A Personal Experience : My Experience In My School

The students drew near as I reluctantly scurried towards the young mens bathroom where I could finally be alone. At the time, I lived in the snowy areas of northern New York, and while attending the infamous middle school, all of my worries in the world were heightened by 200%. From the first day of school, I wanted to fit in. While not even knowing what “fitting in” was, I was determined to do it. I desired to be liked by everyone around me with no worries in the world. I didn’t know that ironically, you couldn’t have both. As I tried to fit in, I noticed that others would flee from me in the halls as if I had an odor of a thousand pounds of garbage. I was confused why others would shy away from me in projects and hallways until the hints

As we pulled up to the massive elementary school building, I begged my mom to let me stay home from school, just once. As usual, she said no. Realizing my attempt to get out of school was futile, I shouldered my backpack, swung open the door, and trudged over to the front door. I would rather be anywhere else than here. For the majority of my life, I attended public schools. It wasn’t rare for me to fail a test or even a whole class. It was because of these failures that I would get even more demotivated and threw away the idea of working hard or completing quality work altogether.

I am accustomed to my high school library where lots of students talked very loudly and rarely got any work done. At the Marist library, I walked down the hallway on the third floor where the reading rooms are. There were dozens of people in each room, but it was so silent that only my footsteps could be heard. I started walking at a faster pace because I was worried that I was disturbing the peace and that I should leave quickly.

High school hallways are the worst, most annoying places on the planet. First, many people in the hallways walk slower than a heard of snails traveling through peanut butter. Seriously, have you ever experienced anything more irritating than trying to get to class on time and the group ahead of you insists on poking around the halls as though they have nothing better to do? Another awful act that sluggards in the hallway commit is dragging along when the person behind them obviously has to use the bathroom as soon as possible! Second, people in the hallways struggle with walking on the right side of the passage. They exhibit this ignorant behavior when they walk against hallway traffic and don’t realize it because they are too preoccupied

Brentwood high school is a public high school filled with thousands of kids and it is constantly growing each year. There are a lot of good things that come with going to this school, but one of the worst is walking through the hallways, each period after the bells rings the halls get filled with so many kids who don’t seem to want to go to class. As I'm walking down the halls the hallways are so packed all I can do is keep my head and rush to class as fast as I can so that I am able to get to class on time. One of the many worst things of walking in these hallways is we are all so close together that we can smell each others body odor, how nasty is that? Especially when we are coming back from school and the weather is still hot out, normally

My high school days are frustrating to say the least. In my classes, laughter and contentment, and sometimes boredom fill my mind and body; however, walking in the halls is a different story. Filled with inconsiderate students, my mind and body fill with anger when I see the most aggravating act that the school holds. (Exaggeration)

After visiting the office, being assigned a locker and getting your new schedule, an office clerk shows you where your locker and first class are located. Clusters of teenage girls and boys, your peers, bustle past you, moving in all directions. Their stares cut through you to the depth of your being. You hug your books close to your chest as a protection from their glares and the quizzical looks on their faces, attempting not to make eye contact with anyone. You couldn’t let them see the hurt, the unacceptance and fear you felt as an outsider. If only you could shrink to the size of a mouse and scurry along the wall, out of sight, run from prying eyes.

Starting the day started off by waiting in my seat a 3rd-grade classroom at River View Elementary taught by Mrs. Course. Surrounded by the same people every day waiting in agony to get called out of the classroom. It was thoughtful of the teachers to let me leave almost every day, so I could gain help with reading during the time everyone else was reading with the teacher. Although leaving early every day left me wondering if anyone notices. The teacher walks up to me and says “Shaylee it’s time to go.” After that worry, the other 3rd graders will notice I abandon the classroom seeps into my thoughts. The volcano of questions starts to explode, creating inquiry thoughts of “What if they make fun of me?”, “Where did you

February 9th, 2016, 11:45 A.M. I’m sitting at the first long table to the right of the Wood Dining Commons at Muhlenberg. I Just finished my lucky charms and the empty bowl has a few mushy left over cereal charms left. As the lunch rush starts to begin my soundings start to become loader. I see many familiar faces as they walk in and out of dining hall. Being part of such a small school has its advantages and disadvantages. You see people you know all the time even if you do your best to try to avoid them. Trust me I have tried many times avoiding people but seem to always run into them at the dining hall. As I look around at different groups I can tune into different conversations people are having. It was easier to tune into the conversations while the dining hall have as many people. To the right of me there is a group of five girls. They are speaking about how large the Bananas are today, “it’s literally the length of my head.” To the back of me there is a group of Lacrosse boys sitting at the first round table talking about their six o’clock morning practice and how dreadful it is. To the left of me at the next long table looks like one of the head chefs and maybe the boss of the dining hall. I have seen them both before sitting exactly there. I can’t really hear what they are speaking about. Maybe how things should be different, or maybe what is going to be on next months meal plan. But of course my imaginary takes place of what they are probably

There are 1200 students at Roanoke High School, all crowded into a brick building that looks more like a Lego sculpture than a school. I walk past lockers and drinking fountains and doors, and every few seconds, someone brushes my shoulder, mostly by accident, I think. Girls who are touching up their makeup in front of small, magnetic mirrors look disgusted by me as I walk past. Boys in jerseys or Hollister sweatshirts stare at me as they pass, sizing me up with vigilant eyes. Sometimes, I meet their gaze and wonder if I could beat them up. I bet I could, most of them anyway.

When I arrived at P.S. 206 for my first day of the 4th grade on September 2nd, 2008, I was not fluent in English and a complete stranger. Since I went to a modest religious school in an insignificant town in Chernivtsi, Ukraine, I was only used to interacting with a small number of students and teachers each day. Not surprisingly, I clutched my lunch bag with anxiety to protect myself from the never ending crowd of boisterous children in the lobby of my new school. Needless to say, I was frightened and incapable of speaking up when asked where I was supposed to be. Fortunately, a teacher came up and attempted to engage me a conversation; however, my face was full of confusion. Despite her generous assistance, my day was filled with anxiety from my bizarre surroundings. My basic abilities had suddenly been torn away from me.

In contrast, my next class was band. Oh boy, it was loud hectic and I had no idea where to sit. During the class, Mrs Ferguson made us stand up, according to what school we had come from. About half of the class from Acadia, half from Leach and I was the only to stand up for HGI. For those two seconds, everyone had their eyes trained on me, probably judging me. I was frozen, never had so many people looked directly and only at me. Class ended shortly after and it was time for

It’s the very first day of highschool and as the bell rings, signaling it’s time for the first hour to start, the teacher of the class thinks it’s a great opportunity for everyone to walk around and introduce themselves to their new classmates who would be spending the rest of the school year all together. However as everyone stands up from their desk to indulge in the activity assigned, there’s one kid who wishes he had not come to school today. He wishes he could sit there for the rest of the next ten minutes, not having to stand around awkwardly; just to wait for someone to approach him. He cares not if he gets in trouble for choosing to not participate along with everyone. He just can’t stand the thought of having to talk to another human being who he has never met before in his life until

After a few more minutes, we get to school. The building is 3 stories tall, having 900 students to take care of. It always feels a little cramped, but I have gotten used to it. I walk through the giant glass doors, and walk through the tight and crowded halls. The smooth white tiles glistening the light from the lights over head. It gets a little deffing sometimes. The bright lights, and white floors. Sometimes I feel like the only thing keeping me from insanity here is the fact that the student’s clothes are different

Bone-shaking anxiety filled the morning of my first day of high school. Coming from Christ the King, I had never had more than twelve kids in a class with me, and now I would have a minimum of twenty? That alone made me nervous, but I also had to walk through the dreaded Senior hallway to get to my Science class, and I was terrified at the thought of making my way through that maze of giants. However, everything went smoothly in those areas, and all that awaited me was the class that I feared the most: Concert Band I. It was one thing to walk through the hallway with upperclassmen, but now I had to be in a class with them. Needless to say, I was mortified until I walked into the room and the first sentence I heard was, “Hey Erik, welcome to