Gratuitous Self-Promotion Sheltered By The Wafer-Thin Veil Of Analysis
Mr. [TMAO] was my English teacher at [that school in the east 408] during 7th grade. He was a big, chunky white guy who wore a formal suit with some dirty, ripped Converse sneakers.
On the first day of school Mr. [TMAO] gave us a reading test. I had really low scores, at the 4th grade level. I felt like retard. But Mr. [TMAO] encouraged me to do my best. Every day I would have to read at least two books from my grade level.
After a few months I had improved two grade levels. I felt really good about myself. I felt smarter, confident, and proud. When I went home I read books, too. My favorite book was House on Mango Street, by Sandra Cisneros. It was really hard work because I had problems reading. But I wanted to learn badly enough to read at my house! I didn't want to fail, and I wanted to show Mr. [TMAO] that I could do it.
When school ended I achieved my goal of reaching my reading level. I got a B in Mr. [TMAO's] class thanks to his help and my hard work.
My thinking here is don't need a résumé anymore. I'll just send this along.
You want to know how I get things done? Second graph, where I bust out a diagnostic and share the results – no matter how bad – in affirming, positive ways. From there we see evidence of meaningful practice and relevant work. There is a clear goal evidenced in the third graph, an ambitious end-point students work toward. Better still, we see communication regarding progress toward this goal. We see investment, empowerment, and in the last sentence, a clear understanding of that success equation: "his help and my hard work."
And man, you want to know if I get things done? Take a look at the first graph. Someone taught this kid how to utilize adjectives, and I'm pretty sure it was me.