THE CURSE: DEVELOPING A PARAGRAPH

Using wh-questions to expand the topic sentence is one technique of developing a paragraph.  In the Malaysian English literature component, students need to understand and identify elements of interest in the plot to be used as textual evidence.  Students also need to give their own opinion in the concluding sentence of the paragraph. 

Samples of students' work...

Actual Display in the Classroom

DESCRIBING CHARACTERS

A.  Students described the main character's physical appearance 

B.  Student's description of character traits.

SIMPLE SENTENCES

What makes a simple sentence?  How else do we help students with little English language exposure learn to make sentences besides getting them to read more English books?

2.  It's a real challenge for the second language learners in my school to construct sentences most of the time.  Using wh-questions is certainly effective.  For very basic sentence structure, getting students to give information on WHO or WHAT (SUBJECT) and WHAT ACTION is taken (VERB) is extremely helpful.   

2.  A simple sentence can have expansions or information that answer the questions WHERE and WHEN.

3.  A simple sentence can also have more than two expansions or information, answering the question HOW.

4.  A simple sentence can have more expansions / information that answer the questions of whom, whose, why, how, how far, how long, how much and so forth.

5.  Just remember expansions or information can answer any type of wh-questions.  It doesn't always have to follow the sequence of where, when, why and how.  The wh-questions in the expansions or information can be in any order.

Taken from Mdm Sukeshini Nair's slideshow.

6.  When students get used to using wh-questions to help them construct simple sentences, we can introduce the  SSVEEE (Setting - Subject - Verb - Expansion - Expansion - Expansion)  or SSVIII (Setting - Subject - Verb - Information - Information - Information)  technique. 

To be continued... Look out for SSVEEE technique...


Check out these websites:-
Tunstall's teaching tidbits
Crafting Power Sentences 
Shut the Door and Teach

WRITING ABOUT A SCENE

In this activity, the students had to look at the scene and describe what they thought was happening.  Look at the two different techniques used.  One is direct description and the other, evolving a storyline around the scene.  

More on how to go about teaching descriptive writing.  See here.

Art by Khun Lwin

The fresh scarlet apples rolled like tiny crimson balls on the pavement as a lady in her nearly twilight years accidentally dropped them onto the middle of the hustling and bustling road. It seemed that the recycled brown paper bag that held the fruit was torn apart. To her great fortune, the traffic light blinked its eyes and turned its color into fiery red.

Hannah and I showed our empathy. We decided to assist the poor helpless woman. We crossed on the dim white zebra-crossing that looked like it had been there forever; moving towards the other side of the junction where the old lady squatted to collect her apples. As we approached the lovely motherly looking lady, we offered some help to her. She did refuse at first but we insisted in assisting her and she could not do anything but showed us her gratitude and sugary smile.

“Bam!” A powerful sound roared. My heart nearly jumped out from its place. It beat so hard it was like I had just been chased by a pack of famish ferocious dogs.

“Oh my God! Hannah, look! The same path that we took just now,” I spoke in disbelief.

We were one step from death just now. I reminisced  to the moment when I was waiting for Hannah earlier.

When I was lounging on the classic wooden recliner at the veranda, I grabbed some local newspapers that belonged to my dad while killing some time waiting for Hannah to pick me up for our outing.   It was like killing two birds with one stone. While waiting for her, it was better for me to spend my precious minutes by scrounging something beneficial or any catchy information from the news. While my turquoise eyes lolloped from column to another, the daily horoscope caption had caught my interest.  “97.8% is proven to be true!”   I thought to myself how superstitious it was.  However, I found my eyes continually searching for the Aquarius symbol – my horoscope.

The breeze blew as swiftly as the sweet melody of jazz music that could be heard from my neighbour's.

“The road that you might cross may become taboo for you or anyone indeed,” the oracle of the day from the news told me. My jaw dropped and my eyes widened.

“Jade, Hannah is waiting for you at the front. She has been honking her mini Cooper for ages!” my dad suddenly barked from somewhere in the interior of our house, irritated maybe. I grabbed my handmade knitted olive scarf that totally matched with my casual outfit and my little polka dot clutch and soon made my way to Hannah's.

''Jade? Jade! What's wrong with you?'' Hannah's voice pulled me back to reality.

''Uh, nothing,” I responded but my mind still remained on the car crash.

An aloof young woman had parked her bike next to the scene. It was weird as nobody else offered any help to the victims. The other motorists looked undisturbed by the unexpected event. A school bus and a few cars were just passing by like nothing had happened. The victims were both men and they were very lucky indeed for having just a few cuts on their limbs. The biker helped one of the men to get out of the crashed cars. While the other young man got out of the car by himself and also took out some boxes with him. She then later pressed the button on her mini cellphone, probably wanted to call for some help. Before she was able to place the mobile phone onto her ear she froze for a while, hearing a noisy siren from the police car that echoed from nowhere.

“Mrs Bennet, here are your apples. Let's go to a safer side. Come on Jade,” Hannah commanded. I was barely able to stand by myself. Was the prediction really true? My eyes still glued to the scene. Everything happened too fast. As I walked slowly to the pedestrian walkway, another boy on a bicycle did not realize he was heading towards the poor man that was carrying his goods. The quite good looking boy apparently was too busy staring at a cute girl next to the road. I dashed as fast as lightning to save the man.

For the price of saving the man, now I ended up resting on the hospital suite. Maybe the forecast was right and I should heed them every day.

By:  Diyana (SMK Muhibbah / 2013)

Leaning my head ever so gently on the glass window of an ancient blue school bus, I slouched on the patched up seat.  I peeked through the transparent glass intently observing the scenery changing from the boring never ending rows of local boutiques, cafes and chain restaurants to the most glorious shopping complexes that stood crowded in the heart of the city.   There I reminisced about the previous month which had only been like an imaginary dream to me.

“I am sorry to inform you Mrs. Thumbs that you have contracted breast cancer. Stage 4,” stated the doctor apologetically. I was stunned by the sudden realization that I have been diagnosed with a terminal disease that had haunted me since I was a child. The similar disease that took my dearest mother away when I was just a little girl on her way to kindergarten and it was going to take the life of her daughter too. The doctor explained that I have only a couple of months left to live. Two months to be exact to live the rest of my brief life and finally retire to being a lifeless vessel buried underground for old friends and close family to visit.

“I’m not ready to die just yet. There’re so many things that I have not done.” I managed to choke out. Begging more to God than to the doctor in front of me. My eyes swelled and I felt the warm stream of tears steadily pouring down my cheeks like a broken dam that had been holding a disproportionate amount of water for too long. My dark bitter mascara that I had applied earlier that morning was slowly melting into a puddle of mess as it smeared through my face and landed on my parted, chapped lips.

My precious time has finally come to an end. Unfortunately, I did not become United States’ first female president. It was something I have always wanted to be but could only dream of. The closest I could get to a government related career was a 9 to 5 job at the Newberry’s School. ‘Life is too short to be walking around feeling miserable’ my mother once told me. Now I finally understood what she really meant. Honestly, I have never felt this type of intimacy with my mother before. I could finally comprehend what she was going through in the last moments of her life. I started seeing everything in a new perspective, in her perspective. Everything around me just felt slow and deliberate.

A road accident abruptly erupted. An old capped man cursed profanities on the top of his lungs at another careless driver who apparently had left the crime scene, probably too scared to face the fuming driver or rather too petrified with the ensuing repair bills.

Amongst all the wreckage something peculiar perked my ears. I could hear the piercing sound of the police siren wailing, effectively warning people to clear the way for the officials to do their job which was to keep the citizen of New York safe and sound for the day.

As if on cue, a passerby at the side of the road turned around just in time to register that a speeding bicycle was about to knock down his towering collection of books but could not avoid the impact. Collided, both the man and the female cyclist laughed deafeningly to their current situation. Books scattered all over the place and daisies blown out by the wind.

I chuckled to the sight of this as it reminded me of myself when I was younger. Clumsy Thumbsy was my nickname chosen by my mother for me. Before I could ponder more on the matter, my bus finally began its motion after what seemed like an eternity for me which was really 3 minutes in reality. I felt a bit elated from my current condition seeing how a man could still smile even though losing his prized possessions. Maybe I could be like that, take everything in my stride and just go with the flow.

I took a final parting glance at the city that I grew up in, quietly muttered a small ‘thank you’ to no one in particular and bid New York farewell as I braved through the journey to my final destination, mother’s holy grave.

“Mom, wait for me I am coming.”

By:  Tan Poh Keng (SMK Muhibbah / 2013)

THE FISH POND

Read this story and finish it off the way you want to.  Try to be as descriptive as you can.

The Fish Pond

The oval shaped fish pond stood there quiet and serene as the early rays of sunshine pierced the outer layers of the glasshouse’s exterior. The crisp cool morning air settled deep within my lungs as the shadows and light intermingled on the flat undisturbed water, playing with each other, the Lilly Pads watched on. They always did this, I observed,whenever the morning sun was able to break through the gloomy winter cloud. The many pads large and small spread out over the water’s surface,  green flat circular serving plates awaiting the day’s meal of sunlight. Only a  single delicate white flower broke the sea of green, the bell of the ball looking to be asked to dance but alas no likely suitors awaited,a symbolic wall flower. Most of the activity this morning was below the surface. The small silver fish, amphibians and invertebrates stirred into life, darting here and there as the light penetrated all the way to the bottom of the grey concrete pool. The casual observer would find it difficult to see many of them as they sort out security under the canopy of the Lilly pads. All this was happening as two young women stood on the far side of the pond talking in earnest with each other. 

What were they thinking?  Was there a problem or....... ? 

STUDENTS' STORIES 2013

This was an exercise where the students had to read half of an existing story and conclude it themselves using the technique taught of Show, Not Tell.  The original story is Trip of Discovery.

Conclusion to Trip of Discovery

By:  Mohd Firdaus  (SMK Muhibbah / 2013)  

Another flash of lightning struck across the dark void sky, accompanied with a bolt of roaring thunder. With a loud frightened scream, she missed her footing and experienced a free fall down the ravine. She held Kevin tight to her chest, shielding him with both of her arms, hoping that it will somehow reduce the impact of falling on her precious son. With what seemed like an eternity, she landed on a rocky surface on her back with a loud thud. Sharp rocks cut her clothes and pierced through her spine. Pain shot through her whole body and she yelped out in agony. She tried numerous times to flex her finger but her effort was futile. Panting wildly, she murmured soft nothing to her crying son. “Hush my little baby…” She rocked her body from side to side to comfort Kevin.

“Molly, where are you? Stay still, I’ll find you,” John’s somber voice echoed through the air.

“I’m so sorry, little Kevin. Mummy will always love you,” she whispered and gave her surrounding a last look before her heavy eyelids drooped. Her body relaxed and her mind wondered about her son before exhaustion took over. The corner of her mouth lifted up for she knew John would find their baby and she would finally be in peace.

Holding his rusty oil lamp over his head, he scanned the ridge frantically while his alcohol-fused mind cleared. He had never felt this lost and desperate in his life – he lost the Black Opal and his wife on the same fateful day. A piece of jagged fabric fluttered violently under the storm caught his eye. He ran towards it and tore it out from the huge boulder where it was stuck. He let out a shock gasp at the sight of Molly’s limp bleeding body and a crying Kevin thrashing aggressively against his baby blue blanket.  With great difficulty, he descended down the steep ravine.

Regret filled his mind. By the looks of Molly’s lifeless body, he knew her life was seeping out from her body. Gently setting Kevin aside on the ground, he held her dead body close to his and repeatedly chanted her name, as though that would bring her back to life. He looked at her beautiful face one last time and climbed out of the deep pit, with a crying Kevin in his arms. By the time he reached his cabin, the storm had subsided.

He paid no notice to the debris around the cabin and strode into the house with full purpose. He knew what he had to do. He peeled off Kevin’s wet clothes and dressed him in dry warm clothes. He put him down into his cot, stuffed him with his favourite dinosaur toy and lulled him to sleep. He undressed and lay on the floor next to the cot. He knew Molly had always felt uneasy with him sleeping buck naked, but what was there to be bothered about now since nobody will be seeing him? After all, Molly was already dead, probably on her way to heavens, leaving him alone to take care of Kevin. Sleep was hard to come by but he shut down his wandering mind and forced himself to sleep.

With renewed energy, he woke Kevin up and fed him. He stashed all the money he could find into his wallet and packed all Kevin’s toys and clothes into a bag while he only packed a few choices of clothes for himself. He was a man with simple needs; he needed no other complexities in his life. Hiding the house keys below the cactus pot, he headed towards his old beat-up truck. He was giving his cabin away to nobody. Whoever was unlucky enough to be stuck in Lightning Ridge with no house but smart enough to look under the pot could have it. He could not bear to stay there anymore; in it were all the memories he and Molly had created together. He knew she hated the place, but he was too blinded by the need to be rich to even care.

After driving for miles, he finally saw an average-looking house and thought that would do. He fussed over Kevin, feeding him and making sure his clothes were warm enough for mid-autumn before he put him down in a bundle at the doorsteps with a note. He rang the doorbell and made a hasty exit. He knew he would change his mind if he had stayed longer. He felt guilty, but most of all, he felt empty. He loved his baby boy, very much indeed, more than his own life, but there was nothing else he could give him. All he had left was a few hundred dollars with him, with no other possessions under his name except for his truck and cabin, which both were in bad condition. He was thinking of going back to Sydney, but the guilt he felt over Molly’s death was too strong that it engulfed him, eating his soul away.

With a sharp turn, he returned to Lightning Ridge, to where his wife was brutally killed, at the bottom of the ravine. Saying his last prayer, he jumped down the ravine, soul and body uniting with Molly’s. He had made a holy vow in the name of God to always cherish and love her on their wedding day. Now that he had failed to do so, he felt the need to punish himself by committing suicide. The last thought he had was regret and hope; he would never have the chance of seeing Kevin grow up and become a better man than he was, and he hoped that Kevin would be taken in by a good family who would love him unconditionally and take great care of him like their own flesh and blood.

Conclusion to Trip of Discovery

By:  Fiona Aw Man Fei  (SMK Muhibbah / 2013)  

He darted towards where he saw the silhouette of his wife just to find nothing but boulders and pebbles along the road. He howled in tears while taking a blow of disappointment to the head.

“Molly! Molly! Where are you? I’m truly sorry, Molly. Come back home with me. Please..."

He continued to shout for his wife. His deep voice outmatched the beating of the rain and could even be heard by the townsfolk. Suddenly, a strike of lightning accompanied by a burst of thunder lit the sky like a chandelier. Then, something unusual happened that left the  towns people filled with questions. After the frightening burst of thunder occurred, none of the villagers heard anything more other than the beat of rain pouring down their rooftops. John’s voice was never heard again. 

While Molly, on the other hand, took shelter at a nearby bus station. She quickly reached into the pocket at the side of her dress and pulled out a lighter while collecting newspapers around the bus station and created a huge pile of newspapers. The baby cried out while she was trying to work the lighter. She patted the back of the baby in hope of calming him down and ignited the newspapers to warm both of them. When she was about to leave, she stumbled across the only person whom she knew in the town. A newly graduated doctor, Caitlyn Johnson. Caitlyn was startled when she saw Molly alone with the baby at the station. 

"Here, take this,"  as she took off her jacket and gave it to Molly who was now trembling in cold. Then she asked Molly what had happened to her.

 The Doctor told her that she was about to leave for Sydney and offered for her to come along. However, Molly declined. Before Caitlyn could even ask why, Molly quickly requested, “Could you please bring Kevin with you and raise him as your own son? There is nothing for me left in Sydney but there is still hope for my baby. So, please give my son a happy and secure life”

Caitlyn nodded, her lips quivering and her eyes welled up. Molly lifted the innocent baby and placed him in Caitlyn’s arms. She struck her hand into a hidden pocket at the back of her dress and pulled out an envelope containing the money she had saved for Kevin. 

“Please take this, it’s all I have,” she stretched out her hand while offering the envelope to Caitlyn.

“No, you need this more than I do,” Caitlyn explained while rejecting the offer, but Molly kept on insisting that it was for the baby. Caitlyn finally accepted it and ambled carefully to her car with the baby in her arms. 

“Thank you!” Molly screamed with tears pouring down her cheeks.  A very sorrowful situation indeed.

Four months later, Caitlyn came back to the village with Kevin. Caitlyn smiled the whole journey in the anticipation of  seeing Molly. However, when she was driving just before arriving at Molly and John’s house, a miner stopped her and inquired why she was going to the house. 

“Nobody lives here and the town is in the opposite direction,” the miner stated

Caitlyn was confused and was left speechless for a moment. She tried to explain about Molly and John to the miner, but he kept on denying their existence. The miner let her passed to show her that there was nothing at the end of the road but boulders and rocks. Unfortunately, it was true. Molly and John’s house had became a pile of rocks. Caitlyn drove back to town. She thought that they might have moved into a new house. When she arrived, she asked everyone she knew of Molly and John’s whereabouts but all of the townsfolk gave the same reaction. They all paused for a while, stared at the distant location of where Molly’s house used to be and left without a word. Caitlyn then headed towards the town head in hope of finding the answer. He told her everything, about what happened on that night.

A few days after the incident of the stormy night, Molly and John went missing. Nobody really knew what happened to them. Caitlyn felt upset and staggered towards her car. She burst into tears. Then, she turned her head and stared at Kevin. She knew what she had to do. After a night of rest at a nearby motel, she left the village determined to take care of Kevin as her own son.

“The library is open now!” 

A shout from a librarian suddenly surprised Kevin who was about to fall asleep on the bench. 

“Aren’t you coming in?” 

Jack stood up while staring at the 60 years old Kevin. Kevin turned his head, facing Jack and smiled. His smile left Jack confused in utter silence. A smile that had a thousand meanings. 

PONDE'S STORY

Aboriginal Culture Images

YOUNG AUSTRALIAN ABORIGINAL BOY  (Simple Tell)

Ponde was a young boy.  He lived with his tribe near the beach.  He would sit on a rock and look out at the sea.  He saw seagulls flying and walking on the sand.  Crabs also walked on the sand. Under the sand were cockle shells and these shells were collected by the women in the tribe. They used their toes to find the cockles.

THE YOUNG ABORIGINAL BOY  (Tell with a little Show)

Ponde was a young aboriginal boy who lived with his tribe on the southern coast of Australia. Most days he would sit on a large rock near the water to look at all the things that made his world.  Seagulls would stretch their long thin wings and glide low over the golden shiny sand. The sun glittered off the backs of the soldier crabs as they marched back and forth being chased by the rising tide.  The water would never quite reach them but it did with the cockle shells that lived under the soft wet sand where they could be easily found by looking for the tell tail pattern of bubbles that appeared on the surface.  Ponde loved looking at all the activity and was never bored with what he saw.  That day the woman were collecting the cockle shells for lunch.  Ponde watched on as the women pushed their bony feet into the soft sand to feel for the cockles with their toes.  When they found one they quickly bent down and scooped them up into their long fingers and placed them into a basket.

4000 YEARS BEFORE THE PRESENT   (Show)

The sun was not yet high enough to burn off the grey mist hanging low over the outgoing water. The lowering tide slurped back and forth along the full length of the white pristine beach. The tug of war between land and sea was gradually being won by the receding water.  The salty cool air clung to the low lying limestone cliffs, breathing life into the lungs of the new morning. Winter and the cold south easterly winds would soon arrive bringing with it the rains to quench the thirst of this dry sparsely vegetated landscape.

Ponde, on top of a limestone outcrop, crouched down low on his haunches, feet spread wide apart, balanced perfectly, relaxing while he looked seaward.  Through the salt spray he saw the women swiveling their bony feet into the soft tidal sand, feeling for the prized cockle.  Ever so often their toes would come across the hard smooth shells.  When this happened they would quickly bend down to scoop the cockles up into their long thin outstretched fingers, then with care, transfer their find into the net bags they carried over their shoulders.  This occurred many times during the course of the morning.  He watched on, feeling increasingly hungry.

By:  Alister Thorpe