. An artery had burst, which lead to daddys lungs to fill up with blood. The dispatcher continued to encourage me to perform the mouth to mouth as long as I could hear gurgling; so I did. It seemed like hours before the EMS arrived, but when they did; daddy was intubated and strapped to a stretcher, then whisked away. Daddy has been dead 11 years, 10 months, and 16 days. I can still recall most of the time we spent together and the conversations we had. I find myself repeating some of the same things he once said to me, to my children. Every time I said or did something that he thought was unladylike he would scour down at me and say, Now little lady, that aint no way to be. He always told me that it didnt matter what I ended up doing in life, but that I better make damn sure I give it my best effort because if I didnt, I would look back on that day and be full of regret. I have a feeling he was speaking from experience. I remember how it didnt matter what the problem was, Daddy could fix anything. My Daddy always loved to pick arguments, even when he knew he was on the losing end of the discussion. I see the same that same stubbornness in my middle daughter today. She will argue over anything as long as she knew she was being bothersome. If something is pink she would argue that its light red. Not only do I see my daddy in my children and myself at times, it seems like I see him everywhere.

Stacey Jones English 111 October 21 2012 A Daddy Like Mine To get an idea of where Im speaking from, you would have to have had a father like mine. Growing up my father was always someone I admired, feared, respected, and loved. We always had fun together. We always challenged each other with game after game of checkers ending each one with come on daddy just one more. Our time spent together during the summers were the best. We would gather our cane poles, tackle box, and a can of worms, then spent the afternoon with our feet dangling off an old wooden bridge over a small creek. It never mattered how tired or what mood he would be in, he always made the time. In my eyes he never did any wrong. He was like a hero to me. Nothing could ever hurt him and he would be with me forever . I recall the time I first noticed changes in him, I was 15. Unable to drive yet, I called my big brother to come home. Sitting in the doctors office is never fun, but at least I got to catch up with my brother who had been gone some time. King family we heard the nurse call, ahh finally I thought to myself. Upon entering the smallest room they could possibly pick for us, there sat d addy on the exam table. Eager for the docs report, I sat there laughing at daddy who was always quick with remarks that only he could come up with. No one else could ever make me laugh like he did. Like yesterday, I remember Mr. King, the doctor said with a stern voice pointing up at this bright black and white picture that was shaped in a form of the skull. You have a large mass about the size of a grapefruit on the back side of your head, this is probably what has been causing you head aches, increased fatigue, dizziness, and incoordination. There I

sat, staring blankly right at the picture, not knowing what to say, what to do, or even what questions to ask. The room was silent, d ad looks around at us and then to the doctor well that makes sense dad says I knew something was wrong, now what do you want to do doc? Of course, I knew this was coming, everyone is in shock but him. Admission to the hospital quickly followed, and preparations for surgery began. The next few days were spent with d addy at the hospital, while waiting for his recovery and tests to be completed. The next news we will receive is just as bad as the first.

Good morning Mr. King, said the doctors as they walked in, how many I cant recall, but I found myself stuck staring at the brown folders that each one had brought in with them. There we sat again listening to the plan of care and treatment each one had to offer as their solution to fight this type of cancer that was in these different areas. Wait! What? Did I miss something? I screamed silently to myself. I have read enough and heard enough, I knew what this meant. I knew what treatment they were talking about. But again, dads first response was well do whatever you want to do, youre going to anyway. The next few weeks were a whirl wind. I still lived with my mom, was in school, and on top of that was trying to raise a baby. Shortly before the day daddy was sent home from the hospital, my brother was involved in an accident, leaving no one to stay at home with daddy. In result, my aunt Janet moved dad in with her while he recovered. I visited as often as I could, each time noticing the drop in his weight, and the increased dryness of his skin. I thought that was the worst, he had the appearance of someone who had no water left in them. Still dads mood never changed, sure I could tell his energy was limited, but he

always was able to muster up the strength to make his wise comments. He never complained about anything, at least not to me. I was always asking how he was feeling or if there was anything I could do, and like always he said I feel alright, why wouldnt I? After months of chemo and radiation treatments, daddy finally decided to go back home with my grandmother accompanying him. I started staying with my other grandparents down the road, so now I could visit as much as I liked. Most days when I went to see him, as soon as I walked through the door, there on the couch he would be and as soon as he seen me up he would come like someone had lit a fire underneath him . Being all smiles dad, would invite me to sit down and finish a ball game with him. One December afternoon when I got home from school, I hurried in to finish homework, see the baby, then go check on daddy. Half way into my routine, the phone rings with daddys number on the caller ID, but g randmas voice is on the other end. I need you to come help me with your daddy he has fallen again. Again I thought to myself. I hurried up the hill, continuously thinking to myself how I was going to give him a going over for lying to me. I burst through the door yelling for him but received no reply. After going room to room I find them in the bathroom. I stop in my tracks and felt my body freeze and that blank stare came over me as I saw my daddy lying on the floor motionless. Finally my grandmother spoke breaking my concentration. Not knowing what to do, I quickly roll him over and direct my grandmother to call 911 and then my mom. Unable to see through the tears that are pouring out of my eyes, I attempt to perform CPR the best that I knew how until the 911 dispatcher could direct me . Daddy has been dead 11 years, 10 months, and 16 days. I can still recall most of the time we spent together and the conversations we had. I find myself repeating some of the same things he

once said to me, to my children. Every time I said or did something that he thought was unlady like he would scour down at me and say, now little lady that aint no way to be. He always told me that it didnt matter what I ended up doing in life but that I better make damn sure I give it my best effort because if I didnt my I would look back on that day and be full of regret. I have a feeling he was speaking from experience. I remember how it didnt matter what the problem was, daddy could fix anything. My daddy always loved to pick arguments even when he knew he was on the losing end of the discussion. I see the same that same stubborness in my middle daughter today. She will argue over anything as long as she knew she was being bothersome. If something is pink she would argue that its light red. Not only do I see my daddy in my children and myself at times, it seems like I see him everywhere.

Writing Critique
I think my best writing this semester would have to be my memoir, Daddy Like mine. I feel that I was able to express emotion that other readers could relate to. Even though it was a little tough to write, I felt better that I was able to share this particular time in my life. Even though it lacked a lot of correct grammar and quotations; I think that the emotion and detail made up for it.

I think my weakest writing would have to be the Informative report, An Historic Politician. I realized after completion that I really didnt keep my audience in mind when I was writing it. I really didnt include in my writing the reason I chose to do my writing on Charles Sumner. I think that the writing could be improved if I included that main point, and somehow make it more interesting for those who arent that interested in history.