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

It was May 17th, 2011, it was a normal school day when my brother and I were told that my mom called to say that she was picking us up early. I was anxious, wondering why we were going home early and breaking our usual routine. When my mom came to get us, the first thing that I noticed was that she didn’t greet us with her usual smile. I was 9 years old, very observant, but not able to sense what was to come. We got into the car, when I asked my mom where we were going hoping

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.

Every time I go out on a stage I look at the small piece of paper in my music folder, one with hand written words that now hold so much meaning to me. I think all the way back to the first time I sang in front of an audience and of the complete and utter disaster that it was. However, I also think of how far I have come. It all started in fourth grade when my school had their annual school talent show. I had sang in the church choir with a group of around twenty other kids, but this was different. I had practiced my song multiple times over, and had asked my friend to play the piano while I sang. The day I walked into the school will never leave my memory. It was so tense you could taste the anticipation in the air. I walked in and sat in my seat where I memorized the student I would come up after. Time seemed to speed up impossibly fast, and the next moment I was being called onto the stage. The only sound I could hear was the pound of my heart, and my friend fuzzily asking in the background, “Do you want to go a cappella when I turn the pages?” I nodded agreeably because I did not want her to know I did not know what the word meant. Now I know it’s meaning is “without instrumental music” ("A Cappella."). Too soon, we were standing on the stage, and I had started to sing the song. I thought everything was going well until it came time for her to turn the page and she stopped playing. I waited patiently as she waited for me to sing. We were both waiting, and the only sound

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”.

When I first came to Florida, it was during the summer of 2009. We were so excited because my parents and kids just arrived from the Philippines and we were set for a 600 mile journey to the happiest place on earth. During the entire trip, apart from the joy brought about by the entire Disney characters, I truly fell in love with the place. It reminded me so much about home, which was 10,000 miles away. I dreaded leaving the place for a week, but I gloomily head back to Baltimore, a charming city but nothing short of Florida.

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.

When I was younger, I wasn’t sure which career I wanted to pursue after leaving school, but I was certain that it needed to be something that was hands on as my favourite subjects had always been the ones where I could use my hands, such as art, metalwork and woodwork. I remember one project I was particularly proud of was a square coffee table made from walnut that I built in my woodworking class, I was given a brief with the dimensions and left to design and build it myself.

I sat on my bed, casually waiting for my mom to hurry and take me to school. The air smelled like the fish market from across the street. Cars were honking outside and the babies from upstairs were screaming at the top of their lungs.

It does not matter how slow you go as long as you do not stop. -Confucius

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 there classes .

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.

Hurry ‘’wake up’’ my mom said with excited 4:00 of the morning then I said yawning why then she said we are going to St. Louis! So then I was jumped out of bed and screamed and might of have woken up my baby brother. So then my mom was SHHHHHHHHHHH, and I was like…... whoops! Then I asked are my cousin’s awake and she said what do you mean then I said that you said that they were going to come to if we were going so then she called them and said yes I was so happy I yelled again and now my little sister was asking what is wrong and my little brother was crying and I said whoops again! I could not wait for the big trip! We left at 5:30 we drove back and when we were going for 4 hours when we were going there my little sister fell asleep