Grade 8 Writing Activity- Show Don't Tell

Jaime Groeller
"It was a crisp morning, but this fall is beautiful! I wish I was a poet or a photographer in order to capture it myself."

We were outside, silent for 15 minutes, in 8.3 despite the coolness. I had them choose a spot to start, then had them move to a second spot, all in silence.

Seriously awesome conversation between two students once we came inside:
Student 1: "How about, like, that the wind "digs its fingers" into you?"
Student 2: "Hmmm, not really. That's not quite it."

The Assignment:
Journal Entry 9:
Using Four of your Five senses (excluding taste), paint a picture using words. You can write a story or a descriptive paragraph that you will add to your journal. Take your nature-inspired phrases and sentences and write them into your journal. Make sure you have 2 for each of the four senses. You can have more if you like.

After you have recorded the phrases/sentences, you can write a story or a descriptive paragraph about your experience. You could even write a poem!

**If you are including another student's phrase or sentence, explain WHY you "stole" that from them. What did you like about it, or why did you think it was powerful?


Student Exemplar from this morning:

HERE I SIT
A Descriptive Paragraph by J

Here I sit. Many children scream and play, discussing battle tactics like soldiers. The distant business pierces what was once silence. Birds of all varieties create a chorus of song, constantly echoing through the cool morning air. All of the sudden, the cacophony of children pulls me away from my work, beckoning me to join them. I turn my eyes to the sky, and it appears to still, waiting for something to happen down below. The long flagpole sways and dances in the gentle fall breeze. The wind picks up, and the leaves are forcefully ripped from the trees, creating a brilliant display of fall colors. It brings me despair to think that soon, this will all be gone, struck with the winter. There are large clouds of dust, causing my sense of smell to be useless. I long to be no longer bombarded by the mixture of autumnal allergens. Insects all around me create a disturbance, an unease. The grass lays down, dreading winter, hard with the essence of death. It’s hard to remember when all was green. For now, I try to enjoy the last of the nice weather before the barren cold that is winter strikes me. Here I sit.