Originally posted by wormwoodWell, it would probably be with a Brazilian accent to me. 🙂
I'm finnish, mas morei no rio de janeiro como criança, na ipanema. I came back to finland when I had to start school. I don't have accent anymore, and I can't really speak portuguese that well anymore. pronunciation still comes without an accent though.
Originally posted by wormwoodIt's not hard, it's melancholic. Our music, our culture, our architecture is all very melancholic. Saudade, you know!
heh, yeah. it also sounds odd to me if someone even from brasil is not talking with the rio accent. I guess it goes pretty deep when you learn it as a child... and you portuguese sound so hard! 🙂
It's really interesting how the same language can sound so different and especially feel so different.
Originally posted by reader1107Multiplication tables.
(school age 8 turning 9 during the year)
Really. I'm about to start my fifth year of teaching third grade, but it's been a long time since I remember being a third grade student. Nothing I remember has anything to do with academics. So what do you remember?
Dodgeball!
Being paddled in front of the whole class for fighting.
Everyone being sent home early the day John F. Kennedy was killed.
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Originally posted by reader1107Mrs. Swain was the teacher. She would give us poems to take home and memorize, then we'd have to get up in front of the class and recite them from memory. For the life of me I never understood what this accomplished. I can remember none of the other studies of the day, it was a long time ago. The schoolyard had to be an acre in size. I can remember this one kid, his name was David Blaisdell. I can remember snow on the ground at recess. We tied his hands behind his back with clothesline cord and gave him a 15 second head start. Then we would run him down and literally crush this poor shit into the ground, a dozen kids piling on top of him. Over and over again. Christ if we did that in this day and age they would have us all sent somewhere for counseling. Rubber Soul. Revolver. A kid in the sixth grade named Jimmy Jones asking me if I wanted a piece of candy and me saying yeah. It was a mothball. If I have learned one thing in my entire life, I learned it in the third grade. Do not bite into a mothball.
(school age 8 turning 9 during the year)
Really. I'm about to start my fifth year of teaching third grade, but it's been a long time since I remember being a third grade student. Nothing I remember has anything to do with academics. So what do you remember?
I remember going to school one day and my desk was gone!! Eventually I calmed down enough to see that I wasn't the only one. There were so many of us that they had to hire another teacher, and so they took some of us from each class. There's a moment to imprint insecurity forever! So that day while my former classmates were working hard, the new teacher had us making pumpkin decorations to hang around the room so that we'd feel a part of the room and a part of this new group. Couldn't tell you another thing that happened that year in school, but I'll never forget my desk being gone!
I moved to a new town and had 3 different teachers...Mrs. Franks, Mrs. Mohon, and Mrs. Arkreader...Mrs. Franks taught history and sent me to the office a lot when I didn't agree with her on discussions involving civil rights and black history(no im not a racist but she would try to make me and anyone else who was white in the class feel guilty because of what our ancestors did...oh, she got fired 1 year later for the same reason), umm, Mrs. Mohon taught language arts and Mrs. Arkreader taught science and math. we learned the basic structures of sentences and spelling words n stuff. in math we learned harder multiplication and division...every monday we went to the art lab, i got first place 6 years straight in the county fair with my pictures!!! lol, im really being serious...on tuesdays we went to P.E., Coach Saul, he later became my quarterback coach in Junior High School. On wednesday we went to music class, wow, that really sucked, especially learning how to square dance!!! lol, ne way, that was pretty much it.
Originally posted by reader1107My youngest just passed 3rd grade. According to her being the youngest in the class is the worst thing to happen to your social life. Making the grade 1 kids your allies is a good thing when it comes to attacking the grade 4 kids (power in numbers I think). Boyfriends are good to have ut only as long as they're kept secret boyfriends. Telling anyone makes them not boyfriends anymore. Teachers apparently hand out homework through esp, the kids that guess what needs to be done get passing grades. Teachers also don't know how to make the annoying kids be good and always punish the good kids when the bad kids to do bad things. All according to a 8 yr old. 😛
(school age 8 turning 9 during the year)
Really. I'm about to start my fifth year of teaching third grade, but it's been a long time since I remember being a third grade student. Nothing I remember has anything to do with academics. So what do you remember?
There is a game the kids play at recess called "Wall Ball". Basically the kids bring their baseball gloves and a tennis ball. They throw the ball at the outside wall of the school, as high as they can, where there are no windows. Then they catch it when it bounces back, it is a competition.
Then the kids getting off the bus have to run through the gauntlet of balls being thrown at the wall, to get to their class. This is a sport also.
I would give them lots of oral book reports to do in front of the class! Those are so cool. Tape them with a video camera, that way they are real nervous, some may start crying.:'(
When I was 8 years old, I remember getting a week off school and a free holiday with my grandma in England because the security folks found a huge bomb in a car at the gates...
There was also a kid who got let off PE for coming up with an excuse the teacher had never heard before. He said he painted his shorts silver and a magpie flew away with them.
Life as an army brat in Rheindalen, Germany.
EDIT: Oh yeah, and there was a girl in class who wanted to see my willy, and she gave me a bag of shillings. I nearly died when I saw my first hard-on. I didn't believe it was my dick... I suppose I've always been a prostitute, even if now I only get recs for my efforts...