Personal Learning Management Sylvia Rene’ Crozier PRG/211 September 9‚ 2013 Vic Echeverria Personal Learning Management The question at hand; is it possible to design an application to record high economic value learning tasks or insights that will allow for periodic review? Yes it is possible‚ yet there is a level of complexity to design such an application. To solve the problem the application needs to determine economic value or insight that will allow for review the important lessons
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The dog yapped wildly as its owner slowly spoke. Her voice was fairly unique‚ in that it was both squeaky and deep‚ like a distorted teenager going through puberty. The dog‚ however‚ was the usual garden variety mutt you can find digging through trash all over the country. His fur was mostly white‚ with brown streaks of indeterminate origin. I sat on an old couch that had most likely been passed down generation to generation‚ with each tear and rip being covered up with duct tape. The couch was less
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things. As my brothers got on rides I wasn’t tall enough to get on at Disney I would wait crying because I felt excluded but after they got off the ride and walked up to me the tears stopped and the giggle started. Everyone knew my giggle growing up‚ my mom used to say she could
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Last year‚ after summer vacation‚ I went into my student soccer team kind of sad‚ my past captain‚ the person who I had really admired‚ had moved to another team. I did not really feel down though‚ because there were many of my friends that were playing with me this year. The greatest thing I had learned about soccer is “Team Spirit”‚ which I thought my team was full of. Day by day‚ we played together‚ joked in the yard‚ hung out after tired matches‚ I was so happy to have them as teammate. In my
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Fishing For Hayden “Thunk!” As the last door to our car closed‚ we started toward the lake. It was a warm‚ sunny day in Maine. We were camping and had been hiking‚ when we decided to go fishing at a lake. The morning mist was warm today. “Let’s go Hayden‚ come on‚” my dad said. I wasn’t the type of kid to get really excited about these things. “I don’t want to!” I yelled from the car. “But you need to learn to fish‚” my dad said back. My dad started to yell at me as I jumped out the car‚ and grabbed
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During my adolescence‚ I always stood out. I moved from Lowell‚ Massachusetts‚ which was filled with family‚ culture‚ and traditions‚ to eastern North Carolina at the age of six and entered a new school. Moving to a new state changed my life; I was no longer surrounded by my family and culture. Having an Indian Heritage I was the minority in my new town. Being the only Indian in school made me self-conscious growing up. This prohibited me from building new relationships with other kids my age. Dealing
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I despise the games so much for all the pain they cause to the districts. Why do 24 people have to fight to win a stupid game; men‚ women‚ teenagers even kids aren’t spared. The people of the capital make me sick. Every year I watch friends killing friends and family killing family. The worst part of all of this is that the capital calls it a retribution….A penance for the uprising that happened all those years ago. Every year we are forced to watch the inhumane tv show called‚ “the hunger games
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I believe in a small tract of land in Augusta‚ Georgia exist a vortex to the Heavens. The vortex consists of azaleas‚ tightly mowed southern grass enclosed by century old pines and closed off to the world except for the select few. There is not a set way for one to gain ability to reside here‚ instead one has to set their own path. People aspire to make it‚ however without a template the challenge rises in difficulty. Every April the world gets a glimpse of the safehaven. The time is short lived
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He goes to the hoop. He jumps‚ hanging in the air for what felt like eternity. It was his second game. Brought up from the D-League‚ he needed to prove himself. His name is Jeff “Elmo” Beige. As the ball is coming down‚ closer to the hoop another individual comes into play. The name is unnecessary to know‚ but the man is key to Jeff’s story. The man jumps. He didn’t have to‚ but he did it anyway. His six-foot ten body could have easily blocked the shot on Jeff’s six-foot five structure. As Jeff’s
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Monaco She Phoenix‚ Arizona. My home. You would think with name like a bird of fire it would be inspiring‚ breathtaking even magical. But it isn’t. It’s just another desert city. And I’m just another desert nobody on another desert summer day. He She’s a hurricane. She’s the greatest and most devastating of storms. Even in the bone dry summer‚ she changed my world and brought rain and snow and hail. She rained down on me when I least expected it. Before I could even get my umbrella out‚ she soaked
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