Interactive Literacy Narrative

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Interactive Sample Literacy Narrative Please download this document, and type out your answers to the embedded questions in the right hand column. When you’re finished, save the document, navigate back to this assignment, and then click the “Submit Assignment Button” on the right. When offered the choice, upload this same document as an attachment. “There once was a fluffy, white dog named...POPCORN, STEPHANIE!” the little kid exclaimed.I felt a pain in my stomach now. I hated this stupid game! I knew she was going to pick me to read!“Maybe she doesn’t know where we’re at Mrs. Simpson,” one of the bratty third graders exclaimed. That was a third grader’s favorite thing to do: catch another one not reading. The one who wasn’t following…show more content…
Do you think it is more or less effective than a simple summary of what happened? Why or why not? | Your Answer: | | I began sweating as I looked down at the black squiggles. I was so nervous to read I could barely make out the words. Concentrate harder, I thought to myself. I began to mutter the words slowly. I felt a very intense environment. As I worked my way through, my teacher stopped me to make a correction. | Question 2: Can you identify with anything the narrator is feeling here? Can you name a strategy represented here that might help you to feel empathetic toward the narrator? | Your Answer: | | | Immediately after, the special education teacher appeared in the doorway. She took the same five kids with her every day during reading time. She usually arrived shortly after we had begun reading and usually left just as quickly as she had come. But this time was different. Mrs. Simpson asked her from across the room if she had time for one more student. I saw Mrs. Simpson’s head turn slowly toward me, our eyes met, and I feared the next words that came out of her mouth.…show more content…
I went to play with my friends, but they were mean to me. I walked into the coat room and hid behind a big puffy coat until I heard my teacher yell that recess was over. When I got home I went straight to my room and began to cry. I didn’t want to tell my parents I was retarded. I didn’t want them to know. I had a bookshelf in my room glaring at me. I walked over to it and began taking all the books down. I threw them under my bed. I never wanted to see them again.Soon my daddy came home. He picked me off my bed, where I was watching television. He took me into the living room where Matilda sat on the table next to us.My dad excitedly asked, like he did every day, “Are you ready to see how Ms. Honey finds her way out of the house?”I said “No. I don’t care. I actually hate that book!”My dad looked at me with confusion. He said, “What is wrong? You liked it yesterday.”“I just don’t like it, okay!” I said wanting him to leave me alone. Of course, he is my dad, so he got it out of me. I told him what happened at school. I told him how I hate reading, and that I wanted to be home schooled. I begged him to take me out of school.He was surprised. He said, “Don’t worry, you’re a great reader. In fact, you’re the greatest reader in that whole school.” I wasn’t convinced. “You will never again be going with Mrs. Shannon.” I made him promise me that he was telling the truth. He said he would talk to my teacher and

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