My oldest is now 17 years and one day old. Technically, it's 17 years and 17 hours old, but who's counting? It hasn't exactly been the best birthday month for him. He did have an orthodontic appointment scheduled for his birthday; it couldn't be helped but since it was supposed to be a short one, it should have been fine. It wasn't. An hour and a half later he pulled in the driveway, breathing fire and spitting nails. He wasn't happy. And just a few days ago he took his first shot at the SAT, which left him drained more than he had expected and which created a monster who was higher than a kite for the rest of the day. The rest of us suffered through his incessant talking and excess energy, presumably the effects of stress and sitting quietly for too long.
Andrew is a writer (did I say he's a lot like his mother?) and he spent a good deal of time telling us about the written portion of the SAT. He explained that his AP English teacher has been working on essay skills all year so he felt very prepared. His strategy, passed down from his teacher, is to first explore any personal sob stories you might be able to use. He then gave us an example from English class. The students were to write, in class, an essay about a past experience that has significantly impacted their present. Andrew went on to describe his theme, using a surgery he had when he was four years old. The plight he told was not the same one I remembered.
"Wait a minute!" I had to interrupt. "You mean she tells you to lie to make a good essay?"
Yeah, Mom. She told us we could even make something up if we don't have an experience that relates to the topic. The goal is to write a good essay; not a biography.
Hmmm. He's got me thinking. What do you think?
No comments:
Post a Comment