Read the student essay excerpt below, paying attention to how the argument is organized.

A lot of schools are banning phones, and I get why: nobody wants a classroom full of glowing screens. But the conversation often treats phones like they are only distractions, when they are also tools students already use to manage their lives. At my school, the proposed policy would require students to place phones in locked pouches from first bell to dismissal, including lunch and passing periods. The principal says it will “restore focus,” but focus is not the same thing as control.

For one thing, a total ban ignores the reality that students have responsibilities that don’t disappear during the school day. Some students coordinate rides with siblings, babysitters, or parents working unpredictable shifts. When the office is the only communication route, it creates bottlenecks and delays, and it assumes every home situation is stable. A policy that treats every student as equally supported at home ends up punishing the ones who are not.

Also, the ban would make school less safe, not more. Schools constantly tell us to report concerns immediately, yet a locked-pouch rule delays communication during emergencies or even smaller issues like harassment in a hallway. Adults might say “just find a teacher,” but teachers aren’t always there in the moment. The point is not that students should be scrolling in class; it’s that access matters at specific times.

Finally, banning phones all day is a missed opportunity to teach self-management. We say we want students ready for college and jobs, but those environments require you to regulate your own attention. If we never practice making choices, we don’t build the skill. A smarter policy would set clear classroom boundaries while allowing limited access in lunch and passing periods.

Therefore, schools should not ban phones.

Which revision of the bolded thesis best previews the reasoning that follows?

Read the student essay excerpt below.

Our city council is debating whether to replace two downtown parking lots with a small public park and a weekend market space. Opponents keep saying “we need parking,” as if asphalt is the only way a city can function. I drive too, so I understand the fear of losing convenience. But cities are not just places to store cars; they are places where people live.

The first reason the lots should become a park is economic, even if that sounds backwards. A pleasant public space brings foot traffic, and foot traffic is what small businesses depend on. When people linger, they buy coffee, browse stores, and return with friends. A parking lot is a dead zone: you arrive, you leave, and you spend nothing in between.

Second, the change would address a basic equity problem. Not everyone can afford a car, and not everyone is able to drive. When the most valuable land downtown is dedicated to parking, the city is prioritizing a minority of residents while asking everyone else to accept fewer benches, fewer trees, and fewer places to gather. Public space is one of the only “free” amenities a city can offer.

Third, the lots are environmental heat traps. In summer, the pavement radiates heat into nearby apartments and storefronts. Trees and shade structures would cool the area and reduce stormwater runoff. This isn’t just “nice”; it affects health.

The council should convert the parking lots into a park.

Which revision of the bolded thesis best previews the reasoning that follows?

Read the student-written argumentative passage below, then answer the question.

My state is debating whether to require a semester-long personal finance course for graduation. Students already take years of math, but many graduate without knowing how interest works outside a worksheet. That gap shows up fast: eighteen-year-olds sign for credit cards, choose student loans, and agree to apartment leases. We tell teenagers to “be responsible” while refusing to teach the vocabulary of adulthood.

A personal finance course would give students practical knowledge they can use immediately. Understanding compound interest, budgeting, and taxes is not “extra”; it’s basic. Even students who don’t plan to go to college still have to manage paychecks and bills. And students who do go to college face financial decisions that can follow them for decades.

Some critics say schools shouldn’t teach money because families should. But that argument assumes every family has time, stability, and experience to pass down. In reality, many parents are learning these systems themselves. School is the one place designed to provide a baseline education regardless of background.

Others argue the schedule is already full. Yet schools make room for what they value. If we can require a semester of health to teach nutrition and safety, we can require a semester of finance to teach economic survival. The goal isn’t to turn students into accountants; it’s to prevent avoidable mistakes.

Which thesis statement would most effectively introduce the argument’s structure?

A personal finance class should be required for graduation.

Read the following student-written argumentative passage (AP English Language style, 300–450 words). The essay’s thesis is intentionally imperfect.

Our cafeteria is switching from disposable plastic utensils to compostable ones, and some students are complaining that it’s pointless because “one school can’t change the planet.” I understand the frustration—global problems feel too big. But local choices still matter, especially when they teach people how to think about waste.

The school should switch to compostable utensils.

To begin with, the switch reduces the amount of long-lasting trash our school sends to landfills. Disposable plastic forks and spoons can persist for decades, while compostable materials break down under the right conditions. Even if the difference seems small day to day, the cafeteria serves hundreds of meals, and the waste adds up quickly.

Second, the policy has an educational effect. When students see compost bins and learn what can go in them, sustainability stops being an abstract poster on the wall. It becomes a routine. That matters because habits are easier to build when the environment makes the better choice the default.

Third, switching utensils can push the district to improve its waste system more broadly. Once compostable utensils are in place, it makes sense to compost food scraps too, and then to track waste more carefully. A single change can create momentum for bigger changes, which is how institutions actually evolve.

Which revision of the bolded thesis best previews the reasoning that follows?

Read the following student-written argumentative passage and answer the question below.

People act like community service hours are automatically meaningful just because they’re “required.” At my school, students scramble in May to get signatures, not to actually help anyone. They pick whatever is easiest, sometimes even asking relatives to sign forms for chores that would have happened anyway. The requirement turns service into a checklist instead of a habit.

The problem starts with motivation. When service is treated like a graduation hurdle, students focus on finishing, not learning. That’s why you see groups of students doing the same one-day event and then never returning. Volunteering can be powerful, but only when students have some choice and time to reflect on what they did and why it mattered.

Another issue is equity. Students with jobs, siblings to watch, or unreliable transportation have a harder time completing hours. Meanwhile, students with parents who can drive them to weekend events can rack up hours easily. A policy that claims to build character ends up rewarding free time and resources.

A better approach would be to integrate service into classes or advisory periods. Partner with local organizations during the school day, and ask students to write short reflections or present what they learned. That way, students aren’t just collecting hours; they’re connecting service to civic responsibility.

Mandatory community service hours should be removed as a graduation requirement.

Which revision of the bolded thesis best previews the reasoning that follows?

Read the student essay excerpt below.

Our cafeteria is considering switching from disposable trays and cutlery to reusable ones. Some students complain it will mean more dishwashing and slower lunch lines, and they’re not wrong to worry about inconvenience. But the current system hides its costs by sending them somewhere else: into trash cans, into landfills, and into the air when trucks haul it away.

The most obvious benefit is waste reduction. Right now, one lunch period fills multiple bags of plastic forks, wrappers, and foam trays. Reusables would cut that daily stream dramatically, which matters because our school produces the same kind of trash five days a week for nine months.

Second, it could actually save money over time. Disposables look cheap only because we buy them repeatedly. Reusables cost more upfront, but they last for years, and the school already pays for custodial work and utilities. Even if the savings are gradual, they are real.

Third, the switch would teach responsibility in a practical way. Students would have to return trays and sort leftovers, which is a small habit but a meaningful one. Schools constantly say they want “real-world skills,” and this is one.

The cafeteria should switch to reusable trays and cutlery.

Which revision of the bolded thesis best previews the reasoning that follows?

Read the student essay excerpt below.

Some students want our school to start later, and adults respond with the same line: “Just go to bed earlier.” That advice sounds practical, but it ignores biology and the way homework, sports, and jobs stretch into the evening. A schedule isn’t just a preference; it’s a policy that shapes health.

One reason later start times matter is sleep. Teen circadian rhythms shift, making it harder to fall asleep early even when students try. When the first bell is at 7:20, students accumulate sleep debt, and that affects memory and mood.

Another reason is safety. Drowsy driving is real, especially for students who commute. Even students who take buses are affected when tiredness increases risk-taking and slows reaction time in hallways, parking lots, and crosswalks.

Finally, later starts can improve learning without changing the curriculum. More alert students participate more, retain more, and need fewer “catch-up” days. Teachers spend less time fighting fatigue and more time teaching.

School should start later.

Which revision of the bolded thesis best previews the reasoning that follows?

Which revision of the bolded thesis best previews the reasoning that follows?

Read the following student-written argumentative passage and answer the question below.

A lot of schools talk about “preparing students for the real world,” but then they treat phones like they’re contraband instead of tools. In my high school, the policy is simple: phones must stay in lockers from first bell to last, and teachers can confiscate them if they even appear on a desk. The result is not a calmer learning environment; it’s an environment where students feel policed. When something is banned outright, students don’t suddenly stop wanting it—they just get sneakier, and class time gets wasted on enforcement.

The biggest problem is that a total ban ignores how phones can support learning when adults set clear expectations. In English, students can quickly look up an unfamiliar allusion rather than sitting confused, and in science, a timer app can help labs run smoothly. Even more important, phones are assistive technology for some students: translation apps, text-to-speech, and organizational reminders can be the difference between participating and falling behind. Schools already differentiate for learning styles, so it’s strange to draw a hard line at the device that many students use to access those supports.

A second issue is that banning phones doesn’t teach self-control; it avoids teaching it. After graduation, nobody will lock away distractions for us. Colleges and employers expect people to manage notifications, focus during meetings, and use technology responsibly. If schools never allow guided practice, students won’t develop the habits that matter. A structured phone policy—like “face down during instruction, allowed during independent work”—creates opportunities for teachers to coach attention instead of just punishing lapses.

Finally, the ban isn’t even consistently fair. Athletes sometimes get exceptions for coordinating rides, and students with strict parents worry about missing messages about family responsibilities. Confiscations also tend to hit the same students repeatedly, which makes the rule feel less like a learning strategy and more like a discipline trap.

Schools should end all-day phone bans.

Which revision of the bolded thesis best previews the reasoning that follows?

Read the following student-written argumentative passage (AP English Language style, 300–450 words). The essay’s thesis is intentionally imperfect.

My city is debating whether to allow food trucks to park near the downtown plaza during lunch hours. Some restaurant owners argue that trucks will steal business. Others say trucks will make the area livelier. I think the city should say yes, not because food trucks are trendy, but because they can solve practical problems downtown has had for years.

The city should allow food trucks downtown.

For one thing, food trucks can increase foot traffic, which helps everyone. When more people come downtown for lunch, they don’t only buy tacos or dumplings; they also walk into bookstores, pharmacies, and small shops. A lively plaza makes downtown feel safer and more worth visiting, which is something our city has struggled to create after 5 p.m.

Second, food trucks lower the barrier for local entrepreneurs. Renting a storefront is expensive, and new owners can’t always afford long leases or renovations. A truck can be a stepping stone, letting cooks test a menu and build a customer base. If the city says it supports small business, it should support the kinds of businesses that can actually start.

Third, the city can regulate trucks in a way that addresses restaurant owners’ concerns. Permits can limit the number of trucks, set distance rules, and require health inspections. The choice isn’t “chaos” or “no trucks.” It’s whether the city wants to manage a potentially beneficial system or block it out of fear.

Which revision of the bolded thesis best previews the reasoning that follows?