A Short Succession Of Steps Essay

My first day of the second grade, I knew no one except the teacher and my younger brother. Kindergarten and first grade had been easy enough, but I was scared of the upcoming year. The only thing I knew about being the new kid was that it hadn’t panned out too great for Addie from the American Girl books. Mrs. Henson’s class was fairly quiet throughout the day, for most kids were nervous or tired. We neared the end of the day and I was ecstatic over the fact that hadn’t made a complete fool of myself. I hadn’t met anyone yet, but I thought that that would be a challenge for another day. Unfortunately, that’s not what Mrs. Henson had in mind. She sent us all out to recess with a grin plastered on her face and with me practically kicking

Unfortunately, part of my high school learning experience has been learning from my mistakes. During my sophomore year, I was put on a five day suspension from school because I failed a random drug test for marijuana. When this happened, it seemed as if my life stopped and ended. My parents were shocked, my teachers were shocked, and even I would have been shocked a few weeks before this happened. Going into tenth grade, my reputation at my high school was that of a quiet student with great integrity and that is how I had been perceived my whole life. As being looked upon as an introverted person I was always encouraged to interact with new people and make new friends. I did just that but then found myself associating with the wrong type of

Students in the classroom come from a variety of backgrounds. Their lives are shaped by their families, their communities, but also their peers in school whom they will spend hours a day with throughout their educational career. The ability to form relationships with others, to create lasting friendships that grow and evolve with time, is detrimental to all children and their development. Lacking the ability to do so, whether it is directly because of their conditions or because of how other students perceive them, can dramatically harm them emotionally and mentally.

I was a very shy kid. Making friends wasn’t my cup of tea when I was younger. Based on this you can imagine how nervous I was when we moved. Joseph Campbell wrote in The Hero With a Thousand Faces, “It is only when a man tames his own demons that he becomes the king of himself if not of the world.” I was preparing to start school again in August when I decided it would be smart to begin associating with kids my age in the area; so, I began spending time with my cousin Lief. After spending some time with Lief, he introduced me to some of his friends and taught me to how to appreciate

The fresh faces of the 2016-2017 sophomore AP English class looked up at Mrs. Belles, some expectantly, some apprehensively. Among those faces is Francine Lamasko, a girl of 15 years of age, newly refreshed from summer and carrying her completed summer work. Decidedly, she thinks to herself, this will be a meaningful year of learning, of growth, and of fun. She is ready.

It was not the voice they were familiar with to greet them. They had almost come to expect Mom’s warm, quipped voice, or perhaps Mrs. Fletcher’s sweet, pitched calls, given how many times it had happened in the third grade. They remembered the hot embarrassment of having her repeatedly yell to them in the middle of class, of having students snicker as their slow, sluggish returned to the present.

As I am walking down the hall to Ms.Johnson’s room, I see something different. There is a sub today. I just really hope she isn’t as mean as she looks. When I walk into the classroom I get my folder and go to my assigned seat to start my “do now”. When the teacher walks in she says,”Everyone sit down and don’t make a noise unless you want a step!”

Escaping from the past, focusing on the present, and fearing the future, one enters the honors English classroom taught by Mrs. Roll, the tenth grade pre-AP English teacher. Because summer flew to its end, students became one step closer to their biggest fear- school. By the time one reached Mrs. Roll’s class, the quote, “I won’t be your friend, but I will be friendly,” was drilled regularly in one’s mind. Everyday in the class, there would be daily reminders of this warning. To be in her honors class was a risk, but also the wisest choice of them all. Not everything will go the way it is planned, but a little critiquing might get the task completed. With Mrs. Roll preaching to students day in and day out, she barely has time to remember all their names; therefore, what time does she have to be their friend? However, she does contain time to be friendly.

The five-minute warning bell goes off. I rush to my first class of my junior year, eager to see my classmates, who I was going to spend the rest of the 9 months with. I find myself stumbling into a classroom plastered with decorations of Denzel Washington with a Dr. Seuss book in his hand, a t and college flags galore. My AP English 11 class suddenly seemed so appealing to me. As a beautiful, curly haired short lady stood in front of me and said “Welcome to AP English 11,” I knew that I had found a treasure so much greater than just a pretty classroom. Little did I know, that short lady was going to inspire me throughout my challenge filled second-to-last year of high school.

Cliches, common at most high schools, often categorize and exclude students with unique interests and talents for being “weird”. Whereas, at St. John’s students genuinely appreciate the unique gifts present in each of their fellow classmates. Encouraged to feel compassion for fellow classmates and others, Prep student learn the benefits of considering the needs of others and helping were needed. As such, no one should feel alone at the prep with the support of their brothers ever present. Starting at a new school can be terrifying, especially when it comes to finding a group to sit with at lunch. While at lunch with his friends, one student noticed a boy sitting alone. He asked the boy to sit with them, and from that simple compassionate gesture, a close friendship developed. At the Prep students develop a network of friends within the community, a network not restrained by the boundaries of a cliche, but instead as diverse as their individual interests. Friends who celebrate each other's success and support each other’s needs, friends who will be present and who will not

I wish I had had a friend while growing up, but I did that myself by not wanting any friends. I could have saved myself a lot of suffering simply by trying to fit in at school. I had always told myself, “They don’t know any better. It’s okay.” I didn’t realize how mature my thinking was at the time. From being bullied, I learned how to strengthen myself and repress my feelings. I do not resent any of my classmates from elementary school since I have changed from my childish ways. My childhood taught me how mean children could be. I look forward to raising my own children and showing them the love I had never received in my

I attended a small charter school in Westland, Michigan. Between these walls, I broke and regained my pieces. My cultural difference set me apart from most of the kids - my accent, the way I dressed and the way I behaved. Social interaction with my peers were difficult because they didn’t know how to connect with me. When they did try to communicate, the conversation always provoked me. For instance, during the first week of school my table partner introduced herself and so did I. She asked where I was from and when I answered she was stunned. She later informed the rest of the class and for the rest of the day I was bombarded with outrageous questions like: Do you guys live in trees? How did you go to school? I felt so diminish as my peers indirectly stated their thought about people like

The school year approached its end. Another summer to spend alone by myself. The cycle had been repeating since I was in grade school. Sadness choked me as I returned home and shut my door. Every year, the resolution was the same: I would try to make friends next year; however, every year, I felt myself falling back down into the same trap. By the time high school began, I no longer felt the numb sensation of sadness or the flow of tears as the final day of May became the last day I talked with my “friends.” I no longer expected to make any friends, or, more accurately, I no longer expected to be able to make any friends. The sheer possibility of befriending an individual appeared to me as foreign as speaking in latin. When I walked into school, what should have been a site of chatter, opportunity, and growth appeared to me as a form of imprisonment and torture; however, unbeknownst to me, I did have friends; something of which I did not recognize until years passed by. I grown attached to certain conversations; there were times where I felt the need to initiate a conversation rather than waiting for someone else to make one. It was not until one of my friends told me,”We’re your friends aren’t we?” when I realized I was not longer

"Tasnim, can you please stay after class? I need to talk to you." I let go of the door handle and whip my head back to face my third grade teacher Mrs. Russell. She said my name correctly for the first time all year, though her voice was stern. I realize that my jaw has dropped by the expression on her face as she peers over her laptop. As I walk slowly towards her, my classmates whisper, "Ooh she's in trouble" as they sprint out the door for recess. I stand near my teacher's desk waiting for all the students to leave and when the room is silent, Mrs. Russell says,

The course known as English daunts them, entering causes a roar. The vibrant room fills atmospheres with chills, knowing she is near. What a pity, oh how the Freshmen await to be Sophomores.