Graduation Speech - Original Writing Essay

Nine years ago, I never could have imagined I’d be writing this essay. I was a senior in high school, and, like the rest of my classmates, I was apprehensive about the future. Unlike my classmates, I felt like I had missed the proverbial “you need to get your life together” message. I watched my classmates apply to colleges, their majors already decided and their future careers mapped out. While I was an above average student, I felt I lacked the decisiveness my classmates seemed to have. I did not feel passionate about a career or even a field of study. I felt defective. This was compounded by the financial strain I knew attending college would have on my family. It seemed wasteful to try to “find my passion” at school while squandering

I put on my bright orange life jacket and stood up. "You want me to go in and push the boat?" I asked my mom. "Yes." She responded. So I climbed out of the boat and into the water. The water was rushing dragging me away, so I grabbed onto the side of the boat and it was then that I realized this was a terribly stupid idea.... It was June fourth of 2016 and the day started out as any early normal day would. My family and I had been invited to go rafting, by my moms best friend Holly. So my mom agreed. She woke us up early so we would be there on time and when we had gotten there we met up with Holly. After that we boarded a bus with our cooler full of water and food. The bus ride was approximately fifteen to thirty minutes. Yes, I was

The pencil lead was wearing out fast, and I barely knew what to write down on my paper. The proctor announced, “5 minutes left! Make Sure you all check your work.” My hands began to sweat and my mind was completely silent. I could only hear the loud tick of the clock as the hands moved along every second and every minute. I scribbled down on my paper what ever came to my mind. It was a horror filled experience, and even after I finished the test, my lips were dry solid as if my saliva was completely cold and arid. I could see the dark days ahead of time as I rumored to myself, “This is one test, that I’m sure I failed.”

I stood up, slowly walking out the door and closing the door as I left. I went back later.

Day one of sixth grade, there I was excited yet nervous, very nervous. I had no idea what was instore, no one I knew previously was going to Jefferson with me. I was sitting in Mr. Bausch 's language arts class. For our first assignment we had to make a cereal box about our selves. Once we were finished we had to present in front of the class. Once my name was called I went up and stood in front of the class. My legs were shaking and my heart was pumping. I speed right through it and hurried back to my seat I was so proud of my self. Now in eighth grade, we had to present a motivation speech, I got up and confidently presented it to the class. I have changed a lot over a course of three years looking back I am absolutely amazed. I love

This was the first week of school and I completed this thesis quite hurriedly. I was NOT prepared for the amount of summer reading (AP History, English, and Sacraments), so I ended up spending most of the first week in a zombified state of sleepwalking from class to class. I was taken aback when I accidentally submitted two versions of the assignment to Poll EV and both were voted to the top of our class. I hadn’t much time for proofreading and I barely remembered what happened in the novel at that point due to the fact that I was going on about half an hour of sleep.

I walked over to where me, and Frank sat he was picking at some tape on the desk impatiently. "Hey." I sat down, he smiled, "Hey Gee!" Frank smiled, "Can 't wait for music!" He said excitedly, I chuckled. His favorite class was music, which we had after gym. I only have three classes with Frank, but I have all my classes with Ray. He can be a bitch, but he 's a bitch who 's my best friend.

November 20th: a lovely cool-weather-ed day, without much worry or fear in the air; the day after my sister, who had been living at college, celebrated her birthday with us at her workplace. Overall, it was a wonderful day. It was nearing the winter holidays, after a long-needed break during the beginning of eighth grade. I was staying after school, playing in the Middle School ‘Jazz Band’, having a great time. Everything ended, and I packed my instrument away. Overall, the band was able to learn, and practice, many new pieces for the upcoming concert. I couldn’t wait to go home, relax, and do homework for the next school day! My grandfather picked me up in his white van, and started towards my house, not too far away from the middle school. We were about halfway to my house, when I noticed a drawer on the sides of the road, which looked extremely similar to the one in my house. I didn’t think much of it. It was just a strange coincidence. My grandfather and I were approaching my house, and I noticed one of my indoor-cats, named ‘Rocket’, running around outside, on my front lawn, frantically. There must be something going on. My grandfather, driving his van, reached the top of my driveway. I rushed out of his van to notice my front door wide open, with its wooden frame smashed. Something had to happen, and it wasn’t good.

respected that because he valued my education. I was expected to graduate in May of 2014 and we planned to get married in March of 2014 right before my graduation. Things were going well until late February I stopped hearing from him for 10 days. I was worried, he hadn’t deployed or anything, but what if he got hurt. He ended up calling me two weeks before our wedding date to say that he was not the man I should marry and that he needed time to get to get himself together. I agreed respectfully and said that we could wait. The following weekend, I was informed that he married a women he had met 5 months prior. I was put in a state of depression and tried to commit suicide. I stopped attending class during midterms which is when I found out and my life turned upside down. A few days later, I realized graduation was less than two months away and that I had to pull myself together. I did and I graduated that May with a 3.2 GPA. When I think of this experience, I think about my ego. Freud would say that my ego wants to meet my needs in a way that is sensible and takes all aspects of the situation into account before taking action. When the peak of this situation arrived, my ego needed to meet my needs of being hurt. I took everything into account, so what I did was focus heavily on my studies so that my brain was the focus and not my heart. My ego told me that my degree was more important than a heartbreak at the time so I managed to redo all my midterms and even pass my

I had been eagerly been anticipating this day ever since . The sun was beaming. A nice breeze was flowing. It was a good summer day. There was something different though. The second I came home from the bus, I flopped onto my bed and my eyelids instantly slid. It felt as if I had just rolled up a ball of all my stress and kicked it aside. I had just finished a laborious grade 8 and an exceedingly stressful last week of final exams. I couldn’t help but succumb to after countless days of sleeping late due to studying and homework. Unfortunately, I woke up to my parents calling me to dinner. Little did I know that this was my call to adventure.

“WHAT ARE YOU KIDS DOING, YOU DO NOT GET UP AND TALK TO YOUR FRIENDS, ALL OF YOU KIDS

I was walking to school, like usually because I missed the bus again. My house was only four blocks away and it was a rainy day and a cold one too. When I finally made it to school everyone was already going to their classes .

My mom has kept everything in the house the way it was before. It has the same furniture and the same pictures on the wall. It’s minimal with a nice brown couch and a wooden coffee table across the fireplace. He had some pictures he bought years ago organized neatly in their own individual spaces. Everything is here except the empty coffee mugs, randomly opened books, his ashtray, and the classic music he loved to fill his home with.

It’s been two years, and yet if somebody asks me about that day, my voice will crack. By “that day,” I mean the day I came home from MacArthur Elementary School to find my Golden Retriever, Honey, splayed out on the asphalt near our driveway, her head bashed open, her body lifeless but still warm. It’s an image I can’t seem to shake, as much as I try.

"YOU STOLE 3 OF KATES DRESSES AND USED THEM TO GO TO A PARTY WITH UNDERAGE DRINKING AND COME HOME AT 2AM?!?!"