COVER LETTER

Writing this essay was both exciting and saddening, as I am happy about how far I have
come in this class, but I am sad that it’s over and I am unfortunately writing my last essay. With
that being said, this essay was rather easy to write. Not because it was an easy task, but because I
have grown so much as a writer and by now that is clearly evidenced when I sit down and begin
my writing process. I found that it hasn’t been taking me as long as it used to to formulate my
thoughts and get going on my essay. Maybe it was easier for me to write because this is a
personal narrative, but I believe that it can be attributed to the enhanced and refined skills I have
obtained over the last few months in English 125.
When this project was assigned to us I used the first story that came to mind. I know that
may sound lazy, but in my opinion, this story came to me first for a reason—because it was the
most influential. This story was telling of not only who I am as a person, but it is one of the
biggest arguments I can make for anyone to listen to and the most influential to my life at
present—to persevere and overcome obstacles. Writing this project enhanced this broader
conversation for me because it forced me to think about my actions and the consequences of
them—whether they hurt me or help me, and how they shape me as a person. Having to think
about my actions and why I made them challenged my willingness to face controversy and it
made me question my character, while also reminding me that I need to keep pushing through
obstacles in my life, especially as I am finally beginning my first ever week of finals as a college
student.
Before this class I did not know much about the narrative based argument genre because I
have never before written a formal narrative based argument essay. Considering this, I learned
that a narrative based argument can be structured in many different ways, but in all, it is an essay
that is typically presented in chronological order to make some kid of point. The purpose of the
narrative is to provide an argument that is both persuasive and insightful and reveals some
worldly concept. Because this genre is somewhat new to me, I found that the most challenging
part of writing was connecting the final persuasion, which for my essay was the last
paragraph(s), to my narrative without sounding abrupt and out of place. I wanted to it be made
clear in my story what exactly I was trying to argue, without having to explicitly state it, and
personally, I had a hard time doing so. The most helpful part of writing narrative-based
persuasion is that I was not under any formal guideline when it came to writing and how I was
going to display my argument. Personally, I took a very informal approach and wrote the essay
as if I was telling a story and talking to my audience. This is something I enjoy doing because it
is very reflective of my personality and my dislike of being told what to do when it comes to my
writing.
In all, I learned a lot about the narrative-based argument genre and I genuinely enjoyed
learning and writing for this project. I would be more than happy to write something like this
again as I am really fond of writing in a discussion-like format. I have had nothing but a positive
experience with this essay and in English 125 as a whole.
Casey Sanders
S. Hughes

English 125

14 November 2018

Undressing the Need to Succeed

I remember having to read Naked Economics in 8th grade as if it was yesterday—as

opposed to over 5 years ago. It was one of those things that, when remembering, makes me so

happy and proud of who I am. It is something that I will never forget. I thought I was so cool and

so smart because I was reading a high school/college level book that most kids my age couldn’t

imagine even trying to comprehend in the first place. And I even convinced myself that I truly

loved reading it even though I, myself, also didn’t fully comprehend it. I think part of the reason

as to why I felt so accomplished for having to read such a demanding book dates back to

elementary school where I was never the highest level reader compared to my friends and many

of my peers. So, the fact that I was able to grow both mentally and physically over the years to

become a more successful student really made me feel on top of the world when it came to my

academic abilities.

I do not remember the book, nor do I remember the assignment I had to do for it, let

alone if there even was one. Years have gone by and all I can remember is that, to this day, I am

still telling people how much I loved this book—which I didn’t even finish reading at the time.

In all honesty, I think what I actually loved about the book was the fact that it was considered so

challenging and that the majority of my grade didn’t get to read it because they weren’t in the

advanced class—yes, I’m competitive. I love being faced with obstacles that I’m forced to
overcome, especially if it displays my talents/abilities, and in this case the first challenge that this

book brought forth for me was comprehension.

Now, let’s move forward a few years to the end of my junior year of high school in 2017.

When it came time to sign up for classes for my senior year, I knew AP economics was a must.

Although the complexity of the class rung through the hallways for all 3 years of my high school

experience (kids furiously studying throughout the halls for the tests, walking out of the room

crying after tests, and the overall murmur of negative comments about teachers and the class

itself) I decided to take it, thinking It has to be an interesting class, and hey, I loved naked

economics, right? And the best part of this decision is that my summer reading was once again

Naked Economics. This validated my decision—I knew I was meant to take this class.

Once again, I didn’t finish the book. Not that I didn’t enjoy it again this time around, I

just found that I didn’t really love reading as much as I had once used to and I had a busy

summer, so really, it’s not the book, it’s me.

Now, the first day of my senior year nearing I counted the seconds until I was sitting in

my rigorous AP economics class with my favorite teacher Mr. Mooney. All I ever wanted was to

sit in one of Mr. Mooney’s classes, as he only taught some of the hardest classes in all of the

school. I’ve known Mr. Mooney for years from my Class Planning club, but that was a rarity. He

never spoke to underclassmen, he always told them to “come back to talk when [they were]

upperclassmen.” Not that he was a mean and awful man, he was just a funny one; One you

would need to have the privilege of experiencing first hand. Yet, for some reason, Mr. Mooney
was always willing to speak to me no matter my social standing throughout high school, I guess

you could say he had a soft spot for me.

I walked into his class with a large grin spread across my face, as I was not only excited

to finally be in his class after a long 4 year wait, but I was even more so excited for the

challenges ahead—and of course to discuss Naked Economics with the class! I just knew I would

love economics—this had to be the class for me. Unfortunately, this bubble of happiness burst

within the first five minutes of my 6th period economics class. Mr. Mooney had made a rather

cruel joke about not wanting me in his class, something along the lines of “having to deal with

you everyday is not something I am capable of...are you sure you want to be in my class?” My

heart pounded fast and I didn’t speak for the rest of the class period. How could the moment I

had waited for for so long be taken from me just like that? Did he really not want me in his class

after all that waiting? After years of telling me that I will one day be taught by him and we were

both eagerly awaiting that moment. Those words rang around my head for the rest of the day and

followed me out onto the soccer field that afternoon. There, I told my coach, one of Mr.

Mooney’s colleagues, in hopes that maybe he could calm me down, as I did not believe this

comment to be sarcastic, but rather concerning instead.

The next day Mr. Mooney drove his wheelchair to the door as I was nearing the entrance

and he told me to walk with him. On that walk he he gave me a disappointed look, as if I had let

him down already. Then, he yelled at me and told me that if we were going to make this work

then I need to be able to read his sarcasm and not be so sensitive. At that point I knew my soccer

coach had spoken to him and told him all about my anxiety over his comments from the previous
day. I was embarrassed to say the least. But my heart had felt a little relieved, as my concerns

about this not being the class for me was squashed, and I was once again back on track with this

being “my class.”

Time went on and the class took off. We started learning and we were learning fast. My

head would spin with information from the second I walked into 6th period each day until the

second I checked out of class when the bell would ring after 40 never-ending minutes. “Wait, can

you slow down? Would you mind leaving those notes up for me? Can you explain that again?

I’m sorry, but I am not following…” became my new catch phrases. And before I knew it the

first test was here. I studied long and hard, but for some reason, the material just wasn’t clicking

for me. I always found myself behind the rest of the class tumbling over words and phrases,

asking questions after every sentence put on the board for our notes, and constantly slowing

everyone else down. The class wanted to kill me.

About 4 days after the first test was taken, we all sat down for class rather quickly and

got quiet faster than usual. There was a weird lingering tension in the air; for some reason the

whole class could sense that something was coming our way. A minute later Mr. Mooney drove

his wheelchair into the class with a pile of papers on his lap. He then called out those torturous

words that would change the class attitude for the rest of the period: “I will be handing the grades

out at the end of class.” From that moment until the second my scantron was sitting folded in my

hands I couldn’t think of anything else. My palms getting sweatier by the minute and my mind

wandering back and forth cancelling out all noise and any possible learning. When my name was

finally called and my grade was sitting helpless in my hands, I didn’t know what to expect or
how to feel. Eventually, a sudden excitement poured over me and I decided it was time to turn

over my paper. I crossed my fingers tight and prayed for a somewhat decent grade...but instead, I

received an absolutely horrendous score. A 65. Yup. A 65. If you know me, you know that is not

AT ALL a typical “Casey grade.” As tears fell down my face, my heart hurt and I became

worried about my ability to succeed. This took a toll on me within class, and caused me to lose

all confidence I once had when it came to this subject. I took one more test very soon after and

the result was similar, and obviously not promising. But there was no bone in my body that was

going to let me drop this class into the regular section. I’m not a regular student. I refused to go

anywhere. I am hardworking and determined and I was going to figure out how to make it out

alive after a heavy year of AP Economics. I needed to do it, for myself, for Naked Economics,

and for my future.

The school year progressed and my economics grades were still falling within the 75-

80% range and I had just felt that this is where there were going to stay, whether I wanted them

to or not. I figured that if I can maintain a 75 test average and do all of the homework then I

could end with a B and that would be fine. But even maintaining that average in this class wasn’t

something that I could do easily. I still had to study, do my work and stay on top of things. That,

with the soccer season in full force, in addition to other AP classes, and applying to college was a

disastrous mix. I already have bad anxiety and even worse time management skills, so this class

load concoction was detrimental to my mental and physical health. This became evident to my

closest teachers (my soccer coach, Mr. Mooney, and some other social studies department

colleagues), and in the past they have had a mental health intervention for me. I hoped this never

had to happen again.

 About a month into school I was driving to my soccer team dinner and I received a text

from Mr. Mooney:

“Is now a good time to talk?”

My heart sunk. Hearing those words is never a comforting feeling, especially because I

had an idea of what it would be about—my economics grades. I immediately pulled to the side of

the road and broke down. I just had a lot on my plate and the last thing I needed was added

pressure about school.

I went through the soccer dinner silent, eagerly awaiting some words from Mr. Mooney.

Once the dinner was over and I was getting in my car I finally heard back from him and this is

what he said:

“Do you think that my class is too much for you? Do you think you would be a better fit

in the regular class? Are you too stressed out?”

My biggest fear came true. ANOTHER intervention was on the rise and I could feel it

brewing. I couldn’t respond. All I could do was cry. I didn’t have an answer for him. Maybe the

class was too stressful for me, but if I wanted to get into business schools then I didn’t believe

that the regular class was even an option for me. Once the tears started, they didn’t stop. And

instead of driving straight home from dinner I decided to drive around my town in hopes of
clearing my head so that I could stop crying and respond to his text both truthfully and level

headedly.

I have been doubted before. I have even doubted myself before, but for some reason, the

doubt I received from Mr. Mooney had left me in shock. It had made me question everything I

stood for when it came to school and how capable I was of ever succeeding both in his class and

in life. Was I ever going to get into college? Am I ever going to do well? Why can’t I be

successful?

Later that night, after crying out all of my anger and frustration I decided that my actions

of late are so unlike myself. I don’t cry. I don’t let obstacles EVER get in the way of me

accomplishing my goals. And after that realization, I knew what had to be done. I had to prove

everyone wrong and show my teacher, my class, and most importantly, myself, that I was

capable of doing well, and I was going to succeed.

With that being said, I sat down and decided that I was going to reply to Mr. Mooney’s

text.

“Everything is just hard right now with college applications and soccer. I promise I am

doing fine and I am going to keep working because I believe that I belong in this class just as

much as everyone else.”

“Do you think switching out is the right decision for me...Would you recommend that?”
 Mr. Mooney never replied. Maybe it was because I answered him too late. Maybe it was

because he had nothing to say. Maybe it was because he thought my determination was enough

to get me through the rest of the class. Or maybe it was because he didn’t want to tell me the

hard truth: that he did believe I should switch out of his class—I guess I’ll never know.

I pushed through the year, studying harder and eventually doing better. I ended with the

B I had hoped to attain, and when it came time to start studying for the AP tests I knew just what

had to be done. I worked tirelessly for nights on end just to become comfortable with all of the

material for the first time that year. I met with Mr. Mooney everyday after school to go over

practice tests I had taken and to reevaluate concepts I had long forgotten. I have never before

worked harder and in the end, the end result paid off. I did extremely well on both tests, placing

myself out of both macroeconomics and microeconomics at the college level. I guess you could

say I defied all odds.

I was put in my teacher’s hall of fame, and no one was more proud of me than he was. It

felt good to see my hard work pay off and it felt even better to know that I didn’t give up on

myself, but instead my decision to persevere not only helped me mentally, but allowed me to

prove to myself exactly what I am capable of—anything I put my mind to.

Turns out, that for Ross (yes, spoiler alert, I got in! Even though I wasn’t doing too well

in economics…) I had to retake both macroeconomics and microeconomics on a college campus.

Because of that I decided to take both classes over the summer at a local college because I didn’t
want to forget all of the studying I had done at the end of the year for my AP tests. Sitting

through both classes a second time only validated my love for the subject and my gratitude for

Naked Economics. My new teachers constantly applauded my knowledge about, and

understanding of, the topic and even questioned why I was taking the class if I already knew

everything! Not only did this allow me to move into the challenging Ross environment with

confidence in my academic abilities, but it once again validated the effort I had put into

economics in the first place. Had I let the first few bumps in the road stop me, then I wouldn’t

have ended up as successful in both classes as I did, putting me ahead of the game where I stand

at present.

I still hope to one day finish Naked Economics and thoroughly enjoy and understand it.

Now I am faced with the fear that it will not live up to the expectations I have hyped it up to for

years. Yet, I am so very grateful for that book because I believe that it truly made me develop a

love and passion for business and encouraged me to further explore that career path. It

contributed to my decision to apply to the University of Michigan Ross School of Business, and

it may even be the reason that I was accepted and have the privilege of attending that school

currently—thanks Charles Wheelan!

DRAFTS:

Undressing the Need to Succeed

Do you remember that one thing that made you happy growing up? That one thing that

made you so proud of who you were? That thing that you will never forget as you grow older?

Well, for me, it was the summer reading assignment I had to do for 8th grade honors social

studies. The book was called Naked Economics: Undressing the Dismal Science by Charles

Wheelan.

I remember having to read Naked Economics in 8th grade as if it was yesterday—as

opposed to over 5 years ago. I thought I was so cool and so smart because I was reading a high

school/college level book that most kids my age couldn’t imagine even trying to comprehend in

the first place. And I even convinced myself that I truly loved reading it even though I, myself,

also didn’t fully comprehend it. I think part of the reason as to why I felt so accomplished for

having to read such a demanding book dates back to elementary school where I was never the
highest level reader compared to my friends and many of my peers. So, the fact that I was able to

grow both mentally and physically over the years to become a more successful student really

made me feel on top of the world when it came to my academic abilities.

I do not remember the book, nor do I remember the assignment I had to do for it, let

alone if there even was one. Years have gone by and all I can remember is that I to this day, I am

still telling people how much I loved this book—which I didn’t even finish reading at the time.

In all honesty, I think what I actually loved about the book was the fact that it was considered so

challenging and that the majority of my grade didn’t get to read it because they weren’t in the

advanced class—yes, I’m competitive. I love being faced with obstacles that I’m forced to

overcome, especially if it displays my talents/abilities, and in this case the first challenge that this

book brought forth for me was comprehension.

Now, let’s move forward a few years to the end of my junior year of high school in 2017.

When it came time to sign up for classes for my senior year, I knew AP economics was a must.

Although the complexity of the class rung through the hallways for all 3 years of my high school

experience (kids furiously studying throughout the halls for the tests, walking out of the room

crying after tests, and the overall murmur of negative comments about teachers and the class

itself) I decided to take it, thinking It has to be an interesting class, and hey, I loved naked

economics, right? And the best part of this decision is that my summer reading was once again Commented [1]: You have a very strong presence of
voice.
Naked Economics. This validated my decision—I knew I was meant to take this class. Commented [2]: Love how this comes back, it couldn't
be more poetic even if it wasn't true.
 Once again, I didn’t finish the book. Not that I didn’t enjoy it again this time around, I

just found that I didn’t really love reading as much as I had once used to and I had a busy

summer, so really, it’s not the book, it’s me.

Now, the first day of my senior year nearing I counted the seconds until I was sitting in

my rigorous AP economics class with my favorite teacher Mr. Mooney. All I ever wanted was to

sit in one of Mr. Mooney’s classes, as he only taught some of the hardest classes in all of the

school. I’ve known Mr. Mooney for years from my Class Planning club, but that was a rarity. He

never spoke to underclassmen, he always told them to “come back to talk when [they were]

upperclassmen.” Not that he was a mean and awful man, he was just a funny one; One you

would need to have the privilege of experiencing first hand. Yet, for some reason, Mr. Mooney

was always willing to speak to me no matter my social standing throughout high school, I guess

you could say he had a soft sport for me.

I walked into his class with a large grin spread across my face, as I was not only excited

to finally be in his class after a long 4 year wait, but I was even more so excited for the

challenges ahead—and of course to discuss Naked Economics with the class! I just knew I would

love economics—this had to be the class for me. Unfortunately this bubble of happiness had

burst within the first five minutes of my 6th period economics class. Mr. Mooney had made a

rather cruel joke about not wanting me in his class, something along the lines of “having to deal

with you everyday is not something I am capable of...are you sure you want to be in my class?”

My heart pounded fast and I didn’t speak for the rest of the class period. How could the moment

I was waiting for for so long be taken from me just like that? Did he really not want me in his
class after all that? After years of telling me that I will one day be taught by him and we were

both eagerly awaiting that moment. Those words rang around my head for the rest of the day and

followed me out onto the soccer field that afternoon. There, I told my coach, one of Mr.

Mooney’s colleagues, in hopes that maybe he could calm me down, as I did not believe this

comment to be sarcastic, but rather concerning instead.

The next day Mr. Mooney drove his wheelchair to the door as I was nearing the entrance

and he told me to walk with him. On that walk he yelled at me and told me that if we were going

to make this work then I need to be able to read his sarcasm and not be so sensitive. At that point

I knew my soccer coach had spoken to him and told him all about my anxiety over his comments

from the previous day. I was embarrassed to say the least. But my heart had felt a little relieved,

as my concerns about this not being the class for me was squashed, and I was once again back on

track with this being “my class.”

Time went on and the class took off. We started learning and we were learning fast. My

head would spin with information from the second I walked into 6th period each day until the

second I checked out of class when the bell would ring after 40 never ending minutes. “Wait,

can you slow down? Would you mind leaving those notes up for me? Can you explain that

again? I’m sorry but I am not following…” Became my new catch phrases. And before I knew it

the first test was here. I studied long and hard, but for some reason the material just wasn’t

clicking for me. I always found myself behind the rest of the class tumbling over words and

phrases, asking questions after every sentence put on the board for our notes, and constantly

slowing everyone else down. The class wanted to kill me. Commented [3]: MOOD! #mememememememe
 About 4 days after the first test was taken I received a horrendous score. A 65. Yup. A

65. If you know me, you know that is not AT ALL a typical “Casey grade.” As tears fell down

my face, my heart hurt and I became worried about my capabilities. This took a toll on me

within class, and caused me to lose all confidence I once had when it came to this subject. I took

one more test very soon after and the result was similar, and obviously not promising. But there

was no bone in my body that was going to let me drop this class into the regular section. I’m not

a regular student. I refused to go anywhere. I am hardworking and determined and I was going to

figure out how to make it out alive after a heavy year of AP Economics. I needed to do it, for

myself, for Naked Economics, and for my future.

The school year progressed and my economics grades were still falling within the 75-

80% range and I had just felt that this is where there were going to stay, whether I wanted them

to or not. I figured that if I can maintain a 75 test average and do all of the homework then I

could end with a B and that would be fine. But even maintaining that average in this class wasn’t

something that I could do easily. I still had to study, do my work and stay on top of things. That,

with the soccer season in full force, in addition to other AP classes, and applying to college was a

disastrous mix. I already have bad anxiety and even worse time management skills, so this class

load concoction was detrimental to my mental and physical health. This became evident to my

closest teachers (my soccer coach, Mr. Mooney, and some other social studies department

colleagues), and in the past they have had a mental health intervention for me. I hoped this never

had to happen again.

 But as you can guess it did. About a month into school I was driving to my soccer team

dinner and I received a text from Mr. Mooney:

“Is now a good time to talk?”

My heart sunk. Hearing those words is never a comforting feeling, especially because I

had an idea of what it would be about—my economics grades. I immediately pulled to the side of

the road and broke down. I just had a lot on my plate and the last thing I needed was added

pressure about school.

I went through the soccer dinner silent, eagerly awaiting some words from Mr. Mooney.

Once the dinner was over and I was getting in my car I finally heard back from him and this is

what he said:

“Do you think that my class is too much for you? Do you think you would be a better fit in the

regular class? Are you too stressed out?”

I couldn’t respond. All I could do was cry. I didn’t have an answer for him. Maybe the

class was too stressful for me, but if I wanted to get into business schools then I didn’t believe

that the regular class was even an option for me. Once the tears started, they didn’t stop. And

instead of driving straight home from dinner I decided to drive around my town in hopes of

clearing my head so that I could stop crying and respond to his text both truthfully and level

headedly.
 I have been doubted before. I have even doubted myself before, but for some reason, the

doubt I received from Mr. Mooney had left me in shock. It had made me question everything I

stood for when it came to school and how capable I was of ever succeeding both in his class and

in life. Was I ever going to get into college? Am I ever going to do well? Why can’t I be

successful?

Later that night, after crying out all of my anger and frustration I decided that my actions

of late are so unlike myself. I don’t cry. I don’t let obstacles EVER get in the way of me

accomplishing my goals. And after that realization I knew what had to be done. I had to prove

everyone wrong and show my teacher, my class, and most importantly, myself, that I was

capable of doing well, and I was going to succeed.

I pushed through the year, studying harder and eventually doing better. I ended with the

B I had hoped to, and when it came time to start studying for the AP tests I knew just what had to

be done. I worked tirelessly for nights on end just to become comfortable with all of the material

for the first time that year. I met with Mr. Mooney everyday after school to go over practice tests

I had taken and to reevaluate concepts I had long forgotten. I have never before worked harder

and in the end, it was more than clear in my result. I did extremely well on both tests, placing

myself out of both macroeconomics and microeconomics at the college level. I guess you could

say I defied all odds.

 I was put in my teachers hall of fame, and no one was more proud of me than he was. It

felt good to see my hard work pay off and it felt even better to know that I didn’t give up on

myself, but instead my decision to persevere not only helped me mentally, but allowed me to

prove to myself exactly what I am capable of—anything I put my mind to.

Turns out, that for Ross (yes, spoiler alert, I got in! Even though I wasn’t doing too well

in economics…) I had to retake both macroeconomics and microeconomics on a college campus.

Because of that I decided to take both classes over the summer at a local college because I didn’t

want to forget all of the studying I had done at the end of the year for my AP tests. Sitting

through both classes a second time only validated my love for the subject and my gratitude for

Naked Economics. My new teachers constantly applauded my knowledge on the topic and even

questioned why I was taking the class if I already knew everything! Not only did this make me

feel good academically, but it once again, it validated the effort I had put into economics in the

first place. Had I let the first few bumps in the road stop me, then I wouldn’t have ended up as

successful in both classes as I did, putting me ahead of the game here in college.

To this day, I still hope to one day finish Naked Economics and thoroughly enjoy and

understand it. Now I am faced with the fear that it will not live up to the expectations I have

hyped it up to for years. Yet, I am so very grateful for that book because I believe that it truly

made me develop a love and passion for business and encouraged me to further explore that

career path. It contributed to my decision to apply to the University of Michigan Ross School of

Business, and it may even be the reason that I was accepted and have the privilege of attending

that school currently—thanks Charles Wheelan!

Peer Review Edits:

● Fix grammar mistakes

● More clear connection between conclusion (narrative and argument)

● Discuss expectations not being met (that’s why his sarcasm was disheartening)

● ADD PARAGRAPH ABOUT WHAT THIS MEANS FOR ME AS A PERSON AND

HOW IT IS IMPORTANT TO PERSIST. BRING TOGETHER THE ARGUMENT IN

THE NARRATIVE.
PEER EDITS:

Dear Casey,
Thank you for sharing your essay with me! I love your writing style and it is truly a
pleasure to get to read your writing. As we continue to read each others essays, I keep getting to
know more and more about you. I didn’t know you played soccer! I thought this essay was really
interesting to read because I really was able to relate to it. I am a very competitive student as well
and struggling is hard for me. I like that you used this specific struggle though and connected it
to the real world.
I can definitely see the greater argument beyond your experience that you are expressing,
but I think you could possibly state it more explicitly. I think this would fit best in your
conclusion paragraph. I think just adding a little section about overcoming struggles will make
your argument more compelling and persuasive because it is more broad and relatable all around.
I saw you using concrete storytelling skills throughout the whole piece. I felt this really added to
your argument. I also thought you used dramatic affect really efficiently - that might just be part
of your personality though :). I was definitely persuaded to sympathize with you as a writer
through your writing. I was rooting for your success the whole time due to the way you
explained everything. You painted yourself as a very complex character which I think is hard to
do but you did it excellently.
I liked the part of the story you told about you looking up to your teacher and him being
sarcastic to you. It put you in a weird position when he talked to you about it. However, I don’t
really understand how this is related to your main argument. It adds to the narrative because you
are able to understand the dynamic between you and your teacher but in a way I found it slightly
contradicting.
I thought the structure of your piece was very natural. It was chronological because it was
a narrative which I think makes a lot of sense. As I said earlier, I think the essay could benefit
from a more complete conclusion. I wanted to know more about what you learned from this
experience and how it still affects you today. Also, does it affect you outside of school? I think
you could discuss how it goes beyond even school, hard work is important in all aspects of life
and is such a valuable skill to have.
Again, thank you so much for sharing your work with me. I truly enjoyed reading it and
can’t wait to see where else you take this essay. Sadly, this is the last essay of the semester. I
loved being in a peer review group with you! Your essays were easy to read but you made it hard
for me to write these letters because there was never anything wrong! I also really appreciated all
of the constructive criticism that you have given me over the past four essays. I look forward to
discussing this essay with you in class tomorrow!

Warmly,
Sarah Schaffel
Dear Casey,

Especially as this is our final essay in this class, I’d like to say thank you for letting me
read all your essays. You truly have a gift for writing, and you have some of the best voice in any
student whose essays I’ve read. And I truly believe that reading your four essays has also helped
me to become a stronger, and more confident writer.
I felt a connection to you in this essay, as someone who has taken, and definitely
struggled in AP Macroeconomics in the past. Furthermore, I thought the fact that the textbook
you had for an AP econ class in high school was an assignment for summer work years earlier
was a great introduction to your relationship with economics, business, and competition.
As I have said earlier, your presence of voice is incredibly strong throughout the piece,
and this lends to the narrative structure in several ways: your sentences are clear and
understandable, while still maintaining a complex structure, your emotions are more accurately
expressed, and the passage of time is easier to write through. All of these were necessary in your
story which is why your writing style worked so well with a narrative argument, as it does with
most styles. I would, however, encourage you to look back at your punctuation. I am certainly of
the belief that, if you want to write “. And” then you can write “. And” but there were some other
clauses, and phrases that felt strangely broken up by periods.
Besides the usual typos, or strangely phrased moments, I felt the essay you wrote was
powerful, and meaningful to you. I also found it to be a piece that would resonate with the rest of
the class. We’ve all been through the class that pushed us to the absolute edge of mental health.
And I completely understand how we can take sarcasm from one person easily, without even
thinking about it, but for whatever reason, there are a few select people who we simply can’t
handle a jab from.
I think you could also go into how your perspective of your teacher changed after all the
times he questioned you. For me personally, I know I would get angry, and I would decide to
prove him wrong. I’d eviscerate tests with A’s until I’d be able to say, “maybe you were right, I
shouldn’t be in this class, I should have tested out”. But before you went on to say how he yelled
at you, you painted your teacher as an amazing man, one who everyone should meet. Sure this
made the revelation that he was pretty mean shocking, but there’s still something left to be
desired.
I personally hated my econ class, but I loved my teacher. He was also a sarcastic type, but
he really only joked with the kids who weren’t doing well because they didn’t really want to do
well.
 Once again, I would like to say what a privilege it has been to read your essays over the
run of this course. I look forward to discussing all this and more in class on monday.

From,
Jack Barshaw