Graduation Speech - Original Writing

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

Hi, I’m Alexandria and I’m in the 11th grade, or a Junior in highschool. I usually love learning but this year I don’t have very good teachers so I haven’t been trying very hard in my classes; obviously I want good grades but nothing is interesting so I get distracted very easily and miss what the teacher says.

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

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

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.

I dreaded to go home. I couldn’t stand the sound of my parents voices arguing. It just didn’t seem right. The two people that I have known my whole life fighting. It just didn’t seem normal. All of these thoughts were rushing through my head just as the noisy school bus pulled up to my stop.

As I grew up I constantly spelled out my brother’s name backwards, instead of CHRIS I spelled it SIRHC or I would say things such as, “noodles spaghetti”. I assumed it was standard for kids my age. A few years later, during my first few years in school, my teacher explained to my mom that there was a high possibility that I was dyslexic. Due to this, that same teacher moved me into a slower class; a class intended for intellectually disabled students. Although the students in the classroom were lovely, I was furious that I was branded as “incompetent” or “sluggish”. After a few hours of analyzing this unexpected change, I panicked and decided that I needed to construct a plan that would get me back into the “regular” classroom. As soon as I got home that day I sat at the dinner table and read book after book. I read everything from my school books to cereal labels; I was determined to be placed back into the “regular” classroom. It took a few months, but after studying hours and hours with my helpful and optimistic mother I was placed back into the “regular class”.

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 still remember coming home from school when I was six years old saying, “Mommy, I’m so happy that now boys and girls are equal.” We had just learned about how things used to be and I was happy we had come so far. But I remember being eight and getting in trouble for yelling at a boy in my class. It didn’t matter that he had called me stupid, all my teacher said was “Boys will be boys, but good girls don’t fight back.” And then at ten years old I remember walking around with my family, hearing words I had never heard before screamed out of cars at me, not knowing what they meant, but knowing that whatever they meant wasn’t right. I remember my mother telling me I couldn’t wear that dress anymore, because she didn’t want people

It 's the minute details that are vital: the small things are what make big things happen. There are certain flashbacks of one’s childhood that stay forever in one’s mind. There is one day in particular that is still fresh in my mind. It was the fall of third grade, and I forgot to pray Shacharit that morning. My evident passion for Tefillah began at a young age. As the realization dawned on me, tears were suddenly streaming down my face. This had never occurred to me before, and I felt nervous. I had realized the power of Tefillah in first grade and I was motivated to pray out loud every single day even on non-school days. How could I forget to pray to G-d that morning? With lips quivering, I immediately wondered if G-d would punish me. My mother, one of my prime role models explained to me that it is okay to error and that it is never too late to pray. The one time I forgot to pray to G-d was a critical juncture for me during my childhood. As a result of this occurrence, I realized over time that mistakes do happen and that one can move forward after. That day was one of the roots of determination that emerged over the years. This one seemingly small and insignificant event impacted my life and will continue to be a precedent for further goals and choices.

Something I have never imagined. I felt as someone has taken half of my heart, I was feeling lonely. I could not explain what was I am feeling or what I was thinking about. The only thing I was asking myself why was happening to me. I felt as if I took her for granted. The love I had for her was enormous but I did not show her enough of it. She gave me love and a good friendship. I was not ready to let go, of someone who has been here since I was born. For my heart still, aches with sadness. She not only became the most important person in my life. I could not cover up my pain I still hoped, when my eyes open, she will embrace me with her love, but memories of her will always stay. Having trouble accepting the fact she was gone, I am afraid of entering her room and seeing her lay there knowing those eyes of hers will never open again. She was a wonderful person, she was the sunshine of my day. The person who made me believe the world had multiple opportunities. Her astonishing smile could bring a bad day to a good day. We believe the special person would stay with you forever and noticing the person you most loved and appreciated is gone in a blink of an eye. The memories and the great time I spent with my grandmother could not be changed for anything. The love can not be replaced or can not be forgotten.

I don’t feel like getting out bed this morning. I’m here what more do you want. The only reason I’m getting up this morning is because breakfast starts in a few minutes. They have someone to make us our meals. Thank God. I would not be in the mood to cook my meals. When I get into the dining room everyone stares at me. They’re acting like I’m the new kid or something. Oh wait I am. There is only about seven or eight people here not including me. I guess that’s good. It means there are less people I have to talk to. I really don’t want to have this group session later. I plan on not saying anything the whole time if that’s possible.

In the back seat, intently listening to the words coming through the speakers, what is this I hear? Something so soulful, full of emotion, and life, it 's as if I entered into another dimension, floating on a cloud of serenity. This feeling abruptly ended with a goodbye kiss as I prepare to enter the school building. I was enjoying my early morning schedule, learning about simple mathematics, how to get along with my peers, playing at recess, but I couldn 't wait to get lost again, leave the earthly realm with this wonderful sound of instruments and voices, ever so quietly coming through my mother’s car speakers. The final bell rings, my heart throbs with joy, I get to ride home.

The Bentley pulled up outside of the school and garnered quite a bit of attention as you and Jennifer stepped out. Most of the school was watching as two extremely pale kids walked through the school. You separated from Jennifer as she had found her classroom. You then went and found your own classroom. The teacher in your homeroom instantly recognized as Miss Kazate, head of science. She kept you at the front and waited for the rest of the class to arrive.

(Francisco gets ready for school looking as if he still isn 't awake. After he walks downstairs to Mrs. Mendoza cooking breakfast)