Book Report On Middle School The Worst Years Of My Life

Before the first grade, we moved around a few times before ending up here in Sylvania. As a child, both my parents worked full time jobs and I was always at after school day cares or at my grandparents houses, never really got to spend a lot of time with friends or was able to socialize with many people. So growing up most of my time was spent with my brother and I thought nothing of it. As I grew up I began to realize that I had become stuck in some bad habits. My brother and I weren't asked to help around the house much but when we were we never listened. But to my surprise there were no consequences for our disobedience. At the time I thought I had it good. Around the time I got too middle school I began to realize the problem. I began

James Patterson has been an author that has donated and helped the community on multiple occasions and is an award-winning author.. Patterson was born on March 22, 1947 in Newburgh, New York. His father was a school teacher and an insurance salesman. At 19 years of age, Patterson was writing stories casually, not for money at the time. Later in his life Patterson graduating summa cum laude with a BA in English in Manhattan College. Then decided to move on to Vanderbilt University for the full-time graduate program for English, but then decided to drop out only a year after because Patterson could not pursue his passion of writing stories and books if he is a college professor. When Patterson decided to pursue the writing career, Patterson moved to New York to become a junior copywriter for an advertising agency. Not a story writer yet.

From my experience, surviving middle school takes a mixture of luck, naive fearlessness, and an aggressive number of colorful plastic binders. I started my first day of fifth grade a jumbled mess of nerves, anxious about making friends and doing well in class, and inexplicably dressed head-to-toe in red, white, and blue swag my mom got when the Summer Olympics were in Atlanta. I mean, my backpack matched my shoelaces, which matched my pants and my shirt. I might have even had a hat. A hat. A precisely matching hat. That I wore all day. Needless to say, I was not a particularly cool child. I studied hard, had a core group of equally nerdy friends, and constantly worried about whether I was doing the right thing or, perhaps more accurately, becoming the right thing. Was I not studying hard enough to get into college? Or maybe studying too hard, missing out on my youth? Would I grow into my teeth one day? Would my skin eventually stop looking like greasy peanut brittle?

“Jovanie, I’m going to have to let you go,” my coach said to me in a nonchalant voice. My stomach started twisting in a million knots and I felt my eyes watering, but I was not going to let them fall… yet. “Not here, not now” I reassured myself. I slowly walked off the bus trying to act unbothered, but I was. Everybody that knew me understood what track was to me. However, starting off in a different school as a freshman, where nobody knew me was hard. I had to prove to them that I was a good runner, but I have failed.

I remember when it was time to go from being a 12 year old 6th grader, to a 12 year old middle schooler with a lot more responsibilities than I was used to having. I had to make sure all my homework was done on time (It took me awhile to get the idea of no late homework hammered into my head), asked for help when I needed it the teacher wasn’t going to help as much as the elementary teachers would do unless I asked, with asking for help was a lot harder than I thought it would be everyone was confused too, after awhile the teacher finally got tired of running around the room jumping from student to student, marched up to the front of the class and wrote on the board of how to do a certain assignment.

I like to think of middle school as the experimental period of your life before you can actually do anything once you get to high school. This is most certainly is true for me, not just because of my questionable fashion choices or hairstyles, but because I had gone through several different phases of wanting to pursue theater. Yep, you’re just a lucky one aren’t you? Another theater story. However, this story is a bit different from the last one. Yes, it is a story that shaped me into the person I am today, but not necessarily for the reasons you may have in mind. This is the story of one of the most shocking experiences I have ever endured throughout my time in middle school (and my life as a whole); a story about

There are many similar and different things in Middle School: The Worst Years of My LIfe and Alice: Through The Looking Glass. Many things about the story that can be compared and contrasted, including theme, plot, conflict, etc. I will be comparing and contrasting three story elements. The three I will be doing is theme, conflict, and feelings throughout the movies. Both movies were easy to analysis so I could type this essay. I will be compare and contrasting Middle School:The Worst Years of My Life directed by Steve Carr to Alice:Through The Looking Glass directed by James Bobin. Conflict is the first element. Both movies have one type of conflict in common. That conflict is “man-v-man”, both movies have a character fighting/going against another character for something

My first day of middle school was extremely difficult for me. I was nervous in my first class, I took a seat next to people that I knew in all my classes. There is no work on the first day, and the teachers basically tell you the same thing. As for lunch, I just found a friend that I used to hang out with last year, and then I found other people from my group from last year, we found a table and ate. I knew that I will like it a lot more than elementary school. In the middle I learned that I needed to work harder and become wiser. Not to let people get in my way of my education. I liked having several teachers instead of just one or teachers. I did not like sitting down in one class all day and I like to move around. I got the opportunity to have new people in each one of my classes. Finally going to middle school gave me to get a new experience. For some reason they work in middle school became easier for me instead of harder. I always thought going to a new school that the work

A time I faced a challenge was the beginning of the 7 th grade and my first year of actual middle school. I was not doing well the first few months of school and didn’t understand the work and I was shy and not open enough to talk to my new teachers. I would not understand the material presented in class and was not motivated. Towards the end of the first semester I was failing most of my classes and my highest grade was a C. I did not know what to do with my life I and with all the stress building up on me I didn’t know what to do . Until one day my mom wanted to do something about it and saw me challenging this action helped changed my life.

This narrative is about my years of middle school. I look back on my kindergarten days and wonder why I didn't care if I had many friends, why I didn't care what everyone thought of me. in my first school years of elementary school, I remember instead of playing on the grass the teachers only let us children under 3rd-grade play on the concrete blacktop whereas everyone else gets to play on the grass field. if I get hit in the stomach nowadays and land on this asphalt paved concrete I try to play it off like nothing ever happened, when inside I’m screaming. I try my hardest not to let out even the faintest of grunts because of what other people will think, while my mind is fighting against me to just let it out, of course this is unlike me when I was younger, because at that age either I was too busy focusing on anything and I would just bounce back up or because I didn't care what people thought of me and I let everything out without hesitation.

There is a picture on my fridge of my two best friends and me on the last day of Kindergarten, rosy red cheeks, smiles that could light up the night on our faces, the innocence of being five years old beaming from our bright eyes. An image that might outlast our friendship, but will forever be in my mind. All through Elementary school these two remained my best friends. Our little circle of friendship slowly grew as more people started to enter our lives for different reasons and we developed small friendships that threatened to pierce the bubble of our little trio. Nevertheless, our friendship didn’t falter. I believed this was the way friendship would always be: a tight-knit group who would alway be by each other's’ sides, through thick and thin. And then came middle school.

It was the first day of middle school and there were millions of people. At the beginning of the day I was so nervous. Okay Kelly, you can do this...you can do this...We all went to our first class.

Throughout the time I was in middle school I lacked support from both my parents. I didn’t have anyone to push me to try and receive good grades and both my parents cared very little whether I passed my classes. Lacking parental guidance, I received poor and failing grades throughout all of middle school. I created a poor working habit and had the mindset that school was not for me. It wasn’t until the end of my 8th grade year that I realized that the grades I received could ultimately shape my future. By then I was far behind from other students who had received good grades all of middle school. At the start of high school I was placed into regular ed classes and put in elective classes just to fill up my schedule. These classes put me

In middle school, I was not popular. I was kind of an outcast. I hated the popular kids my whole life, yet always aspired to be one. I hung out with the girls who listened to k-pop, watched anime, and loved alternative music more than life. I had popular friends, but they only spoke to me, when their other friends were not around. I was typically a person who takes humiliation to heart, took way too many jokes seriously. Most of the time it was because they were black jokes, which I didn’t think were funny. People have told me “ No you’re black.” or “ Why are you here? Africa misses you!” “ You look like Lil Wayne.” I never did anything about it and people kept doing it. Everytime someone judged me for being african-american, my self-esteem took a deep dive.

In a far away city not even close to NP3, which is the worst middle school on Earth (Note: not the worst middle school on Earth), came a war between the 3 middle school students named Jacob, Dillon, and Gio, which is where they find their true destiny in the process of saving the world (and partly damaging it in the process).