Brag Sheet - Midwest Region Essay

Below is one of the few essays that scored the highest grade in the recent class writing assignment. Read this essay 'very' carefully and look how effectively it introduced a variety of 'unique' facts about the Midwest in an engaging and interesting way. Also note the use of GRAAB and SSS. I did make a few changes in red as examples of how you can all avoid repeating the name of the region continually through your essays and the word 'many'.(Hint Hint nudge Nudge...This is an excellent example of  the type of answer that will be required for Thursday's Midwest Test essay!)

Explain why the Midwest is referred to the "Unique region" in the US

By Ryan Ensor

As the glaciers melt away, in time the hairy buffalo slowly trot onto the plains with Nomad Indians close behind onto what will soon become one of the most distintive regions of a new country. There are a variety of reasons why the Midwest is referred to as the “Unique Region” of the US. Impressive historical monuments can be found nestled across this part of the nation. The Midwest may not be home to New York’s Statue of Liberty, or Arizona’s Grand Canyon, but Mount Rushmore is known throughout the world and has become South Dakota’s claim to fame.  Mount Rushmore portrays George Washington, Abraham Lincoln, Thomas Jefferson, and Theodore Roosevelt. It attracts a plethora of tourists everyday to stare at the carved faces in the side of the Mountain. The Crazy Horse Memorial is as important to Indian heritage as Kitty Hawk in the Southeast is to the Wright Brothers. The Crazy Horse Memorial is a huge statue of a horse and rider, although this marvel is not yet complete. The Sand Hills, located in Nebraska, are three hundred feet tall. These monuments are just some of the many marvels in the Midwest.

Sports teams, hot air ballooning, and winter sports are all popular hobbies in the Midwest. The Minnesota Twins are as important to Minnesota as the Red Sox are to Boston. The Ohio State Buckeyes and Wisconsin Badgers are popular college teams from Ohio and Wisconsin respectively.  Alternatively, multi colored hot air balloons filled the sky as they soar during a typical midwestern summer festival. Hot air ballooning is a popular pastime for  residents and visitors to the area alike and is also enjoyed nation wide! In most places, hot air ballooning is scarce, and this is one of the reasons the Midwest is so unique. Additionally, ice fishing, ice hockey, and ice skating are very fun for winters in across the land areras bordering the Great Lakes. In fact, ice fishing is as uncommon for other regions as a blizzard hitting the Florida coastline would be.

The history of the Midwest is as interesting as the history of the whole country. Glaciers, huge frozen blocks of ice, once covered the entire Interior Plains flattening mountains and trees. When the glaciers cleared away, buffaloes and Indians came on to the now settle in the Plains. Soon the French came into the Midwest exploring and looking for land to take for their own. In 1803, The US concluded the Louisiana Purchase.

To conclude, the Midwest is unique in many ways.  Mount Rushmore, Minnesota Twins, and hot air ballooning are just a few resons. As the red, white, and navy blue Minnesota Twins compete in the World Series foreign tourists gape at the granite faces of Mount Rushmore. The crowd roars in triumph when the Twins win the World Series making their mark on history, and the tourists realized what a unique region the Midwest truly is.

Coming Next Week

• Midwest Region Test - Thur
• Northeast Region -Research Skills Project
• Reading, Writng, and Interpreting Poetry

Don't forget your piece of fruit for Monday's class

Brag Sheet- Narrative

The way Thomas integrated the description of the scenery with  his action narrative was very impressive.

A Camping Trip to Remember

By Thomas Williams
   When the fading sunlight prickled through the trees onto my fellow campers walking on the forest trail, we looked almost like ants marching in a line to get back to their anthill. The trail was weathered into the woods and clear over the dense, overgrown jungle of forks in the dirt trail. The smell of the cool Appalachian summer air put me at ease. My conversation was interrupted and stopped as cheers erupted from the crowd of traveling boys. We had reached our campsite; it was green river pasture.
   Surprisingly, even though it was just a two-mile trip, all of the campers seemed as tired as dogs. The sound of panting hit at my eardrums. Chris and Patrick, two boys in my cabin, toiled with tarps for a blue tent. While they were at work, I put on my Crocs and plunged into icy Green River. I felt energetic as I paddled in the stream. I found a place where the current was not very strong and picked up a rock. I pulled my arm back and let loose a hard sidearm. The rock skipped once, twice, three times. The smell of enchiladas on the cook stove made my mouth water. The yellow sun from earlier had become a golden ball above the horizon struggling to stay where it was. The ominous cloud cover soon crept over it. David, my camp counselor, called for us to come and eat. I had been ready a long time ago!
   Dinner was happiness for my taste buds, but no one had enough of it. Everyone took any chance they could of getting more food even if it meant stealing off other people's plates. Five or six people only got a half serving! Five counselors can only carry so much!
   When the final ray of sunlight disappeared from view, few of us had flashlights. David set to work building a campfire. It took a while before the the taste of s'more finally reached my mouth. When it did, the smell of smoke was almost better than the smell of s'mores.
   It was midnight before sleep came. Sleep was what everyone needed, but no one was able to get more than an hour of it. My dreams were brought to reality by the pitter-patter of rain on the foot of my sleeping bag. The bag was taking on water rapidly while lightning flashed in the sky above. The rain stopped as fast as it had begun. All 40 campers stumbled out of the makeshift tent and onto the soft, drying, ground. I listened to the sound of shuffling cards from the pack Martin had brought along. As the sun began to peek through the clouds hours later, David and the other counselors helped us pack our backpacks, sleeping bags, and tarps. After that, I vowed never to go camping again. That promise won't last very long!

Brag Sheet - Narrative

Read  Forrester's narrative. See the impressive integration of proper nouns in his work ?

Baseball Tryouts
“One who moves a mountain begins by carrying away small stones.”

~Anonymous

As I step into my dad’s navy Suburban car, I am struck with nervousness. I put on my Adidas baseball cleats after hearing my dad give me advice on pop- flies and grounders. Trepidation filled the March air when I stepped onto the Myers Park Trinity soil. I had never even touched a real baseball bat in my life, yet I was trying out for the best team in the league. I squeezed my Spalding baseball mitt and slowly approached Founder’s Field.

The coach told us to warm up by throwing the Adidas baseball back and forth to each other. A couple of the more experienced players gave me a few tips on how to throw the ball more accurately after I had whiffed the ball a litany of times. For example, to receive a better grip on the ball, put on finger on each side of the ball; put one on top of the ball.

Finally, the tryouts began. Firstly, the coach instructed us to individually run a lap around the diamond, the bases, so that they could obtain our average time. I had become extremely jittery by the time it was my turn, but when the coach stated go, I went. Dust flew up towards the Carolina Blue sky. I sprinted towards home plate after rounding first, second, and third. Even though I had an average Little League score, I still strived for more.

Secondly, the coach instructed us to vie pitching. On my first try, I bounced the ball off the plate and gave the catcher a bloody nose. I stopped and apologized, but that didn’t stop the red, gushing blood from coming out of his nose. I threw balls for the other two. One bounced before it reached home, and the other nearly took the head off of a man walking by. My talent in pitching pretty much states my fielding skills also. I caught zero out of five pop- flies, stopped two out of three grounders, and didn’t make a single accurate throw to first.

At this point, my outcome was obvious, yet I still had to suffer through batting. I swung at and missed all the balls with my Easton baseball bat except for one that went about five inches. Stepping back into my squeaky, leather seat of the Suburban car, I tell my dad how horrible I did. My dad tried to cheer me up, but that didn’t matter. By this point, I had realized that I probably shouldn’t have tried out for the best Myers Park team first, but I should have tried out for a smaller team and worked my way up. As they say, “One who moves a mountain begins by carrying away small stones.”

~Forrester Welch

Brag Sheet

Personal Narrative


By: Kate Mace

As the sound of my mom’s voice echoed through my brain, I caught a glimpse of the New York, yellow taxicab racing toward my family. The hotel we were staying at towered over the streets of the city. While I was waiting for the cab to pull up in front of the hotel’s massive doors for us to climb in, I made a mental plan for our day in the city. First, we had gotten out of bed, eaten breakfast, and made our way to the front steps to sit down while my mom called a cab. After we stepped into the scented cab, my mom told Larry, the cab driver, that we were going to FAO Schwartz. Usually, my mom told us where my family was going for the day, but today, she surprised us by telling the cab driver we were going to one of the greatest and biggest toy stores on the planet! The bland, drab seats of the cab gave me no further excitement when I rested my head on the back of the seat. The bleeping of the horns and the squealing of brakes called me to my senses.

The cab was stopped in front of the enormous building with an even more humongous sign welcoming you into FAO Schwartz. As the aromatic scent drifted p into my nostrils, my jaw dropped. Even the windows were stuffed to the gills with cute stuffed bears and Lego sets. The mellow colors of the plush toys made my little brother squeal with joy. Matthew, my little brother, pointed out that there was a giant pile of stuffed animals in the middle of the room, and kids were jumping and playing in it. Without asking, I ran up to the heap of toys and did a giant cannonball into it. The cushy, plush animals engulfed me like a volcano engulfs the chunks of rock that plop into its burning mass. As soon as I stuck my head out of the pile, it was pushed back under again when my brother decided it was his turn to jump into the animal pile. Luckily, my mom saw this whole scene unfold so I didn’t have to waste my breath yelling at my brother to get off of me. The pitter-patter of my little little brother’s feet abruptly stopped as my mom scooped him off the ceramic floor before he too could jump on the pile. I felt relieved as we ran up the stairs to the giant piano.

Even though there were a lot of kids at FAO, I still had a lot of fun. The gentle sound of Lucas’s snoring put me in a peaceful mood. The pitter-patter of rain, not feet, filled my ears up to it’s uppermost level, so that I could hear nothing else. I was tired and happy when the cab reached the hotel yet again. Walking through the doors of the Duke Frabresan, I took a deep breath of the perfumy smell. As my mom ushered us to the door of our room, I saw the delicate flowers sitting on the stool next to the table. Because the door was shut, the music became muffled. Jumping on a bed covered in soft, fluffy pillows never felt so good.