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    Autobiography Exemplar

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    Eiman Mounir
    The narrator describes their first day of school at London Road Primary School. They were frightened in their uncomfortable uniform as they clutched their mother's hand in the playground. At 9 o'clock, Mrs. Hargreaves called the students inside where the classroom was austere and forbidding with seldom overhead lights. The students were instructed to find their desks with their names written on cards and sit in silence, with five students unable to read their names standing at the front under Mrs. Hargreaves' glare.

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    Autobiography Exemplar

    Uploaded by

    Eiman Mounir
    114 views1 page
    The narrator describes their first day of school at London Road Primary School. They were frightened in their uncomfortable uniform as they clutched their mother's hand in the playground. At 9 o'clock, Mrs. Hargreaves called the students inside where the classroom was austere and forbidding with seldom overhead lights. The students were instructed to find their desks with their names written on cards and sit in silence, with five students unable to read their names standing at the front under Mrs. Hargreaves' glare.

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    example of writing an autobiography

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    The narrator describes their first day of school at London Road Primary School. They were frightened in their uncomfortable uniform as they clutched their mother's hand in the playground. At 9 o'clock, Mrs. Hargreaves called the students inside where the classroom was austere and forbidding with seldom overhead lights. The students were instructed to find their desks with their names written on cards and sit in silence, with five students unable to read their names standing at the front under Mrs. Hargreaves' glare.

    Copyright:

    © All Rights Reserved
    Download as PDF, TXT or read online from Scribd
    Download as pdf or txt
    114 views1 page

    Autobiography Exemplar

    Uploaded by

    Eiman Mounir
    The narrator describes their first day of school at London Road Primary School. They were frightened in their uncomfortable uniform as they clutched their mother's hand in the playground. At 9 o'clock, Mrs. Hargreaves called the students inside where the classroom was austere and forbidding with seldom overhead lights. The students were instructed to find their desks with their names written on cards and sit in silence, with five students unable to read their names standing at the front under Mrs. Hargreaves' glare.

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    Non-Fiction Exemplars Autobiography Extract

    London Road Primary School was a small collection of Victorian buildings, nestled cosily beside the
    town’s larger and more modern comprehensive. To my bewildered, four-year-old eyes, it was a vast and
    frightening place.

    Squeezed into my uncomfortable grey skirt and stiff white shirt, I tugged constantly on the unfamiliar
    green and gold tie as I stood in the playground, clutching my mum’s hand on that first, frightening day.
    Around me, other small children clung to their parents, wide-eyed and fearful, waiting to be summoned
    through the doors of that great institution.

    At nine o’clock exactly, Mrs Hargreaves arrived at the door to reception class and beckoned us forward.
    ‘Single file, no talking,’ she commanded. Meekly, we said goodbye to our parents and lined up like lambs
    to the slaughter. It took all my strength not to burst into tears.

    Inside, the classroom was austere and forbidding. We were later to discover that Mrs Hargreaves had an
    aversion to electricity and very seldom allowed the overhead strip lights to be switched on. As a result,
    I spent the first two years of my education in a state of semi-gloom, both literally and metaphorically.

    ‘Find your desk and sit in silence!’

    Thirty trembling children wandered through the rows of desks, looking for their name, each of which
    had been written in a perfect, copperplate hand on small pieces of card, and then placed on the desks.
    Soon, most of us were sitting – save for five stragglers who found themselves standing at the front,
    under the gorgon’s eye.

    ‘Why are you not sitting down?’

    The tallest girl, who I recognised from play group as Lisa Smith, piped up bravely.

    ‘We can’t read, Miss.’

    ‘Idiots!’ Her voice rang in our ears and the smallest boy at the front started crying.

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