Classroom Blog

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PinnedAdvice from Students - Research Report
Posted by Autumn Ottenad on April 17, 2017 at 10:50am

  • Research your topic well with reliable sources because you need to be knowledgeable on your topic. - Ethan VanGosen
  • Manage time, don't procrastinate, plan ahead, advocate for yourself. - Katie Stanos
  • Make sure to keep track of all your sources, that way it will be easy to reference them and you can justify your information. - Victor Marcenae
  • Make sure you are interested in your topic and wouldn't mind additional research. - Noreen Alam 
  • Be sure to read over your conclusion.  The subtopic notetakers are helpful with writing the paper. - Risa Wagner
  • Don't procrastinate start your report. - Gavin Browne
  • Make sure you get recent and accurate data from reliable sources, make sure you give credit! - Lizzy Jang
  • Stay organized - Eden C
  • Make sure you care abotu your topic, but make sure you don't seem opinionated.  Do the subtopic notetakers they will help. Ask others for help, they can catch things you might not. - Eva A.
  • Make sure to always go back and review your research.  Make sure that you enjoy it because then you'll be able to write better and be more in depth with your project - Bez Achebe
  • Don't procrastinate and use a lot of evidence to take up space on the paper.  Also use fancy words to make yourself sound smarter. - Tommy Brown 
  • When writing your research report make sure you archive and organize your information and data to make it easier to write your report.- Ruth Schmidt
  • Use the subtopics and have someone else edit - Aiden Lee
  • Subtopic notetakers are actually helpful when revising and editing the final draft.  Reading the final draft aloud also helps.  It allows you to better know if what you wrote actually makes sense. - Mason Bice
  • I would tell others to fill out the subtopic notetakers because they help in the long run. - Thalia Jurgens. 

Posted by Autumn Ottenad on March 28, 2017 at 7:39am

Log in to Career Cruising Website

Go to IMS Website and open link on the right hand side of page. (

Log in to Career Crusing :

Username: ISSA- four letters of last name, three letters of first name and grade year (Ex: ISSA-SMITJOE21)

Password: ASB Number

Click on Assessments

Click on Start Learning Style Inventory

Survey Student Examples
Posted by Autumn Ottenad on March 27, 2017 at 8:01am

Student Examples of Surveys

Survey link:

Link to survey:  

Create your Own Crossword
Posted by Autumn Ottenad on January 19, 2017 at 7:18am

Multi Genre Memoir Peer Editing PDF Sheet
Posted by Autumn Ottenad on January 18, 2017 at 7:28am

Example of Memoir Short STory
Posted by Autumn Ottenad on January 10, 2017 at 9:21am

Lost and Found This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This work has won the Teen Ink contest in its category.

By Anonymous, Westport, CT
Lost and Found
Image Credit: Cassandra Y., Williamsport, PA
I liked being a mess. The desk that should have been clear so I could do my homework was always besieged with bowls of cereal and spoiled milk, old magazines, and Post-it notes I had forgotten to remember. My floor was a vacuum in itself, eating anything entering my room. It consumed sweaters, stuffed animals, socks, shoes. When I occasionally did laundry, I would dig up clothes I couldn't even recall purchasing. My shelves overflowed with containers of little odds and ends: hair bands, chapstick, matches, loose mints, coins, earring backings. I couldn't always see these things, but I knew that they were safe, nestled somewhere on a shelf. Like old friends in a phone book, I figured that someday I would find all the loose strings and tie them together.

One lonely day in August when all of my friends had yet to return from camp in Maine, visiting family in Florida, or some community-service trip in Mexico, something inside me began to itch. I tried taking a shower, scrubbing myself with every bodywash and bar of soap I could find. I brushed my hair and my teeth, but didn't feel any cleaner. I checked my e-mail, which was empty. I checked the DVR to see if any new shows had been recorded, but I had already seen everything. 

I went downstairs and found my brother playing video games, my mom on the phone, and my dad in his office – everyone in their right place. I told my mom that something didn't feel right, and she suggested that for once I should clean my room. The thought itself made me nauseous. I went upstairs to sulk, feeling so overwhelmed that I might as well have been floundering without a boat in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.

When I opened the door to my bedroom, everything was in its usual cluttered arrangement. A plate of half-eaten pancakes sat on my desk, soggy with syrup from the morning. My bikini hung lifelessly from my doorknob, dripping pool water. My heavy covers lay crumpled and cold across my bed, molded by the twists and turns of the previous night. Piles of dirty clothes sat unsorted, collecting dust. 

I stood in the middle of the cluttered room, breathing in the filthy air that I had become so used to. In the silence of that moment, I began to hear the clock ticking. I became aware of the moldy smell. I noticed that a spider had spun a shimmering line from my lamp to the top of my mirror. I shivered in disgust. I remembered that winter how my stuffed animal, Vanilla, had fallen behind my dresser and I hadn't noticed until I caught the repulsive scent of her fur burning against the heater, until it was too late and she was permanently covered in brown spots.

I suddenly felt sympathy for everything in my room that I had buried, never to be seen again. Lost items I had blocked out for years made their way back into my consciousness: my favorite yellow tank top, the picture of my mom and me on that boat in Jamaica, my baseball card collection. 

I had an urge to dive under my bed and uncover everything lurking in the murky depths of dust, and to climb up into the highest corners of my closet and rescue items that had been mingling with the spiders. The innocent piles were growing higher and higher until they were looming monsters before my eyes. They were threatening to swallow me whole. I had to get rid of them. And so I started to clean.

In a box buried under old textbooks, I found a letter that my Poppy had written me at camp. I hadn't thought of him since his funeral. I suddenly remembered the thrill of running naked through cold sprinklers with my cousins, the spicy smell of barbecue mixing with the salty air at his beach house, and the distinct feel of his soft sweater rubbing warmly against my cheek each time he enveloped me in a hug. I remembered my dad rocking me to sleep the night Poppy died, and how the tears wouldn't stop. 

I sat with his picture, blocking out the rest of the mess around me. I was in the middle of a storm, but I sat there and studied him until I had memorized every line in his face. Tears began to roll down my cheeks again, and the relief was like the sound of heavy rain pounding on a roof at the end of a drought.

In the drawer next to my bed, I found a friendship bracelet my childhood best friend, Aubrey, had given to me before she moved to California. I traced the green and purple pattern with my thumb, realizing that I hadn't spoken to her in years. The next day I called her, and we talked all night, laughing about memories like dressing up as the Spice Girls for Halloween. She reminded me of the time we built a family of snowmen in my backyard and had a funeral for them when they'd melted. I had lost so many precious childhood memories over time, letting them slip away into the tide like grains of sand. It was the kind of conversation you never want to end because for each moment we talked, it felt like a bucket collecting droplets of water from a leak.

Under my bed I even found that picture of my mom and me in Jamaica. I had forgotten how turquoise the water had looked from our ship, but what really caught my attention, though, was my image. I had buck teeth, short hair, and pimples covering my face. I stared at that girl, barely able to recognize this person who had drowned in the mess of my room so many years before. I decided to completely re­organize and revamp my room so that all the books, belts, and baskets were in their right place. It was like finding the missing pieces of the puzzle. 

The finishing touch was framing that photo and hanging it high up on my wall. After all, it was me I had been searching for.

Writing A Memoir Video
Posted by Autumn Ottenad on January 04, 2017 at 3:21pm

Civil Rights Movement Video
Posted by Autumn Ottenad on January 03, 2017 at 12:13pm

Short Story Memoir - For Monday Dec 19th 2016
Posted by Autumn Ottenad on December 16, 2016 at 7:31am

Going Where I'm Coming From by Naomi Shihab Nye 

Also available on page 382 in your large textbooks.

In notebooks write a Journal 

Erika's Story
Posted by Autumn Ottenad on November 30, 2016 at 10:17am

Figure out what questions she may have asked people to figure out this information.