I USED AI (CHAT GPT) IN THIS LLN Translation Full Draft 

ChatGPT Prompt: “The words within the quotations are my language and literacy narrative. I want you to restructure and reword this narrative however you please while maintaining the core components of my original narrative. Make sure to keep the word length around the same. Thanks! ‘[insert LLN]’”. The AI then gave me an option to make the first version of what it gave me to have more of a storytelling tone, which I accepted, and the following is the final, second version that ChatGPT made for me, along with edits of my own to ensure that I did not solely use AI for this project. :

As a freshman, my English class was scheduled right before the sophomores’. Every day, I would linger in the hallway, waiting for their class to end. I couldn’t help overhearing their comments as they left. Some would shake their heads and mutter that their teacher was “such an ass,” while others shuffled out silently, their faces pale and tired. I began to imagine her as some kind of villain—unyielding, sharp, and impossible to please.

A year later, I was in her classroom. On the first day, I caught myself nervously tapping my foot under the desk. She went over the rules, then asked if anyone had questions. Nobody raised a hand. To my surprise, she dismissed us early. I walked out thinking, “She can’t be that bad. Surely the teacher I’d been warned about wouldn’t let class end early.”

I soon learned how wrong I was. When our first essay was returned, my heart pounded as I turned to the final page. At the bottom, circled in thick red ink, was a U. This grade equates to a 2.8 on a 4.0 scale. My chest sank. My palms were clammy. The only advice on the paper: “Go to the writing center” in blood red ink. 

That night, I reread my essay over and over. Yes, some sentences were clunky, and my evidence could have been stronger, but the grade still felt like a punch to the stomach. I buried my face in my pillow, screamed, and then sat at the edge of my bed, staring at the wall. Exhausted, I muttered before falling asleep: “I’ll succeed in her class no matter what.”

The next assignment was something she called the “perfect paragraph.” I had only 250 words to fit a thesis, evidence, and analysis. Freedom of topic, she said—but the word limit made that freedom feel more like a cage.

This time, I went to the writing center. A patient upperclassman looked over my evidence and reassured me that my choices were solid. “Only quote what you’re explaining, and always explain what you quote,” he reminded me. I took his advice, revised, and turned the paper in.

When the paper came back, my hands shook again. But this time I saw an M, the equivalent of a 3.5. I tucked it away in my bag, trying to look calm. Part of me had braced so hard for failure that I didn’t even know how to react to success. At the bottom, the same words: “Continue to see the writing center.”

And I did. Paper after paper, I went back, listening to every bit of advice. By my fourth essay, I had earned an H, which equates to a 3.8 on a 4.0 scale, a grade I had grown accustomed to seeing in my freshman year. Although I ended the year with an M, which was a lower grade than the H I received as my final grade my freshman year, I carried something far more valuable than a grade. I carried the knowledge that resilience pushes one to utilize all the resources available to oneself. 

Through my teacher’s push for me to use the writing center and through the use of my peers’ feedback, which I had sought out, I was able to learn more as a writer my sophomore year than I ever had my freshman year. Most high schoolers do not have access to peer tutors, and concepts such as a “writing center” are foreign to them. Such resources should be available to all high schoolers, because it is an integral part of learning how to fight for oneself academically and will ultimately help prepare them for the next step in education, if it is pursued, which is college. 

I USED AI (CHAT GPT) IN THIS LLN Translation Full Draft