Story of Childhood

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Courtney Thompson
Professor Swart
English 101
12 Jan 2012
Back in Time
With the smell of paint in the air, I enter every five year olds fantasy. Toys of all shapes and sizes scattered around the play area, the soft spoken words of story time given by a friendly face, stains from spilt glasses of grape juice that overrun the carpet, and endless numbers of shelves that envelope any remaining space on the walls. This could only be described as my daycare, Sunshine Oaks. While we all crowd around the teacher, mesmerized by the tale about pirates, the story comes to an end. We get settled down and lead into the nap area where we all know what is our fate. Many moans and retaliation come from everyone, but we unwillingly follow the request of our loving friend, Mrs. Kat. With the help of persuasion, she gets everyone to dose off into the unknown where our imagination is let loose and no longer bound by the power of reality or looked down upon because you didn’t “have a dream that was good enough.” Mrs. Kat, our loving babysitter would do anything under the sun for her students. She would give encouragement to do better, kiss our scraped knee after an accident on the play ground, or even sing us to sleep if we were missing our parents. This was someone who I looked up to. If you think about it, teachers have as much of an impact on their students lives as the child’s parents. On average every kid spends about 6 hours a day with different teachers who have most likely been raised with different morals. These adults are responsible for a third of the type of person your child is going to become.

While growing up, my mentors focused on gliding through the school day with coffee in one hand and a misbehaved child on the other. They mostly pointed at something for us to do, tell us how to do it, check if we did it correctly, then move on. With writing assessments, I would get my paper back with scattered red slashes and comments all over my paper, saturating my...
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