On a Spring day in Oak Park, California a 10 year old girl stood at the front of her classroom, almost scared to death. This girl named Abigail was about to go on the roller coaster of emotions called middle school. "Hi. I'm Abigail" she said, her voice shaking. It's not always easy to be the new
You’re probably wondering who’s writing to you. Well, this is you: Abby (NOT Abigail) Wieland. I’m writing this when there are 3½ days left in sixth grade. I know that you are in your room, packing and repacking your school supplies. You’re also terrified for your first year of middle school. It’s not as bad as you think. Nothing really changes, except there’s different teachers for every class. Most of the time, you’ll love middle school. Just like every year, though, there will be times when you hate it. Just warning you.
Walking into Booth Middle School on the first day of seventh grade, all I wanted was a friend. I cared little about whether they would make an impact on my life; as a newcomer to Peachtree City, I was open to befriend anyone. Within the first week, I met Annabelle. I was so preoccupied with the excitement of having a new friend that I was unaware of how greatly she would impact not only my first day, first week, or first year of middle school, but how vastly she would affect my future.
My first day of the second grade, I knew no one except the teacher and my younger brother. Kindergarten and first grade had been easy enough, but I was scared of the upcoming year. The only thing I knew about being the new kid was that it hadn’t panned out too great for Addie from the American Girl books. Mrs. Henson’s class was fairly quiet throughout the day, for most kids were nervous or tired. We neared the end of the day and I was ecstatic over the fact that hadn’t made a complete fool of myself. I hadn’t met anyone yet, but I thought that that would be a challenge for another day. Unfortunately, that’s not what Mrs. Henson had in mind. She sent us all out to recess with a grin plastered on her face and with me practically kicking
There is not a lot that you can immediately learn from the story of Abigail. However, by reading her story in 1 Samuel 25, and of course with a little “reading between the lines” we can actually gather a lot of insight into who Abigail was, and about Abigail's character. Abigail was a women who was: spirited, courageous, intelligent, and extremely wise. While Abigail may be a lesser known biblical figure, her story gives us invaluable insight and teaches us invaluable lessons on hard times, courage, and beauty.
I have two younger sisters named Carolina and Abigail. Abigail is 9 years old and Carolina is 10 years old and like all siblings, they occasionally fight. Usually, for silly reasons such as: stealing food or toys, not helping each other clean or sleep, or because one hit the other one.
“We were headed outside but before I could get out of the classroom I got shoved into the closet. I...I never got to see the sun…..” She trailed off before bursting into tears. The teacher's eyes immediately filled with sympathy for Margo and a thought crossed her mind; however, she immediately dismissed it for it was completely bizarre. Then the thought of this poor girl who was bullied simply because she remembered something that other students couldn’t.
As the story goes, it was my first day as a freshman at Poplar Bluff High School. As I stepped off the bus to my new school, I found myself unfamiliar and nervous. My first instinct was to find my friends on such a wide campus, but, class would be starting soon so I wouldn’t have time. “Guess I will just get to my first class early”, I thought to myself while walking in the shivering, cold weather.
It is just like any other day for Cathy Hurley, principal of Wylie E. Groves High School. She sat at her desk, blindly clicking through several emails, her tortoise glasses resting lazily on the tip of her nose. The sun was hidden behind several thick, grey clouds; it looked like it would snow later. The thought of getting new tires for the upcoming weather briefly crossed her mind when there was a sudden knock at the door, making her jump. She briefly fixed her glasses and smoothed down her hair before calling “Come in!”
I have raised my voice for, and will continue to raise my voice for, people less fortunate than myself. More specifically however, I often stand up for and help my autistic older sister, Abby. Ever since I can remember, I have felt obligated to fulfill my duty as a "little-big brother", because she is older than me. Whether it be taking her to school, taking her to baseball games, or playing "Dogoply" with her, I have tried to imprint a positive attitude on her so that she can continue to grow into an even greater person than she already is. One time after a football game junior year, I was hanging out with my classmates when the topic of Abby came up. They all talked about how they were the best of friends with her and how they loved her. Sure, all of
When growing up, the world can either take a hold of you or you can take a hold of the world. In this story, we find out about a young Christian teenage girl who life was taking its course on her as she was growing up and she soon found out that she’s the only problem she’ll ever have in this world and she’s the only solution. Krystal Channing was a 15 year old freshman at Stanley High School, located in Fairfax, Virginia. She wasn’t the least of all saints but she did have a pure heart. High School is where life began for Krystal Channing; where life hit her so hard and so quick that the world had completely devoured her without her notice.
Two little girls with matching pink dresses, light up shoes, backpacks double their size skip off to the bus for their very first day of school. To a five year old, kindergarten was a big deal. The first time away from their parents, a new environment, and very intimidating older kids. I knew I was lucky, I got to take on this new experience with my built-in best friend and somehow, knowing that made all the difference.
As Trinity walked through the hall of South River Middle School, she realized some of the the trouble-some eighth graders were already causing a commotion. Middle school is a tough transition for everyone, especially at South River Middle school. Teenagers suffocated the halls, pushed those passing by, and shoved each other. There were bullies at any corner and someone was always lurking near to shout out an insult at their victim. All the kids there practically begged their parents to let them switch schools. Unfortunately, that was not an option. Just one of the many, Trinity Jones was a small ordinary girl in the seventh grade with long, jagged brown hair and watchful eyes. She was bashful, sweet, selfless, and obedient. She was an
I was about to face my greatest challenge in my new life. How to fit in with people in middle school. Arriving in America was already hard to adjust, what more can it be with my school life. It was in August when my school started. I was already nervous, and I haven’t even step foot from this mysterious school that I’m about to spend 2 years of my life.
Squeals pierce my eardrums as little girls talk about “loving” their boyfriends. The overbearing scent of Axe radiates off of every arrogant schoolboy who gallivants across the grounds and stops at my locker. Gossip flutters around me, seducing me into its inescapable vice. Such was Memorial Middle School when I first debuted in August, 2011. Going into sixth grade, I was the most popular girl in school. Although I may have had ebony hair and bubblegum lips, there was no hiding the ugliness of who I was: the meanest girl in school.
Middle school, when that word pops up in one’s head, it’s a sudden reminder of dreadfulness,broken promises,regrets,first crushes, and last but not least, learned lessons. Another morning had brought another school day. Seeing familiar faces and teachers I just wanted to get through the day with no trouble, but that’s not always the case. At least it wasn’t for me. Making my way through the extended halls and walls that seemed to enclose upon me, I felt nothing more than like a chained prisoner. The bell rung and I remained seated in my class, surrounded by boxed, outdated computers and rusty white walls, I felt helpless.