Composition

This will be my composition page.
I am publishing my essays, that I wrote in my Advanced Composition class.
I am looking forward to share my essays and I hope that you will enjoy reading them.



This is the first essay I wrote in my Composition class in September 2013 after reading The Toolbox by Stephen King.

On the right path

I never thought about becoming a carpenter, even though I was fascinated about working with wood. Two weeks, though, I used the opportunity to take a woods class. I have already learned a lot about the different tools.

The same process of new experiences is going on with my English at the moment. I have been in the United States of America for five weeks now and my language skills are growing constantly. It is happening so fast, that it seems to be a wonderful dream. In this, I have already begun to improve my writing skills and tools.

My toolbox-story is different. It began with the sentence “My name is Alexandra”, which I wrote when I came into my first English class in seventh grade. I learned vocabulary and grammar rules and after a few weeks I wrote my first English composition: a little poem about the color blue.

Time passed and my compositions grew. Almost three and a half years later I had to write my first important letter in English. It took so long, it was so difficult and I wrote it for somebody who I didn`t know at that time. This letter was my introduction to my host family.

Just yesterday, I reread the letter I wrote so long ago, and I plan to read it again at the end of the year. As I read I realized that I will never write a letter like this again.  It is clumsy, unsteady, like the first steps of a child. It showed me how quickly my English has improved.

Finally, I am sitting here writing my first real essay in English.

In my toolbox there is a lot of space left for all the different tools. I am excited to fill that space, but I am also a little bit nervous because it has to and it will happen so fast.

I feed the first level of my toolbox every day with an uncountable number of new words. Sometimes in the evening I feel like a sponge and I almost drip. To drip: another new word for my toolbox today.

While I was reading Stephen King’s “Toolbox” I learned a large amount of words in such a short period of time. In fact, I learned about 70 words and I found a couple words that I couldn`t find in my dictionary. Besides that I learned in which context to use these new and other words that I already knew.

In my mind  there are different types of vocabuary: a visual type and a spoken type, and an active and a passive vocabulary. My goal is to extend my active writing vocabulary. I understand a lot of words, but I would never use them, because I just wouldn`t remember them while speaking or writing. Sometimes there is no English word for something I would like to say, only a Russian, German, French or Latin word. Either that, or I look into my dictionary, my faithful companion, and there are five words for one German word-which one should I choose?

The situation with my grammar is special, because English isn`t my mother language. Native speakers learn the grammar almost automaticallly. For me there is a different process. I still have to think about the word order in a sentence, the “place before time” rule, which tense I have to use or where I need to put a comma. I have to admonish myself to use gerunds and participles and even spelling is sometimes a problem for me. Another trap is irregular verbs. I spent a whole summer break learning English irregular verbs and I still make mistakes, because there are so many. Luckily I don`t have the time to think about grammar when I speak, I just feel what I have to say. I am looking forward to this moment, when I am to just write without thinking about grammar.

The third level of my toolbox should include the structure of a composition. People think that this is easy; that it doesn’t matter which language you use, the thoughts are still the same. But this is wrong. I would never think the same thought in English or in German or in Russian. This is because each language has its own system and rhythm.

I don`t really like this part of my toolbox. It is kind of unorganized and untidy. I always feel that it takes me too much time to organize my thoughts and to get a tidy result.

As I said in the beginning I never thought about being a carpenter, but now I tried it out and it turned out to be fun. I also never thought about becoming a writer, because I was afraid of making mistakes or writing boring stuff. But now I thought about writing in another way. I believe I will try it, and hopefully learn that it can be fun. I know that I am on the right path, because I will try to write even if I will only write for myself. Fortunately, there is no wrong or right. At least not in my mind.

That`s why I am sure that I am ready to construct my own English toolbox.

Alexandra Duenner

This is the second essay written in November 2013.

College Application Essay

Imagine looking through a window at any environment that is particulary significant to you. Reflect on the scene, paying close attention to the relation between what you are seeing and why it is meaningful to you. (Williams College)

In the Stars

It was New Years Eve and it was freezing outside. Everybody was happy to be inside, in the warm house.

Just like every year, we were celebrating the New Year at home. We were eating baguettes with caviar and we watched Dinner for One, a TV show which has become a New Year`s ritual in my family over the years.

I was sick, so I decided to go to bed early and to sleep into the New Year. But after a few hours I woke up and my clock told me that it was half past ten. One hour and a half  until 2013!

I couldn`t fall asleep any more, so I stood up, grabbed my fountain pen and a piece of paper and sat down under my aclove skylight window in my room. It was silent and the sky was clear. There were crystals of ice on my window. Their beauty and tenderness caught my attention for a few moments and I thought that I would like to be as perfect as nature.

I sat there in my warm blankets for a while and watched the stars. There were millions of stars in the sky. I saw the polar star, the big wagon... though unfortunately I don`t know much more about stars, but that didn`t matter. Only myself, the silence and the beauty of the stars were important.

It was a magical moment of peace. Everything seemed to hold the breath in the last hours of the year.

After a while I started thinking about the past year, what I achieved and what I could have done better. I looked back to a year full of special moments. I had received high marks in school, I acted in a successful play, I passed my Kung-Fu exam, and I went to Padua to perform in a concert. I was proud of myself and it was time to think about new goals for the next year.

My first goal is to stay organized; it is kind of a basis upon which I can build. The second one was getting good grades at school. I understand school as my job and I would like to leave all the doors opened for the next years of my life. Another goal that I wrote down was to spend more time with my friends, because I had only a few month left with them. The fourth goal is always on my list since I started writing a goal list every year. It is to practice playing my violin more, even if it is sometimes hard to find the time. Unfortunately I did not reach my next goal, which was to get the Congress –Bundestag scholarship. The sixth goal: to go into my exchange year open minded ready to enjoy. I was ready to step up to the plate.

I stopped. I shouldn`t write more, because I have to stay in the frame. The frame of the window only allowed me to see a small part of the sky and I should only focus on what my frame allows me.

I looked out of my window again and I thought: “It is written in the stars.” I didn`t know and I couldn`t imagine what would happen during the next year. It was a New Years Eve with a lot of uncertainty, but I was looking forward to this challenge.

I put my pen down and when I looked back to the sky a falling star flew across the sky. Now I could wish something and I wished that I would have the chance to reach all my goals in the next year.

The ticking of the clock reminded me, that the New Year was only three minutes away.

I didn`t know what to do with the last three minutes of the year. I had everything that I needed to finish done. So I took my iPod and put the headphones in my ears. A violin started to play Mozart`s Little Night Music and a few seconds later the fireworks started. The sky turned red, blue, purple, green and yellow and the New Year brought me so many chances.

The following esssay is inspired by the daily "Word-of-the-Day" sessions, in which one student explains and demonstrates the meaning of a rarely used word.

Umbrella

„Umbrella-ella-ella-e-e-e“

I thought about these normal things: the definition of the word. I was thinking about picking another word, because umbrella seemed boring. But then this phrase from a song by Rihanna popped into my head and I knew: “That`s it! Umbr-rolled rrrr-ella”!

I don`t know the rest of the words to this song, but this phrase is stuck in my head. Umbrella-ella-ella-e-e-e” again and again.

Maybe I should write about umbrellas now. Otherwise I will sit here until the next rain starts, contemplating “Umbrella-elle-ella-e-e-e”.

What do I use an umbrella for? Most often when it rains. Normally, I sit in the car and the only thing I don`t want to do is to get out of the car, because it raining and I forgot my jacket at home. Then I get out, run around the car, get it out of the trunk, unbundle it and hoist it above my head. It protects me, I don`t get wet anymore and my hair stays where it has to be; at least not sticking to my head and dripping on my shirt.

But then I enter the building. It`s always the same: no spot to put my protecting companion.

Right, it is my friend. Umbrellas always were my friends. As a child I had a transparent one tipped in different colors. Unfortunately, umbrellas break very often, not strong enough to resist a storm. The wind is one of the few enemies an umbrella has. The other danger an umbrella must face is to get lost.

Especially, when I lost my turquoise one. I was upset, as it matched so nicely with my coat. Once I got into a store to buy a new one, I am wet, because it started raining in the most inconvinient situation, the world looks completely different. I see all the different sizes and colors. There are small ones, under which a single person can barely fit, and huge ones which could protect an entire family.

Looking through a variety of umbrellas, I remember watching the inaugural speech of Obama. The crowd stood in front of the Capitol as it rained. Nevertheless, it could not have been more colorful, because everyone had an umbrella and each umbrella was of a different hue.

Crowds normally are not conducive to umbrellas. It is crowded, everybody is jostling and the assistant becomes a troublesome object, getting stuck, badgering people`s umbrellas.

It is much more pleasant to go for a rainy walk, alone under your big umbrella. You hear the heavy drops falling on your umbrella and the duet that the rain and your umbrella play calms you down. I sink deeper and deeper into my thoughts remembering how impressed I was by the Geishas in Japan. They wore Kimonos and their faces were painted white, but my eyes fixed upon their paper umbrellas, protecting them from the sun. They matched perfectly with their outfits, placing a mystical shadow on the Geishas' faces.

Lavender in color, not heavy and like a big bowl, turned upside down, this is the umbrella I fall in love with. I pay and walk outside, back into the rain. I feel happy and I start singing “I`m singing in the rain, I`m dancing in the rain...”

A few minutes later the rain stops, the sun comes out and I? I am still dancing around my umbrella.

This is the last essay I wrote in my Composition class. It is reflecting the progress of the semester. It is a second toolbox essay.

 

Opened Doors

My toolbox is right next to me on the table. I am taking my time, looking through it again and looking at each tool carefully. A smile decorates my face: I have been able to collect more tools, it looks organized and there is no rust or dirt. I don’t want to be high-spirited, but I am a little bit proud.

I did not inherit my toolbox; I had to work hard to build it. Especially over the last month.  I expanded its content enormously and learned how to use it and how to work on improving it.

Compared to five month ago, the top level seems to be full. Each and every word is trying to jump out of the box, spread across my paper and dance with each other. My eyes are caught by the little leather bag, in which I store all of my “words of the day”. The words are shiny... polished for special occasions.

I also became successful at extinguishing expressions such as “a lot of”, “kind of” and “like” to the far corner of my box and instead revive my paper with vivid variations.

On the other side of my toolbox, grammar is neatly arranged in little stacks. Held together by red rubber bands, there is a conjunction stack, in correct alphabetical order, followed by a prounoun stack. On top of the verb stack, I placed a little note: “Irregular Verbs! Take-took-taken your time otherwise we will be forget-forgot-forgotten. ” It reminds me that I still have to work on my toolbox.

The punctuation pile has a red sticky note as well. “Comma and semi-colons,” it says. Those two guys still provide oodles of confusion.

I am lucky that my next level consists of proof reading skills. There is a screwdriver to tighten or loosen expressions, to correct or add more meaning, and to adjust whatever needs adjusting. There are also pliers to yank words out of the wrong spots and a hammer to tap them back into the perfect place, if necessary.

A very valuable piece of paper sticks out of my proof reading section. I wrote a list of my best, most critical proof readers with a golden pen.

I am closing my toolbox and the colorful latch reminds me of the most important parts of my essay: the title, which at first was missing, when I wrote this. The first impression has to be tasteful. It is a dangerous undertaking. The words must be picked carefully and the reader needs to be stimulated!  The title stumped me a few times: All important words in the title must begin with capital letters. This title tool just did not want to join my toolbox for a long time, but now it’s finally fit in its place.

My faithful companion, the dictionary, is stored on the bottom level by now. It is well-loved, invaluable, interesting; pretty and crazy words are highlighted or underlined. Though it is helpful, I’ve minimized its use, because I realized that when I try to describe words, I usually write VIVID explanations, which are an important characteristic of my writing style - my signature on the toolbox.

Constructing and filling my toolbox though hard work, was rewarding. I can look back to many “free writes”. They took my fear of writing away and I left the sad time of writer’s block behind me. I started getting comfortable and finally, I am sitting here again, after five months, writing another “toolbox” essay. I am realizing that this is the last paper I will write for this class. I knew that I was on the right path. Behind me are doors that I opened and I feel ready; ready to continue writing on my own to share my thoughts and experiences with the world of readers.