AP Class Reflective Essay

At the start of the semester I struggle using the APA format and it showed in my essays.

As I walk into the school, I take a deep breath repeating the words “I can do this, I’ve done it before.” Laying my paper down to the table, the woman gives me the okay to head up to room 222. Walking up the stairs I could feel my heartbeat pound harder and harder, as if I had an elephant pounding on my chest. Realizing this was my last chance to take this test before I started applying to colleges, made my stress level rise uncontrollably.

I walked up to the red line and positioned my left leg behind my right. I coughed as loudly as I could to get everyone’s attention. Slowly, people started to stop talking and stared at me with curiosity. I paced back and forth trying to decide which teacher I was going to pie in the face.

In the beginning of my junior year, I had signed up for one of the most intimidating classes in my high school, AP chemistry. While I took chemistry honors, I heard rumors about the AP course and seen homework packets that overwhelmed me to the point of removing the class from next year’s schedule. However, out of impulsiveness, I decided it was time for a challenge and put the course back on my schedule. When I received my summer assignment for the course, I felt confused and regretful about the decision I had made. My commitment to not fail the class the first week back from break forced me to focus on the time-consuming homework. From my struggle, I managed to finish the packet on time. The school year began, and one of the first lessons

During my first few months here at Bethel I have learned quite a bit about writing. I have learned about APA writing skills, punctuation, paragraphs and time management thus far. College writing is different than what I did in high school so it has taken some learning for sure.

I had so many questions to ask the teacher. I rushed into class after lunch and sat at my desk. Tapping my fingers one by one I was eager for class to start. It looked like everyone else was moving like zombies coming into class and taking their seat. Three-minute passing period had gone by and class began. The teacher first started off with announcements I then rolled my eyes and slouched down in my blue uncomfortable chair. After that was review time, popping back up into straight posture I was ready. He went through questions one through ten showing the answers and ask if anyone had any questions. Immediately I shot my right hand in the air waiting impatiently for him to call on me. It was my turn and I had asked my question. He simply pulled up number ten and went through the steps one by one. Constantly writing each step to every problem I got wrong, my hand became to cramp up but I kept going. Also, looking at the promethean board and then looking back down at my study guide I felt as if I was a bobble head. Class was about to end and we discussed question fifteen. Getting up from my desk my head became to pound as if someone was using my head as a drum set. I knew when I get back home I had to do ten more math problems but after soccer

I walked into my class and sat down. Mr. Baroody announced that we were going to get our tests back, but I wasn’t worried. I knew that I did not get a 100% on the quiz, but nothing could prepare me for what was to come.

It may have taken me three years, but I actually appreciate that teacher now. It sounds crazy because why would I appreciate the man who ruined my perfect record? Because I needed it ruined and it was not his fault, it was mine. I needed the ego deflation it brought and I needed to know what that B felt like. During my time at Memorial, I have had that teacher three times and every time I’ve had him, I have received a grade below an A. I don’t resent him for it though, I appreciate

It is a warm fall day and I’m getting ready to take the ACT’s. The time is six forty-five am and I am just waking up to get ready for the test. The very first thing I do to get ready is shower, and once I’m done I put on sweatpants and a t-shirts so that way I’m relaxed. I eat a big breakfast so that way I don’t get as hungry throughout the day. I then continue by getting in my car and drive to the school to take the test. I then proceed to check in, and they check me in a then direct me to the classroom in which I will be taking my test. I’m now in my seat waiting to be given the test and I know that I am ready for the test because I have prepared. There are many steps a person can take to successfully prepare him or herself for standardized

a) Hannah is a friendly and approachable teacher. She creates a positive atmosphere that makes us feel comfortable when answering questions. The start of her lesson are engaging and we enjoy the topics that she covers during her lessons. However, she sometimes goes too slowly when giving feedback or when she is teaching grammar, she will spend a long time at the board which can sometimes get boring. But the speaking tasks at the end of her lessons allow us to practise the new language and to discuss interesting topics that have been covered during the lesson.

Although I worked late into the night on countless occasions studying for my A.P. Calculus class, sometimes struggling to wrap my head around complicated ideas and difficult equations, when the final grades for first semester came out, I had only earned a B plus in the subject. Instead of being devastated,

Anxiously waiting in math class to receive my grade back, I sat in my chair. I gazed around the room, only to find the rest of my class feeling the same way. This was the day we were given back our test, and this was not just a regular test. This was the test that could make your B turn into an A, with just one high grade. I don’t usually get this nervous to get a test or quiz back, but this was the last test of the marking period, and the most important one. I was seated in the front of the class, meaning I was going to get my test first.

I vividly remember sitting in the biology classroom, taking my time with the exam and trusting that all of the answers would pop into my brain. I hadn’t even finished the test when I could hear the bell ring to signal the end of the class. Panicking, my pencil dashed to fill in answers that I hadn’t been able to complete while I requested extra time after school to finish the test. My teacher was not the type to grant extra time, and I reluctantly handed her the atrocity that was my first test. I believed that I was doomed for the rest of the year.

Nervous and fearful, I had slowly walked the two feet from the bottom of the aisle to the center of the theater. There was no turning back anymore. I had already walked down ten rows and giving up would have been a complete waste of my twenty-five seconds. I stopped. I turned around and faced my audience. The upperclassmen seemed like hungry beasts. I seemed like a little rabbit. But there was no turning back.

rarely looked down at my paper to recall any points for my speech, as a result of my time spent