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Departure

Assessment Model Print

Strong Personal Narrative

This narrative tells of the day a middle school student had to say good-bye to her home country.

Title: Departure

Level: Grade 6, Grade 7, Grade 8

Mode: Narrative Writing

Form: Personal Narrative

Completed Rubric: Departure Rubric

Blank Rubric: Narrative Rubric

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Student Model

Departure

My brother and I were watching TV when my dad called, “Anna, Patrick, we’re going to have a family meeting. Go to the dining room.”

My brother’s eyes met mine. Family meeting? We never had one before. And that gave me a very odd feeling. As soon as we arrived, my dad started, “We’ve stayed in this country—I mean house—our whole life. And there are times that we have to leave and go on.”

I really didn’t understand what my dad was saying—country and leave?

“What your dad is saying is that his company is transferring him to the United States,” my mom clearly explained.

“What!” I stood and exclaimed.

“Anna, sit down. You’re the oldest, and you should understand. We’re all going to leave. Tomorrow we’re going to the embassy for the papers and that’s final,” my dad said in anger and left.

We were approved at the embassy and granted visas, and we were leaving June 10. We spent our last ten days packing up things and selling some of our appliances. We also found someone who would rent our house.

On June 10 my mom woke me up early. She said, “We have to leave early or the traffic might catch up on us.”

“Well, I hope so,” I told myself.

We placed all our baggage on top of the van and headed for the airport. I was the last one in the car. As we moved farther along, I could see my home fading away. And in that moment, I felt a part of me would still be there.

We arrived at the airport at 8. As I passed the metal detector, it went off because I was wearing a jumper with a metal buckle. At that time, I wished the police would take me and not let me on the plane. I didn’t get bored while waiting for our flight to be called because I was watching the Bulls playing the Knicks.

“Flight 800 is now boarding. Flight 800 is now boarding,” announced the lady. That was our flight.

We gave the tickets to the stewardess. We were accompanied by this other lady that showed us to our seats. Luckily, I sat beside the window, and watched as I left my country. My body might be going to the U.S. in this journey in my life, but my heart would stay in the Philippines.

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