Instructor is someone who instructs you to do something. That would be important if you have a relatively dumb personality with weird mental instincts. however, its is not very tough to contemplate for yourself what needs to be done once the importance of it is determined. Keep working hard and maybe you’ll instruct someone someday.
Vaibhav
adulthood
is when you get too old to like the people telling you what to do
is when “instructor”
changes from your pretty second grade teacher with the soft voice
to a boss who probably couldn’t pass that second grade class
adulthood is terrifying
we think we are for each other’s
good
to help them see what they themselves can’t know
maybe we are not
maybe we are just as flawed and no one is
the wiser
Lauren
I sat with my hand raised high, begging to be noticed, my eyes darting between the various people who gave up on their questions and set their hands back down on their desk, tired of extending energy to learn information they thought they would never lose. The teacher and I never made eye contact, but were aware of each other all the same.
Bridget
I think the student as the instructor is one of the most powerful ideas in education. I think kids offer so much in the way of teaching and they become learners by teaching as well. The instructor should be rethought. Who, when, how – all of it rethought. Jus
makisha
the instructor was graceful and fluid with his teaching
and somehow his words were reaching
the far away parts of my brain
with every minute passing there was a plethora of knowledge to gain
and i cant tell if it was good or bad
but i will say theirs a lot to be had
from the simple instructors class
Paris
A heart like blown glass and a gaze that shattered every last vestige of his hope was the only thing he could remember about that night. She taught him things he didn’t know he didn’t know. He felt like a cad, looking back, because all he could see were those big brown eyes and the innocence she was trying to hide. Innocence he used and discarded and said, “stay hidden, I have no use for that.”
The instructor isn’t in the institute, he is interviewing innovative idiots internationally.
Steve O
The instructor stood at the head of the room, he was teaching drivers education and I was taking it for the second time at the age of 26. I ran into a small church at night, and now there’s fines and lawsuits and shit. But by far the worse part is that I have to retake driver’s education.
Kathleen
Instructor , directioner , whatever
One thing I know is she/he is the one who will help someone to understand something .
Erika Nicole Sumague
Zawsze chciałem mieć trenera. Od sztuk walki, boksu, życia. To deficyt braku ojca. Myśle że to od tego, ponieważ trenerem mój ojciec dla mnie nie był. A każde dziecko chce trenera. Stąd
p w
he leans over the student’s desk and tries not to let his frustration get the better of him. they’re so small and filled with a sense of superiority. they know *nothing* he seethes. he wants to drown them in the things they don’t know; in the grief they haven’t experienced; in the losses they haven’t faced
He stands, the man, before us. He paces, spine stretched like steel, arms crossed tight. He throws words at us that tumble through our ears and rattle through our brains before bursting into nothingness.
Mr. Nicholson was a serious man, everyone could see his no-nonsense attitude towards absolutely everything in his life. His schedule was orderly, as well as his planning classes and his life…. everything except his most priced student: Jaden, who was a complete mess.
A person who gives instructions about something. He/she knows more about the stuff they are dealing with and so they instruct those who doesn’t know so that the others can learn. Often, they are experienced people in their field.
Hanusa.S
Teacher. Standing, waiting, pacing. A tall man with crossed arms and a look of authority. What a champion. Ego as large as the room. We sit, his peasants, his words running through our ears like water, leaving no resistance but mild erosion.
Michaela
He was supposed to be her instructor, but he was just taking the easy way out and giving her his knowledge. In the end, that only made things worse and she had a hard time going through everything he had given her.
Yet here she was, doing the same thing..
Nicole M.
she taught me how to lean back and recline,
oh that fine line, that extra course of wine,
her class brought about into my sass,
how dare she interject with her crude–
belt,
lash,
splash,
boom,
vroom
there we were, In her room,
two sane coats, hung up between lunch shifts, like a festoon!
The archery class instructor was six feet tall, muscular, frowning, and twirling a stray arrow between her gloved fingers. It was as if an Amazon had arrived to teach us how to shoot at bulls-eyes. Every part of her skin was tanned to a golden tone like leather in the sun. And when she finally smiled, there was still a glow of authority behind those white teeth.
Belinda Roddie
“Again.”
Lyrique winced as the dreaded word hit her ears. Her muscles felt like they were burning. Burning! She lay on the ground with what seemed like the weight of a thousand tonnes on her every limb, holding her there.
teach the world and build it. Slowly change every man that comes before your eyes and mold the creature to the truest person inside. Build slowly, time takes care of the rest. Day by day you do your best and some days it fails the test. never falter on this quest to change human mess into serene conquest.
James Podolski
She glanced over in the direction of the instructor, her eyes trailing as he walked too and from in the front of the class. The man pointed at the screen, his eyes crinkling on the sides as he watched the classroom full of people. He looked kind, and happy, the way a teacher was supposed to be; not grouchy, or evil, or bored. That was what you were supposed to see when you looked at the head of a classroom.
Scarlet
Nip shouldered the bow and jogged out to the kill laying in the meadow. It had been a clean shot and there would be plenty to eat in the village tonight. Nip was hoping this hunt would make his instructor proud.
Nip had been under his watchful eye for seven cycles of the moon and soon he would receive his final lesson. The instructor had spoken of his challenge. Nip was to become a black saber and to prove himself he would be left alone in the wilderness to find an idol placed where he must defend to achieve it. He would be given a time frame to complete his task. He would return triumphant or he would not return at all.
Nip was not afraid for himself, but for the instructor. If he failed, the instructor failed and would be sacrificed to the Gods. He couldn’t let that happen.
Instructor is someone who instructs you to do something. That would be important if you have a relatively dumb personality with weird mental instincts. however, its is not very tough to contemplate for yourself what needs to be done once the importance of it is determined. Keep working hard and maybe you’ll instruct someone someday.
adulthood
is when you get too old to like the people telling you what to do
is when “instructor”
changes from your pretty second grade teacher with the soft voice
to a boss who probably couldn’t pass that second grade class
adulthood is terrifying
we think we are for each other’s
good
to help them see what they themselves can’t know
maybe we are not
maybe we are just as flawed and no one is
the wiser
I sat with my hand raised high, begging to be noticed, my eyes darting between the various people who gave up on their questions and set their hands back down on their desk, tired of extending energy to learn information they thought they would never lose. The teacher and I never made eye contact, but were aware of each other all the same.
I think the student as the instructor is one of the most powerful ideas in education. I think kids offer so much in the way of teaching and they become learners by teaching as well. The instructor should be rethought. Who, when, how – all of it rethought. Jus
the instructor was graceful and fluid with his teaching
and somehow his words were reaching
the far away parts of my brain
with every minute passing there was a plethora of knowledge to gain
and i cant tell if it was good or bad
but i will say theirs a lot to be had
from the simple instructors class
A heart like blown glass and a gaze that shattered every last vestige of his hope was the only thing he could remember about that night. She taught him things he didn’t know he didn’t know. He felt like a cad, looking back, because all he could see were those big brown eyes and the innocence she was trying to hide. Innocence he used and discarded and said, “stay hidden, I have no use for that.”
The instructor isn’t in the institute, he is interviewing innovative idiots internationally.
The instructor stood at the head of the room, he was teaching drivers education and I was taking it for the second time at the age of 26. I ran into a small church at night, and now there’s fines and lawsuits and shit. But by far the worse part is that I have to retake driver’s education.
Instructor , directioner , whatever
One thing I know is she/he is the one who will help someone to understand something .
Zawsze chciałem mieć trenera. Od sztuk walki, boksu, życia. To deficyt braku ojca. Myśle że to od tego, ponieważ trenerem mój ojciec dla mnie nie był. A każde dziecko chce trenera. Stąd
he leans over the student’s desk and tries not to let his frustration get the better of him. they’re so small and filled with a sense of superiority. they know *nothing* he seethes. he wants to drown them in the things they don’t know; in the grief they haven’t experienced; in the losses they haven’t faced
He stands, the man, before us. He paces, spine stretched like steel, arms crossed tight. He throws words at us that tumble through our ears and rattle through our brains before bursting into nothingness.
Mr. Nicholson was a serious man, everyone could see his no-nonsense attitude towards absolutely everything in his life. His schedule was orderly, as well as his planning classes and his life…. everything except his most priced student: Jaden, who was a complete mess.
A person who gives instructions about something. He/she knows more about the stuff they are dealing with and so they instruct those who doesn’t know so that the others can learn. Often, they are experienced people in their field.
Teacher. Standing, waiting, pacing. A tall man with crossed arms and a look of authority. What a champion. Ego as large as the room. We sit, his peasants, his words running through our ears like water, leaving no resistance but mild erosion.
He was supposed to be her instructor, but he was just taking the easy way out and giving her his knowledge. In the end, that only made things worse and she had a hard time going through everything he had given her.
Yet here she was, doing the same thing..
she taught me how to lean back and recline,
oh that fine line, that extra course of wine,
her class brought about into my sass,
how dare she interject with her crude–
belt,
lash,
splash,
boom,
vroom
there we were, In her room,
two sane coats, hung up between lunch shifts, like a festoon!
My instructor is señora write she is amazing because she teaches my Spanish class I am her favorite student so she does what I want
The archery class instructor was six feet tall, muscular, frowning, and twirling a stray arrow between her gloved fingers. It was as if an Amazon had arrived to teach us how to shoot at bulls-eyes. Every part of her skin was tanned to a golden tone like leather in the sun. And when she finally smiled, there was still a glow of authority behind those white teeth.
“Again.”
Lyrique winced as the dreaded word hit her ears. Her muscles felt like they were burning. Burning! She lay on the ground with what seemed like the weight of a thousand tonnes on her every limb, holding her there.
teach the world and build it. Slowly change every man that comes before your eyes and mold the creature to the truest person inside. Build slowly, time takes care of the rest. Day by day you do your best and some days it fails the test. never falter on this quest to change human mess into serene conquest.
She glanced over in the direction of the instructor, her eyes trailing as he walked too and from in the front of the class. The man pointed at the screen, his eyes crinkling on the sides as he watched the classroom full of people. He looked kind, and happy, the way a teacher was supposed to be; not grouchy, or evil, or bored. That was what you were supposed to see when you looked at the head of a classroom.
Nip shouldered the bow and jogged out to the kill laying in the meadow. It had been a clean shot and there would be plenty to eat in the village tonight. Nip was hoping this hunt would make his instructor proud.
Nip had been under his watchful eye for seven cycles of the moon and soon he would receive his final lesson. The instructor had spoken of his challenge. Nip was to become a black saber and to prove himself he would be left alone in the wilderness to find an idol placed where he must defend to achieve it. He would be given a time frame to complete his task. He would return triumphant or he would not return at all.
Nip was not afraid for himself, but for the instructor. If he failed, the instructor failed and would be sacrificed to the Gods. He couldn’t let that happen.
I’ve already written twice about an instructor who was a dictator, made his students run and run ’till they dropped off, and coughed blood.
One day, a kid stood up.
Now, he’s dead.
One time, there was an instructor who ruled like a dictator, he made his students run ’till they passed out and coughed up blood.
Some day, a kid stood up to him, with a bat.
The kid’s in jail now.