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i need to make my teacher cry
ok so my teacher game me an F on a oral presentation, and when i asked why she said "it needed to be more heartwarming, cheesy, mushy..it need to make me cry for you to get an A" (she cries quite easily.. she cried during like 4 oral presentations so far! haha) anyways, im redoing the presentation and it's about "my favorite place" and i guess she wants me to say things like "this is where i learned to love" and thing equally cheesy (its going to be so embarrising doing this infront of my class!) but i need n A in this - so help! have you ever heard a heartwarming speech that moved you? and sentences or expression that are good to use?
thanks!
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Was this a pass/fail assignment? It seems odd that your teacher would only give out an A or an F, and that the sole criteria would be how many tears you jerked. If that was, indeed, the ONLY reason you received an "F", then you need to report this teacher. Your grade for an oral presentation ought not be based upon a subjective emotional reaction - nor, as the poster below says, should it be based on effort and content. It should be based upon your technique, your familiarity with the material, the logical progression of your presentation, your ennunciation, and that sort of thing. I don't know what class you're taking, but it's probably not Make-Your-Teacher-Cry 101.
It is not up to her to dictate to you why a certain place should be your favorite place. It is not your job to stir her emotions. It is her place to teach you the fundamentals of public speaking and presentation, and your place to put those lessons into effect. Whether she cries or not should be irrelevant.
All that being said, I really can't believe that this was the sole criteria upon which she graded. Did she say nothing about your technique? Are you SURE that your poor grade was based only on the lack of emotion in your speech, or was that just something she said would be required to get an "A"? In other words, what does one need to do to get a "B"? Presumably, it has to do with specific techniques of proper public speaking: organization, presentation, poise, ennunciation, posture, and delivery. I suggest you concentrate on those things, not tugging heartstrings. I would also strongly suggest that you tell your teacher that you think it is wrong for her to base your grade on her emotional state, and if she disagrees, take it to a higher authority.
Maybe then she'll cry.
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Please don't rate this low. I am not going to tell you how to make your teacher cry.
I think that you should at least try to make her cry (again, I'm not suggesting how). But if it doesn't work and you still have an F, you need to tell your parents to talk to an administrator, because teachers are not supposed to determine grades based on if they cried. Your grade should reflect the effort you put into the presentation and the content of it, not if your teacher was emotionally moved by it.
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I just got this in an e-mail. Use something along these lines, but, of course turn it around to make it your own story. I guarentee she will be blubbering like a baby...
It had been some time since Jack had seen the old man. College, girls, career, and life itself got in the way. In fact, Jack moved clear across the country in pursuit of his dreams. There, in the rush of his busy life, Jack had little time to think about the past and often no time to spend with his wife and son. He was working on his future, and nothing could stop him.
Over the phone, his mother told him, "Mr. Belser died last night. The funeral is Wednesday." Memories flashed through his mind like an old newsreel as he sat quietly remembering his childhood days.
"Jack, did you hear me?"
"Oh, sorry, Mom. Yes, I heard you. It's been so long since I thought of him. I'm sorry, but I honestly thought he died years ago," Jack said.
"Well, he didn't forget you. Every time I saw him he'd ask how you were doing. He'd reminisce about the many days you spent over 'his side of the fence' as he put it," Mom told him.
"I loved that old house he lived in," Jack said.
"You know, Jack, after your father died, Mr. Belser stepped in to make sure you had a man's influence in your life," she said
"He's the one who taught me carpentry," he said. "I wouldn't be in this business if it weren't for him. He spent a lot of time teaching me things he thought were important...Mom, I'll be there for the funeral," Jack said.
As busy as he was, he kept his word. Jack caught the next flight to his hometown. Mr. Belser's funeral was small and uneventful. He had no children of his own, and most of his relatives had passed away.
The night before he had to return home, Jack and his Mom stopped by to see the old house next door one more time.
Standing in the doorway, Jack paused for a moment. It was like crossing over into another dimension, a leap through space and time The house was exactly as he remembered. Every step held memories. Every picture, every piece of furniture....Jack stopped suddenly.
"What's wrong, Jack?" his Mom asked.
"The box is gone," he said
"What box?" Mom asked.
"There was a small gold box that he kept locked on top of his desk. I must have asked him a thousand times what was inside. All he'd ever tell me was 'the thing I value most,'" Jack said.
It was gone. Everything about the house was exactly how Jack remembered it, except for the box. He figured someone from the Belser family had taken it.
"Now I'll never know what was so valuable to him," Jack said. "I better get some sleep. I have an early flight home, Mom."
It had been about two weeks since Mr. Belser died Returning home from work one day Jack discovered a note in his mailbox. "Signature required on a package. No one at home. Please stop by the main post office within the next three days," the note read.
Early the next day Jack retrieved the package. The small box was old and looked like it had been mailed a hundred years ago. The handwriting was difficult to read, but the return address caught his attention. "Mr. Harold Belser" it read. Jack took the box out to his car and ripped open the package. There inside was the gold box and an envelope. Jack's hands shook as he read the note inside.
"Upon my death, please forward this box and its contents to Jack Bennett. It's the thing I valued most in my life." A small key was taped to the letter. His heart racing, as tears filling his eyes, Jack carefully unlocked the box. There inside he found a beautiful gold pocket watch.
Running his fingers slowly over the finely etched casing, he unlatched the cover. Inside he found these words engraved:
"Jack, Thanks for your time! -Harold Belser."
"The thing he valued most was...my time"
Jack held the watch for a few minutes, then called his office and cleared his appointments for the next two days. "Why?" Janet, his assistant asked.
"I need some time to spend with my son," he said.
"Oh, by the way, Janet, thanks for your time!"
"Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take but by the moments that take our breath away,"
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