I’ve always wanted to be an instructor. When I was little I always looked up to my teachers. I thought they were the coolest, smartest, prettiest people in the world. Now, I want to inspire my students and be inspired by them. I want to share my light with them so their light may be ignited.
Instructor… teacher? I had a teacher once, or well, I had many teachers. They all were very kind to me and let me take my own pace on things. I also once had a writing instructor online, they helped me progress in my writing and help me become the person I am today. Thanks to them, I’m here now! Instructors are very important to help us learn what we need to survive.
Rachel Koe
Cina instruts Katniss in the book The hunger games about how to go about doing everything. He is more of an instructor than the other guy who is drunk all the time. He teaches her that the audience loves her and that she can win the hunger games.
Chelliot Osuntade
a person who is a leader and teaches people what they need to know also .
shawnta rector
it reminds me of the doctors at the characters hospital that help him and it also reminds me of his therapist and the guitar player also show the patients how to do things so hes instructing.
Kyle Collins
the chrarter in book is a college professor. so I usually think ofinstructors when I think of teachers. the book is called the da vinci code is accually a real
Douglas Clark
well the book that I’m reading is about the gangsters on the old times that if they see each other they will fight instantly for the territory they’re complete different
Luis
I walked into the classroom and sat down in the very back, burying my face in my arms. So, my first day wasn’t going super well. I took a few deep breaths before reemerging. Maybe this class wouldn’t be so bad; it was Philosophy 101, after all, how totally taxing could it be? Weren’t we just supposed to talk about all the different answers to the question “Why?” or something? It should be called Bullshitting 101.
And that’s when the instructor walked in. My jaw hit the floor. Hot fucking damn. What a babe.
With a grimace, Lune turned away from the older man and looked back to the large black stone barring the path. He held his hands out before him, fingers splayed and trembling with the effort, as he closed his eyes and summoned the last dregs of his energy. He felt it crackle through his body, fanning from that focal point behind his eyes and the center of his chest, to the tips of his fingers and then out, all the while augmented by the tiny sparks of power contained in the bright green stones that hung by delicate silver chains from each of his earlobes.
The energy, no longer contained by flesh and blood, continued on, weak and hesitant as it searched for something to hold onto, until it met the rough, cracked surface of the stone. Lune inhaled deeply, and as he let out the breath slowly, manipulated the energy as he had been taught. The black stone trembled, and then rose a meter above the dusty trail upon which it had been resting.
But it wasn’t enough. As the last of his energy left him, Lune felt his hands seize up; breathing became difficult, and as his heart began to beat erratically in response to the stress. His concentration broke, and the line was severed. The stone fell back to the path, and Lune staggered toward it before exhaustion overcame him, and, barely conscious, he crumpled to the ground.
Parrett did not move to help him. “You haven’t learned a single thing,” he said, his tone as measured and even as it always was.
Lune didn’t have the energy to reply. He heard the old man reach into his bag rummage around for something before the sound of a match being lit reached his years; the smell of tobacco came soon after, followed by the familiar sound of uneven footsteps and a metal-tipped cane hitting the earth. A smooth line of energy hummed by Lune’s ear, and he turned his head to find the skin of spiced wine hovering beside him.
“Drink,” Parrett told him. He was sitting on the same stone Lune had been attempting to move, facing away from the boy and smoking his pipe. “We will continue in ten minutes – if you haven’t recovered enough energy by then, the only person you will have to blame is yourself. You know what I expect: I do not teach incompetent children with delusions of grandeur.”
The instructor whispered heavily in my ear, his hot breath stinging my skin.
‘I will ask you once more…you must get this right.’ his breathing was ragged from the exercise and yet he insisted on more.
there is a teacher instructing a class of how to wrestle a crocodile. he says first thing is first you must get them out of the water.
Matt M.
The old man looked upon his student with silent satisfaction. He expected some weak, fat, boy when he was told he would have to train Lord Garrin’s son. He was wrong. Lord Garrin’s son, Leon, was one of the most adept students he had ever had the chance to train the in art of swordplay. He had only been training him for a week and he was already parrying almost every blow he threw at him.
Connor Winslow
I want to be a scuba instructor because then i could just scuba dive all the time and thats better than what I do now.
Josh E
Strange music was coming from my musical instruror’s room. it was something from a horror movie. The announcement’s came on and that same music was playing over the entire school. Everyone was freaked out.
The instructor isn’t really all that important. It’s kind of like a teacher…class won’t go exactly how they want if the students don’t cooperate. yeahhhhhh…the end.
He was at the front of the class, sweating profusely. He shouldn’t have accepted. He hated kids. Substituting was the worst, the kids were the worst, everything about high school was the worst.
gabriellef
my karate instructor has had so much influence on my life. I wouldn’t be the same person I am today without her. She scared the crap out of me but eventually when I got my black belt, I felt like one of the older people. She helped me become a strong willed person. She’s a great teacher and instructor. She was my instructor for 8 years of my life and she is awesome. I promised her that I would thank her in my Grammy speech when and if I ever win.
KaliH
An instructor, a teacher, someone who is able to model some of the most trivial thing to the most defining moments in our life. We remember these important models as admirable characters in our life. These instructors are special to us and will be remembered eternally.
jessicag
The instructor was frustrated by procrastination.
Jenn Temple
He slammed on the passenger brakes and screamed “NO!” for at least the fifth time, even though I was well behind the imaginary line three feet behind the stop sign. He sighed, and buried his face in his hands, and proceeded to tell me, again for the fifth time, the story of why he was so adamant on me stopping so far back. His teenage daughter didn’t, mainly, and he tried his very hardest to make sure no other father lost their beginner driver, especially one with the same hair as his own daughter, as he told me many times before as well.
we listened. we scratched notes. we moved closer because he was a bit of a low talker. we liked him, but didn’t quite get it the first time, nor the second, or third.
Who thinks they’re an instructor anyway? What counts? I suppose you’d just have to know slightly more than the student, but really that’s all relative. Half the time, knowing more than the ‘student’ is really just a sense of confidence – false or otherwise.
Jmo
Do this versus how about this. The “in” means you are in it for me and for us. The “struct” shows me that it has a purpose, even the very best of chaos has a goal. The “or” shows me that I have options, it is not simply the instructor’s way or no way – we can go down different paths.
Mike Horrocks
He was an older man with a gentle smile and a forward demeanor. My initial impression was a positive one. But things are not always clear at first glance. He had a past, a past that would make the French Revolution look like a walk in the park.
Shaniqua
it was the fast hot motorcycle through the dry hot desert that time back in jaisalmer, he was in love with me i know but before i ever knew my own name even we were just flying across nothingness through broken dream and herds of goats, woman with a water pot on top her head then by the pond he told me he loved me and i said, but you’re my teacher
teenz
MY INTSTRUCTOR WAS a bad person, undeniably. From harsh words to whipping the cane, she was a typical “just-kick-the-dog’ person. And she did that. I didnt listen to her and she drowned my dog in our large bathroom, telling me I should’ve learnt my lesson. Well,now I was going to teach HER a lesson.
Shakira
It isn’t that i don’t like her, it is just that her style of teaching doesn’t match with my style of learning. I want authority, discipline, organization. She wants to be popular. As such, she has lost control of the class.
Rose
Fitness instructor , , swimming instructor, Teacher, Life goals
Amber
The instructor was regarding him with a fixed stare, her mouth twisted slightly. “How long have you been doing that?” she finally asked.
I love the instructor! Its not just that I love following instructions, although that too is true.I love that take charge, decisive action orientated personality.
Her fitness instructor was, as the term implies, really fit! why didn’t she try to get into shape before she met him. She’ll need to do double the hard work now.
The instructor folded carefully; a valley fold. I copied. We turned and bent and folded up and down. Finally with a flick of the wrist, she had produced a beautiful origami flower. I had produced a mashed up ball of paper.
He was the instructor of life. He didn’t practice what he preached though. Lots of big words. Lots of big ideas. But he never really followed through on any of them. Disappointed. That’s how he left me. Disappointed.
The instructor failed to inform the students of the present danger that was posed, after one of the security railings had broken during the last stage of the training exercise .
I’ve always wanted to be an instructor. When I was little I always looked up to my teachers. I thought they were the coolest, smartest, prettiest people in the world. Now, I want to inspire my students and be inspired by them. I want to share my light with them so their light may be ignited.
Instructor… teacher? I had a teacher once, or well, I had many teachers. They all were very kind to me and let me take my own pace on things. I also once had a writing instructor online, they helped me progress in my writing and help me become the person I am today. Thanks to them, I’m here now! Instructors are very important to help us learn what we need to survive.
Cina instruts Katniss in the book The hunger games about how to go about doing everything. He is more of an instructor than the other guy who is drunk all the time. He teaches her that the audience loves her and that she can win the hunger games.
a person who is a leader and teaches people what they need to know also .
it reminds me of the doctors at the characters hospital that help him and it also reminds me of his therapist and the guitar player also show the patients how to do things so hes instructing.
the chrarter in book is a college professor. so I usually think ofinstructors when I think of teachers. the book is called the da vinci code is accually a real
well the book that I’m reading is about the gangsters on the old times that if they see each other they will fight instantly for the territory they’re complete different
I walked into the classroom and sat down in the very back, burying my face in my arms. So, my first day wasn’t going super well. I took a few deep breaths before reemerging. Maybe this class wouldn’t be so bad; it was Philosophy 101, after all, how totally taxing could it be? Weren’t we just supposed to talk about all the different answers to the question “Why?” or something? It should be called Bullshitting 101.
And that’s when the instructor walked in. My jaw hit the floor. Hot fucking damn. What a babe.
“Again.”
With a grimace, Lune turned away from the older man and looked back to the large black stone barring the path. He held his hands out before him, fingers splayed and trembling with the effort, as he closed his eyes and summoned the last dregs of his energy. He felt it crackle through his body, fanning from that focal point behind his eyes and the center of his chest, to the tips of his fingers and then out, all the while augmented by the tiny sparks of power contained in the bright green stones that hung by delicate silver chains from each of his earlobes.
The energy, no longer contained by flesh and blood, continued on, weak and hesitant as it searched for something to hold onto, until it met the rough, cracked surface of the stone. Lune inhaled deeply, and as he let out the breath slowly, manipulated the energy as he had been taught. The black stone trembled, and then rose a meter above the dusty trail upon which it had been resting.
But it wasn’t enough. As the last of his energy left him, Lune felt his hands seize up; breathing became difficult, and as his heart began to beat erratically in response to the stress. His concentration broke, and the line was severed. The stone fell back to the path, and Lune staggered toward it before exhaustion overcame him, and, barely conscious, he crumpled to the ground.
Parrett did not move to help him. “You haven’t learned a single thing,” he said, his tone as measured and even as it always was.
Lune didn’t have the energy to reply. He heard the old man reach into his bag rummage around for something before the sound of a match being lit reached his years; the smell of tobacco came soon after, followed by the familiar sound of uneven footsteps and a metal-tipped cane hitting the earth. A smooth line of energy hummed by Lune’s ear, and he turned his head to find the skin of spiced wine hovering beside him.
“Drink,” Parrett told him. He was sitting on the same stone Lune had been attempting to move, facing away from the boy and smoking his pipe. “We will continue in ten minutes – if you haven’t recovered enough energy by then, the only person you will have to blame is yourself. You know what I expect: I do not teach incompetent children with delusions of grandeur.”
The instructor whispered heavily in my ear, his hot breath stinging my skin.
‘I will ask you once more…you must get this right.’ his breathing was ragged from the exercise and yet he insisted on more.
The words whispered. Glances exchanged. The inevitable course of action needed no further instruction.
there is a teacher instructing a class of how to wrestle a crocodile. he says first thing is first you must get them out of the water.
The old man looked upon his student with silent satisfaction. He expected some weak, fat, boy when he was told he would have to train Lord Garrin’s son. He was wrong. Lord Garrin’s son, Leon, was one of the most adept students he had ever had the chance to train the in art of swordplay. He had only been training him for a week and he was already parrying almost every blow he threw at him.
I want to be a scuba instructor because then i could just scuba dive all the time and thats better than what I do now.
Strange music was coming from my musical instruror’s room. it was something from a horror movie. The announcement’s came on and that same music was playing over the entire school. Everyone was freaked out.
The instructor isn’t really all that important. It’s kind of like a teacher…class won’t go exactly how they want if the students don’t cooperate. yeahhhhhh…the end.
He was at the front of the class, sweating profusely. He shouldn’t have accepted. He hated kids. Substituting was the worst, the kids were the worst, everything about high school was the worst.
my karate instructor has had so much influence on my life. I wouldn’t be the same person I am today without her. She scared the crap out of me but eventually when I got my black belt, I felt like one of the older people. She helped me become a strong willed person. She’s a great teacher and instructor. She was my instructor for 8 years of my life and she is awesome. I promised her that I would thank her in my Grammy speech when and if I ever win.
An instructor, a teacher, someone who is able to model some of the most trivial thing to the most defining moments in our life. We remember these important models as admirable characters in our life. These instructors are special to us and will be remembered eternally.
The instructor was frustrated by procrastination.
He slammed on the passenger brakes and screamed “NO!” for at least the fifth time, even though I was well behind the imaginary line three feet behind the stop sign. He sighed, and buried his face in his hands, and proceeded to tell me, again for the fifth time, the story of why he was so adamant on me stopping so far back. His teenage daughter didn’t, mainly, and he tried his very hardest to make sure no other father lost their beginner driver, especially one with the same hair as his own daughter, as he told me many times before as well.
we listened. we scratched notes. we moved closer because he was a bit of a low talker. we liked him, but didn’t quite get it the first time, nor the second, or third.
Who thinks they’re an instructor anyway? What counts? I suppose you’d just have to know slightly more than the student, but really that’s all relative. Half the time, knowing more than the ‘student’ is really just a sense of confidence – false or otherwise.
Do this versus how about this. The “in” means you are in it for me and for us. The “struct” shows me that it has a purpose, even the very best of chaos has a goal. The “or” shows me that I have options, it is not simply the instructor’s way or no way – we can go down different paths.
He was an older man with a gentle smile and a forward demeanor. My initial impression was a positive one. But things are not always clear at first glance. He had a past, a past that would make the French Revolution look like a walk in the park.
it was the fast hot motorcycle through the dry hot desert that time back in jaisalmer, he was in love with me i know but before i ever knew my own name even we were just flying across nothingness through broken dream and herds of goats, woman with a water pot on top her head then by the pond he told me he loved me and i said, but you’re my teacher
MY INTSTRUCTOR WAS a bad person, undeniably. From harsh words to whipping the cane, she was a typical “just-kick-the-dog’ person. And she did that. I didnt listen to her and she drowned my dog in our large bathroom, telling me I should’ve learnt my lesson. Well,now I was going to teach HER a lesson.
It isn’t that i don’t like her, it is just that her style of teaching doesn’t match with my style of learning. I want authority, discipline, organization. She wants to be popular. As such, she has lost control of the class.
Fitness instructor , , swimming instructor, Teacher, Life goals
The instructor was regarding him with a fixed stare, her mouth twisted slightly. “How long have you been doing that?” she finally asked.
“Who do you think you are, instructor or student?”
“I’ve been fortunate to live the privilege of always being both.”
“Do you think you have something to teach me?”
“Do you think you have the willingness to learn? Or do you already know everything?”
“I know I don’t really like you.”
“But I know you’re still here. Though if you dislike me that much, the door, of course, remains unlocked, over there, and ready for you anytime.”
I love the instructor! Its not just that I love following instructions, although that too is true.I love that take charge, decisive action orientated personality.
Her fitness instructor was, as the term implies, really fit! why didn’t she try to get into shape before she met him. She’ll need to do double the hard work now.
The instructor folded carefully; a valley fold. I copied. We turned and bent and folded up and down. Finally with a flick of the wrist, she had produced a beautiful origami flower. I had produced a mashed up ball of paper.
He said he was an instructor of his people, but from I have learned, he is a bitter unhappy man who is taking many people down with him along the way.
He was the instructor of life. He didn’t practice what he preached though. Lots of big words. Lots of big ideas. But he never really followed through on any of them. Disappointed. That’s how he left me. Disappointed.
The instructor failed to inform the students of the present danger that was posed, after one of the security railings had broken during the last stage of the training exercise .
Instruct me I guess
Crowd. Overstretched. Waist. Bones crack. Dry hands. Dry throat. Cracking voice. Sore speech. Coffee stench. Anxiety. Wet hair. Echo. Shuffling. Squeak. Tiny. So tiny. Invisible. Unheard. Failure. Red pen. Smile. Wrinkled paper. Laugh. Broken nails. Misunderstood. Blue pen. Scratched heels. Ringing sound.