Graduation Speech - Original Writing Essay

Growing up may not always be easy but you learn a lot about yourself through the journey. In my first year of elementary school, one of my friends was getting bullied by a boy. He would push her down after recess and make her feel really bad about herself. It got to the point where he would do it every single day and I got sick of it. I had to step in and stand up for her, so I ended up yelling at him for being mean to her. I never gave up for her. He was surprised that I stood up for her because no one else did. I never realized why he was being mean to her until I got older because he was white and she was black. He was being mean to her because of her race and gender. (November 13).

“You too Sarah. Now hurry, you don’t want Mr. Voksinkov giving you detention,” she warned, reminding me of the horrors of my french teacher. But as I rushed to reach the door, is slammed in my face. Preventing me from entering.

It was the first day of second grade, I walked into my classroom, and I heard someone calling my name. It was the Bully (Stephanie). I didn't know that, or even what being "a bully" was. And of course, me being the social butterfly that I am, I went to go talk with her. She started laughing and calling me stupid. Also, the teacher was busy with another student, so she didn't see any of this happening. When the teacher was done helping the student, I told her what happened and she said that she would

As my mom pulled up to the doors of Monroe Road Elementary, running to go find out who my 4th grade teacher would be, reading it, seeing your name, knowing everyone did not like you was a very mixed emotion day. I went back to the car to tell my mom I had Mr. Neuendorff. She did not know all of the things said about you from other kids and parents. I began to tell her all of the bad things and that other parents would not let their kids have him as their kids teacher. She did not care so neither did I.

I went into to Mrs. Wohlenberg’s class, very nonchalant and irritated. She was awful at teaching, which was her only job, and she choose favorites. All of her favorites were the popular kids, therefore I never had a chance. She literally bought them nachos,

It was the first day and I already knew it was going to be a long year. As soon I arrived to this school, I was sent up to what was the class room. All the other kids were outside and playing on the playground. After recess was lunch. I didn’t know anyone at this school so I picked an empty table and sat by myself. This kid named Andrew began to sit by me and talk to me at lunch. He insisted "why don’t you sit at our table instead of sitting by yourself?" I responded "ok" and I sat at his table

Just yesterday I walked through the gym doors of LC with my mom to meet my classmates for my first day of Kindergarten. I had no idea how it would feel, or what great memories would be made in those hallways that I would never forget. As I walked into my classroom, I met my teacher, Mrs. Goecker. She had very little tolerance for me when I refused help from a classmate one morning during spelling and vocab. This resulted in her sending me to the principal 's office. That was a very scary experience for me because I had never gotten in trouble at school before. Thankfully the principal was very understanding and walked me right back to my classroom.

It started off as a regular Friday. I woke up feeling relieved that I didn’t have classes that day, as I needed a break from school. Instead of rushing to get dressed, I chose to sleep in for a while. When I woke up again, it was already past noon and my roommate was gone. As I slowly crept out of bed, I realized that I was smiling. I wasn’t stressed out like I usually was, and that was because I never had classes on Fridays. It upsets me when I think about how excited I was to leave home and be independent. It never occurred to me that college would be hard. There would be no one here to hold my hand or force me to do any work. So I made my way to the bathroom and took a shower. After I had gotten dressed, I went to Shaw and had a nice lunch. Nothing special, just two slices of pizza and a salad. When I had finally finished eating, I decided to go for a walk.

When second period finally ended I was starving, I rushed out of the classroom and straight into the cafeteria. It was full of hungry teenagers, I slowly push myself through the crowd, to buy my lunch. Unlike most schools, this school seems to have a decent menu. I went to the counter and ordered myself a plate of spaghetti and coke. After I paid for my lunch I looked around the cafeteria for an empty seat.

Upon arrival on campus, I had no time to spare as I pulled into the student parking lot. I got out of my car and went straight to class. I took a seat, making sure I kept my dress down enough. I watched as Mason came into class and he sat next to me.

I woke up that morning giddy bursting with excitement. I thought college was this scary monster where no teachers cared to learn your name and you were by yourself, but our first assignment was going on a nature walk, it was like elementary again. As I went to leave I was scared that our class wouldn’t be able to go because it was sprinkling outside and looked like it was going to get worse, despite that I kept my hopes high.

Ever since I was a little girl my grades have been phenomenal. They used to take me into the principles office because they would swear that I would cheat on almost all my assignments and test. I will never forget the biggest struggle that I had to go through in primary school and that was when I skipped a grade.

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

“We have done everything we can, all that is left is to hope for the best” the intensivist said in a crackly voice. I felt powerless and distraught. It was the summer of 2015, just before my medical school final, thesis and graduation. My grandmother was her joyful self a few weeks ago, how was this possible? She always had a distrust and fear of doctors, the only person she opened up to with medical issues was me, her only grandchild. She had not seen a doctor in many years and never undertook any screening tests. Few months prior she began having low-grade fevers and constipation, this alarmed me, so I pleaded with her to see a physician. No luck. Her symptoms became worse; she was getting weaker each passing day. I could not sit and watch my beloved grandmother suffer.