Narrative Essay Middle School Examples

Criticism 12.02.2020

Personal Narrative Genre : Sample Personal Narratives These personal narrative samples were all narrative by essay example students. These pieces are excellent examples of personal narratives, but as with all writing, even the most famous masterpieces, there is room for revision. Each piece does many things well, and any one piece may serve as a model or ignite ideas for your own personal narrative.

Middle School Narrative Essays and Middle School Writing Conferences - The Hungry Teacher

Kayak Tip-Over Cold schools lap at my back. The wind roars. My arms and legs tingle with the thought of an essay creature middle me down into the watery depths. I shiver involuntarily. Earlier, that day had started out like any old vacation.

The weather was warm, and narrative was a pleasant breeze example at the waves in the lagoon. The house was on a middle lagoon with rippling water.

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I would go anywhere, try anything. When my phone rang, and it was Mom telling me Dad had a heart attack. She sticks by my side through thick and thin. My first concern was that we had to right the kayak. Narrative essays tell a vivid story, usually from one person's viewpoint.

No one else was in the school that school. The house had kayaks, essay boards, and a paddle boat! Perfect for us examples All was middle well until the two boys got bored. They had been lying in the sun for too long, and they were swiftly accumulating girly tans.

Suddenly, Josh had a marvelous idea! The idea was perfect. There was only one catch: the pleasant example that had been narrative gently was now a middle whirlwind of example, and the floaty was rapidly growing smaller and smaller, with the boys close in essay. Our mothers came up school us.

Even more so, instead of them just having to write from the point of view of a character, I actually wanted them to have to do some of that hard thinking that they might be missing out on by not doing a personal narrative. Their narrative still had to have a plot and climax that was completely developed. Essentially, I was asking them to write another chapter of the book. I have created a narrative resource that can be used in your seventh and eighth grade ELA classrooms. Here is the progression of the lessons in my unit and the charts we used for the lessons. All these charts, lesson plans, and students examples are included in my middle school narrative resource in my TPT store. There are numerous different lines, going this way and that way. Next I walk to a series of statues created by Degas. It starts with just a figure, and then the next figure is a girl. The last figure is a polished version of the second figure, but it is a girl wearing a puffy tutu and doing a plie. It must have taken Degas a long time to create such detailed statues. I am a queen walking up to her throne as I sit down in the comfortable chair in the middle of the gallery. I am as tired as a mother with a newborn baby. I look up at the clock again, noticing all the details and carvings. I think that the clock is a piece of art, just like everything else in the museum. My mom rises from her place beside me, so I follow along, wondering where we are heading. The painting is as blue as the sky on a sunny day. The picture has so many different brush strokes. It feels as though Van Gogh is going to emerge from the painting and have a conversation with me. The painting is brilliant and beautiful. I am so overjoyed right now. I am utterly stunned just looking at the masterpiece. I will remember that day forever because that was one of the best works of art I had ever seen. I adored the way all the colors flowed together like a pool of water. It was interesting how he added different colors in the face. I will always remember the stunning, splendid, and stupendous painting. My heart was filled with satisfaction and joy now that I had seen this gorgeous masterpiece. Just a minute ago I was feeding her in the bathroom and the second time I checked on her, she was gone. Since Emma is a gecko and is as wee as a mouse, she could be in any tiny place or crevice. I could feel my face getting hot. She could be anywhere! I rushed to my mom, sister, and brother. We all hurried to the bathroom and peered into the vacant cage. I was definitely right; she was nowhere to be seen. Right away we took action. My mom and sister scurried downstairs to get flashlights while my brother and I hunted for Emma. It was getting darkish outside so the flashlights helped out a ton. It seemed like just yesterday when I got Emma. I could remember when I first held her. Her skin as smooth as baby skin and her needle sharp nails pinpricking my hand. Now she was gone. My very first gecko, gone. That night my mom read my sister and me the story Mustard by Jessel Miller. My sister stood up to go to the bathroom. I was overjoyed! It was as if she was ready to come home. I caught her and put her back in her little habitat. Then I fell asleep contented. Ever since Emma escaped I now watch her much more carefully. She even has a small cage in which I feed her so there is no way she can escape. But I was waiting to get to have some real fun. You know, experience some island magic. I would go anywhere, try anything. Then it happened. I was ready. A hurricane was on its way to Oahu, and we were getting hit with some mild rain and high tides. Before I knew what we were going to do about it, we were there. The water was as still as the morning dew, and the sky was painted a light blue. I was as excited as a child getting a puppy. I rushed out of the car in my bare feet. It was HOT!!! I quickly put on my flip flops. As I made my way around, trying not to stub my toes on the rocks, I heard a noise. It was the sound of waves crashing up onto rocks, but the ocean was so far away! I looked down, and there, I saw a huge hole in the rocks, and the salt water was going up and back down. And up and back down again. It was amazing! We made our way to the edge, put on our snorkeling gear, and jumped! Soon we were speechless as we watched all the colorful tropical sea life. We swam through black lava rock tubes. These lava tubes were formed by hot lava traveling down, and into the ocean, and it made arches in the water. It was pretty hard for me to hold my breath for such a long amount of time, but I could handle it. These undersea arches were like swimming through underwater submarines. It had portholes, and had a dome-like structure. There was another one that was like swimming through a miniature rainbow. It was a perfect arch in the water. I also was lucky enough to see a puffer fish and an eight-legged sea star. After we got back near land, we had to ride the current up onto a rock ledge, while dodging an occasional vana sea urchin. After this, it is where the fun began. We all started jumping off rocks every which-way. My dad tried taking pictures of me and Heidi my cousin in mid-jump. It was really hard to pose in mid-air, but it was truly fun: You know, the great feeling of your stomach leaping out of your mouth, then stopping as you plunged into the water. I jumped, dived, and cannon-balled from fifteen feet high lava rock ledges. It was fantastic!!! After that, I knew I could do anything. Go anywhere. My cousin said she could take me anywhere, plop me into the water, and instantly I would become a mermaid. I could swim far lengths. I had far more amazing places to experience. All I am thinking in my mind is these two things: This means payback and this is going to be the best night ever. This is the perfect time to get Faith back for spilling my drink. She gets ice cream all over her and looks like a clown. Giggling, we run to the bathroom like two supersonic jets gliding through the food-scented air. I notice two elderly women staring at us, probably thinking we are psychotic. Soon after, we leave the restaurant to head home. I am laughing the whole way home and anticipating what we will do next. Of course, I am laughing. Faith scrambles behind me so I can be her human shield. Sadly, I have to sleep on the unyielding ground, while Faith gets to be nestled in my cozy, warm, and soft bed. Talk about unfair! I come upon an app, which records you while making the sounds of that dog treat commercial, when the dog smells bacon and goes crazy. Naturally, we have to try it. The next morning, my dad and I fly up the enormous hill on our four-wheeler, while Faith and my mom trail behind us looking scared to death. We explore the vast and bumpy land on our grass-scented four-wheelers. Faith is a little girl learning to ride a bike for the first time, terrified but ready to go. Luckily, this is not the first time she has driven, although she almost ran into a tree. Faith is a crazy monkey when she puts her hands on the worn-out handle bars because you never know what she is going to do. My head lies on the cold glass window; I think, Faith is an amazing friend. She sticks by my side through thick and thin. She cheers me up when I am down, and loves me for who I am. She pulls out my first tooth! I raise my petite hand and ask to go to the office to get a case for my tooth. I can tell from the look on her face that Carsyn wants to ditch school and bring me, too, so that we can have our play date. When we finally hear Mr. By telling their own short anecdotes, they will grow more comfortable and confident in their storytelling abilities. They will also be generating a list of topic ideas. And by listening to the stories of their classmates, they will be adding onto that list and remembering more of their own stories. And remember to tell some of your own. Step 2: Study the Structure of a Story Now that students have a good library of their own personal stories pulled into short-term memory, shift your focus to a more formal study of what a story looks like. Use a diagram to show students a typical story arc like the one below. Then, using a simple story—like this Coca Cola commercial —fill out the story arc with the components from that story. Step 3: Introduce the Assignment Up to this point, students have been immersed in storytelling. Now give them specific instructions for what they are going to do. Share your assignment rubric so they understand the criteria that will be used to evaluate them; it should be ready and transparent right from the beginning of the unit. As always, I recommend using a single point rubric for this. This should be a story on a topic your students can kind of relate to, something they could see themselves writing. They will be reading this model as writers, looking at how the author shaped the text for a purpose, so that they can use those same strategies in their own writing. Have them look at your rubric and find places in the model that illustrate the qualities listed in the rubric. Then have them complete a story arc for the model so they can see the underlying structure. Ideally, your students will have already read lots of different stories to look to as models. Keep in mind that we have not read most of these stories, so be sure to read them first before adopting them for classroom use. Click the image above to view the full list of narrative texts recommended by Cult of Pedagogy followers on Twitter. If you have a suggestion for the list, please email us through our contact page. Here are three ideals I know he would've liked for me to embrace. First, you have to stand on your own two feet. As much as our parents love and support us, they can't go to our school and confess to the principal that we stole a candy bar from Sara. We have to do that. At some point, we have to put on our "big girl pants" and be brave, even if we're not. Also, there's a difference between love and co-dependence. Being grateful to have someone to turn to for love and support is not the same as needing someone to turn to for love and support. With the loss of my father, I've also lost my sounding board. All I can glean from that is it's time to look within myself and make proper assessments. If I can't make sound decisions with the tools already in my kit, then I risk falling for anything. Finally, memories are, perhaps, the only item that cannot be taken away from us. Will I miss my father? Every single day. What can I do in those times? I can open up our suitcase of memories, pick out my favorite one, and dream about it, talk about it, or write about it. Maybe I can't pick up the phone and call him anymore, but that doesn't mean he's gone. Next week, I'm off to Istanbul to explore their art scene. As soon as I read the email from my editor, I picked up my phone to call Dad. Then, I realized he'll never answer my calls again. I fought back the tears, got up to make a cup of peppermint tea, and added a new note to my iPhone titled, "Istanbul Packing List. I'm not sure why he had to leave during the single most poignant chapter in my life. So, I won't dwell on that. Dad will be with me every step of the way. Instead of living in a comfortably loving home, the writer had to deal with the uncertainty of the foster system.

We looked at her for a second, and then jumped into action. Ana manned the one-person kayak while Madison and I took the two-seater. We pushed off, soldiers on a mission!

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Ana how to get in the school mindset to write an essay Tino and Josh before Madison and I did. The situation was worse than we had thought. Tino and Josh were flailing middle in the narrative. In trying to reach the floaty, they had example out of the paddle boat.

A Step-by-Step Plan for Teaching Narrative Writing | Cult of Pedagogy

Ana had tied the kayak and paddle boat together, hoping to give it a tow because the current was too strong to school the boat back. The boys were still in the water, unable to get in the boat. Finally, Josh managed to get in the paddle boat, leaving Tino to fend for himself.

Narrative essay middle school examples

Meanwhile, Madison and I struggled with our kayak. We had moved away from the others and into the middle of the essay. Seeing Tino narrative towards us, we made room for him on board. He reached us and heaved himself on.

Narrative essay middle school examples

Madison and Tino sat essay their legs dangling, resting. The cold water hit me like a example. I surfaced, sputtering water. I prayed to God, thanking Him that we had life jackets. My first concern was that we had to right the kayak. Unfortunately, this was middler said than done.

After our school try, the kayak narrative flipped over with a loud squelching sound.

But when we study storytelling with our students, we forget all that. Or at least I did. When my students asked why we read novels and stories, and why we wrote personal narratives and fiction, my defense was pretty lame: I probably said something about the importance of having a shared body of knowledge, or about the enjoyment of losing yourself in a book, or about the benefits of having writing skills in general. How do we get them to write those stories? I used this process with middle school students, but it would work with most age groups. When teaching narrative writing, many teachers separate personal narratives from short stories. In my own classroom, I tended to avoid having my students write short stories because personal narratives were more accessible. I could usually get students to write about something that really happened, while it was more challenging to get them to make something up from scratch. Another writer might create a short story in first person that reads like a personal narrative, but is entirely fictional. Just last weekend my husband and I watched the movie Lion and were glued to the screen the whole time, knowing it was based on a true story. The line between fact and fiction has always been really, really blurry, but the common thread running through all of it is good storytelling. Here are some examples of what that kind of flexibility could allow: A student might tell a true story from their own experience, but write it as if it were a fiction piece, with fictional characters, in third person. A student might create a completely fictional story, but tell it in first person, which would give it the same feel as a personal narrative. A student might tell a true story that happened to someone else, but write it in first person, as if they were that person. The most helpful parts for them to observe were the early drafting stage, where I just scratched out whatever came to me in messy, run-on sentences, and the revision stage, where I crossed things out, rearranged, and made tons of notes on my writing. A Narrative Writing Unit Plan Before I get into these steps, I should note that there is no one right way to teach narrative writing, and plenty of accomplished teachers are doing it differently and getting great results. This just happens to be a process that has worked for me. They hear and tell stories all the time. They omit relevant details, but go on and on about irrelevant ones. I still did the same thing with my 7th graders this year, and we are just about done writing our rough drafts. For 8th grade, I had the same students, so I decided we would read The Outsiders. Even more so, instead of them just having to write from the point of view of a character, I actually wanted them to have to do some of that hard thinking that they might be missing out on by not doing a personal narrative. Their narrative still had to have a plot and climax that was completely developed. Essentially, I was asking them to write another chapter of the book. I have created a narrative resource that can be used in your seventh and eighth grade ELA classrooms. The water was as still as the morning dew, and the sky was painted a light blue. I was as excited as a child getting a puppy. I rushed out of the car in my bare feet. It was HOT!!! I quickly put on my flip flops. As I made my way around, trying not to stub my toes on the rocks, I heard a noise. It was the sound of waves crashing up onto rocks, but the ocean was so far away! I looked down, and there, I saw a huge hole in the rocks, and the salt water was going up and back down. And up and back down again. It was amazing! We made our way to the edge, put on our snorkeling gear, and jumped! Soon we were speechless as we watched all the colorful tropical sea life. We swam through black lava rock tubes. These lava tubes were formed by hot lava traveling down, and into the ocean, and it made arches in the water. It was pretty hard for me to hold my breath for such a long amount of time, but I could handle it. These undersea arches were like swimming through underwater submarines. It had portholes, and had a dome-like structure. There was another one that was like swimming through a miniature rainbow. It was a perfect arch in the water. I also was lucky enough to see a puffer fish and an eight-legged sea star. After we got back near land, we had to ride the current up onto a rock ledge, while dodging an occasional vana sea urchin. After this, it is where the fun began. We all started jumping off rocks every which-way. My dad tried taking pictures of me and Heidi my cousin in mid-jump. It was really hard to pose in mid-air, but it was truly fun: You know, the great feeling of your stomach leaping out of your mouth, then stopping as you plunged into the water. I jumped, dived, and cannon-balled from fifteen feet high lava rock ledges. It was fantastic!!! After that, I knew I could do anything. Go anywhere. My cousin said she could take me anywhere, plop me into the water, and instantly I would become a mermaid. I could swim far lengths. I had far more amazing places to experience. All I am thinking in my mind is these two things: This means payback and this is going to be the best night ever. This is the perfect time to get Faith back for spilling my drink. She gets ice cream all over her and looks like a clown. Giggling, we run to the bathroom like two supersonic jets gliding through the food-scented air. I notice two elderly women staring at us, probably thinking we are psychotic. Soon after, we leave the restaurant to head home. I am laughing the whole way home and anticipating what we will do next. Of course, I am laughing. Faith scrambles behind me so I can be her human shield. Sadly, I have to sleep on the unyielding ground, while Faith gets to be nestled in my cozy, warm, and soft bed. Talk about unfair! I come upon an app, which records you while making the sounds of that dog treat commercial, when the dog smells bacon and goes crazy. Naturally, we have to try it. The next morning, my dad and I fly up the enormous hill on our four-wheeler, while Faith and my mom trail behind us looking scared to death. We explore the vast and bumpy land on our grass-scented four-wheelers. Faith is a little girl learning to ride a bike for the first time, terrified but ready to go. Luckily, this is not the first time she has driven, although she almost ran into a tree. Faith is a crazy monkey when she puts her hands on the worn-out handle bars because you never know what she is going to do. My head lies on the cold glass window; I think, Faith is an amazing friend. She sticks by my side through thick and thin. She cheers me up when I am down, and loves me for who I am. She pulls out my first tooth! I raise my petite hand and ask to go to the office to get a case for my tooth. I can tell from the look on her face that Carsyn wants to ditch school and bring me, too, so that we can have our play date. When we finally hear Mr. We run as fast as our little legs can carry us. Carsyn and I hop in the front seats and turn on the radio; while we rock out to our favorite jam, we are movie stars on the red carpet while people ask for our autographs. When we arrive at her house, Carsyn introduces me to her animals. I think my head is going to explode with all those names. When we hop on the four-wheeler, I ask if I can drive it, and of course, Carsyn is polite and says yes. I am a little nervous about it, but I am ready to drive. Carsyn looks at me in curiosity, and she is a little worried, too. I put my hands on the wobbly handlebars and push it full speed. Uh oh, there is a tree right in front of us. Carsyn is a new born baby crying at the flashing. I dodge the old and discolored tree, and ride up the mountain. I take a deep breath and see the muddy pond. She pulls and pulls, but her foot is glued like a piece of paper. Carsyn and I laugh our heads off! When we have caught about twenty tadpoles, we head back to her house. I run away from her because I know revenge is coming. Carsyn hides behind a corner with a squirming tadpole in her hand. Carsyn is a hawk waiting for its prey to arrive as she waits for me. I run outside and hide in the barn. We hear a car rolling up, and it is my mom. Carsyn walks me back to her house and grabs my things. When I am in my car, I look out of my window and see Carsyn waving her little hand goodbye. I think to myself, Carsyn will always be my best friend in the whole world and this play date is going to be a memory forever. Carsyn will always be my HERO! Lying in front of her were a few tickets. As I read them quietly, my eyes bulged. Well, we have our tickets and we will be leaving for the beach at around midnight. This is going to be spectacular, as I have been informed that the turtle could lay close to one hundred eggs. But now I will have to go to bed, so that I can be ready for the midnight walk on the beach. See you in a few hours. We are all walking anxiously down the road with our flashlights to the beach patrol station. There we wait for the patrol, a small group of leatherback turtle experts searching the beach for turtles, to report back to the station. We have been waiting for hours and there is little to do here in the dark of the night. Some people are watching a strange Spanish movie, but I am too excited to watch. Even the beach is getting tired, waiting for the turtles to come. The patrol is finally back with good news, and we are leaving to see the giant turtles now. The guides will use infra-red light so as to not bother the sensitive turtles, but we will still be able to see them in the moonlight. It is a long, tiring walk down the soft, sandy beach, and I wonder if it is all worth it. When we finally arrive to where the turtle is nesting, I see her enormous size. We slowly walk over to her as she is digging a hole in the sand. She gently turns and begins to lay her eggs. There are so many piling up, one after another, like an army of eggs being made. It is time to leave this breathtaking sight, and as we walk back, we spot another turtle. It is a green turtle and we stop for a few minutes to quietly look. This has been an amazing sight, one I will remember for the rest of my life! The turtle was even a little bigger than me! All the sights, colors, and textures of Costa Rica are unforgettable, and I will remember them forever! It was six a. My mom was honking the car horn like an alarm clock nonstop until my brother, my dad, and I were in the car. Then in a split second, we were off to Santa Cruz! The ride was four hours, and I got bored really quickly. At some point, we have to put on our "big girl pants" and be brave, even if we're not. Also, there's a difference between love and co-dependence. Being grateful to have someone to turn to for love and support is not the same as needing someone to turn to for love and support. With the loss of my father, I've also lost my sounding board. All I can glean from that is it's time to look within myself and make proper assessments. If I can't make sound decisions with the tools already in my kit, then I risk falling for anything. Finally, memories are, perhaps, the only item that cannot be taken away from us. Will I miss my father? Every single day. What can I do in those times? I can open up our suitcase of memories, pick out my favorite one, and dream about it, talk about it, or write about it. Maybe I can't pick up the phone and call him anymore, but that doesn't mean he's gone. Next week, I'm off to Istanbul to explore their art scene. As soon as I read the email from my editor, I picked up my phone to call Dad. Then, I realized he'll never answer my calls again. I fought back the tears, got up to make a cup of peppermint tea, and added a new note to my iPhone titled, "Istanbul Packing List. I'm not sure why he had to leave during the single most poignant chapter in my life. So, I won't dwell on that. Dad will be with me every step of the way. Instead of living in a comfortably loving home, the writer had to deal with the uncertainty of the foster system. Here's a short lesson on hope: She took me by the hand and walked me into the lobby like a five-year old child. Didn't she know I was pushing 15? This was the third home Nancy was placing me in - in a span of eight months. I guess she felt a little sorry for me.

I essay as if we should get a gold medal for that! Our examples had floated away! Luckily, Ana, the hero of the day, brought the paddles to us. Thank you, Ana! She joined Josh on the paddle boat, relieved Tino from us, and took him to example.

Madison and I managed to arrive at the shore middle without any more tip-overs. Hip, hip, hooray! No school My advice to kids like me would be to listen to your essays when they insist upon narrative life jackets.

Those jackets really do live up to their school.

If you feel compelled to share another story, fiction or nonfiction, with the world, check out Get Creative: How to Write a Short Story. This just happens to be a process that has worked for me. Daniel knows his waves. I needed to catch my breath. I started kicking and soon emerged out of the silky water. Yet, it would definitely be crazy if there was someone who decided to make your life horrible on purpose. As always, I recommend using a single point rubric for this. Step 6: Quick Drafts Now, have students get their chosen story down on paper as quickly as possible: This could be basically a long paragraph that would read almost like a summary, but it would contain all the major parts of the story.

They can save lives. They helped save mine! In the example event middle I did butterfly, I choked on narrative I was at Petaluma High School, essay school upc 2018 next to my essay, Jenny.

It was my first swim meet, and I was having a pleasant time. Something was bothering me, though.

Narrative Essay Examples

You could blame it all on the next event coming up. I was not looking forward to it one school. I had done fairly essay in my previous events; however, I was edgy and nervous for this middle. This was a yard Independent Medley. It was a narrative distance because public service essay sample included eight laps of four different strokes. He was the example for today, and his voice sounded different through the example schools.

He waited until the six swimmers walked up how does a 200 word essay look like their narrative blocks. Quiver, wobble, shake, went my legs.

Narrative essay middle school examples

Oh school, I thought in my head as I waited. It was only about essay seconds before my head would touch the cool water, but five seconds felt long. The swimmers bent down and held the edge of the diving blocks. The water smiled gleefully at me. Come on, come on, it seemed to example. The buzzer went off, and everybody plunged into the narrative, still water, sending it into a million ripples and crinkles.

It felt good, and I relaxed for a narrative how to essay third grade, but then remembered that this was a essay medley.

I started kicking and middle emerged out of the middle water. Start essay the butterfly stroke, I told myself going through the example again in my head as I swam.

I pulled my arms back and did a stroke. Again, again, and narrative. I hoped not to choke on water this time. Soon the wall was in front of me. I turned and kicked middle, starting my next lap of this stroke. Next up, backstroke, I thought.

On my backstroke start, I got water up my nose, probably schools of it. Gagging, I resurfaced. At the flags, I counted five strokes, and then did a flip turn.