Moving Back To The Middle School: Personal Narrative

Before the first grade, we moved around a few times before ending up here in Sylvania. As a child, both my parents worked full time jobs and I was always at after school day cares or at my grandparents houses, never really got to spend a lot of time with friends or was able to socialize with many people. So growing up most of my time was spent with my brother and I thought nothing of it. As I grew up I began to realize that I had become stuck in some bad habits. My brother and I weren't asked to help around the house much but when we were we never listened. But to my surprise there were no consequences for our disobedience. At the time I thought I had it good. Around the time I got too middle school I began to realize the problem. I began

I was never the type of kid to standout in school especially not in the hallway. I was never too tall, never too short, not too scrawny, but the one thing I like to do is make people laugh. Yet even though that was very fun and all I still leave my legacy behind, which as weird, as this sounds, I was the one kid teachers never took seriously, but for the most part I never got that bad of a grade, in middle school(except when it came to 7th grade language arts class).

From my experience, surviving middle school takes a mixture of luck, naive fearlessness, and an aggressive number of colorful plastic binders. I started my first day of fifth grade a jumbled mess of nerves, anxious about making friends and doing well in class, and inexplicably dressed head-to-toe in red, white, and blue swag my mom got when the Summer Olympics were in Atlanta. I mean, my backpack matched my shoelaces, which matched my pants and my shirt. I might have even had a hat. A hat. A precisely matching hat. That I wore all day. Needless to say, I was not a particularly cool child. I studied hard, had a core group of equally nerdy friends, and constantly worried about whether I was doing the right thing or, perhaps more accurately, becoming the right thing. Was I not studying hard enough to get into college? Or maybe studying too hard, missing out on my youth? Would I grow into my teeth one day? Would my skin eventually stop looking like greasy peanut brittle?

As I went through 1-9 grade school I finally found grit. Going to St. Mary’s during 1-6 grade school getting up at 6:30 every morning just wanting to hit the snooze button so I could get that extra hour of sleep in. After getting ready for school, I would get on the bus, three stops later we would pick up these annoying foster kids that gave me a headache every day because they would shut their mouths that I would have to push through school with. Then building up all the energy sitting in 1-2 classrooms the whole day waiting for recess so I could let it all out. Since I pushed through those challenges, I was able to move on to middle school. During my two years of middle school three out of the five days of school, I would get up at 5:30 and

When I hear the word “survival”, I think of someone who has made it through the impossible or conquered a near death experience; but that isn't all that it means. According to the the Merriam Webster dictionary, “A survivor is a person who copes well with difficulties in their life.” Moving from elementary school to middle school taught me many new characteristics such as how to be more independent, responsible, and more open to changes.

“Jovanie, I’m going to have to let you go,” my coach said to me in a nonchalant voice. My stomach started twisting in a million knots and I felt my eyes watering, but I was not going to let them fall… yet. “Not here, not now” I reassured myself. I slowly walked off the bus trying to act unbothered, but I was. Everybody that knew me understood what track was to me. However, starting off in a different school as a freshman, where nobody knew me was hard. I had to prove to them that I was a good runner, but I have failed.

In Middle School, where we were still growing up as adults, we did not like following the rules. I was in 9th grade. That day the bell rang for our next class and me and my friends did not want to go to our next class right away. We waited outside the room for our next class and chilled and talked. Me and my friends were in class all day and we wanted to let go of some energy. We kept talking and if our teacher came, we would go into the class right away. Our school did not like students to hang out in the hallway because they made too much noise. We did not care, we still chilled outside the class. We talked about new shoes and what we were going to do after school. It was so much fun because I had not seen my friends since 8th grade and it was the

I walked into the loud building so scared and nervous. I couldn't believe today was the day. The day i'm finally in middle school. That day was the day that I could officially call myself a Vista Verde Middle School student. When I walked into the building the bell had rung for us to proceed to class. On my I spotted one of my very good friends, Esmeralda. After I said hi to her I walked to my first period class which is room 403 and my teacher is Ms. Blasnek.

There's ups and there's downs, twists and turns lessons to be learned. A lost young boy trying to get through day by in a world that seemed a little bit too unfair. In middle school i didn't understand, i had no care in the world i thought I was invincible, no worries, no problem. I took my reality and turned into a dream to deal with the nightmares that haunted me at night. I just needed a second chance, i needed an awakening. Looking back on it now i wish i never taken the chances i had and opportunities granted.

Middle school is kinda weird, especially if it's your first year. Your meeting new teachers, students so it will be awkward at first, but then you get to know everyone in your class. I was a different kid before I Entered middle school, I was really immature, quite short

For the most part, I have rarely experienced deindividuation, as I have never really done anything out of my character; however, there is one specific moment I can recall from middle school. If you had good grades at the time when your advisory teacher checked every monday, you were given a free pass to spend the rest of the weeks advisory periods playing games. I don’t think there was time when I didn’t have good grades, so I got to mess around every week during this time period. One day, my friends and I discovered one of the rooms wasn’t being watched by a teacher, so, of course, we started going to that room everyday. It didn’t take long for us to completely lose our normal morals around each other, due to the group anonymity and that we

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.

When I was growing up, I never expected to be made fun of. I didn’t know that being overweight was going to be a problem. I lacked the courage to defend myself from bullies who often teased me. They laughed and even made jokes about me because I was out of shape and quiet. Being different was a tough experience for me in middle school and in elementary school since I didn’t know how to defend myself and even less, ask for help. Kids wouldn’t come up to me and ask me to play with them.Instead, I spent most of the time alone.

Sweat saturated every crease and contour of my hands as I neared the front of the lunch line. Inch by solemn inch, I crept closer—anxiety overwhelming me. What will they think of me? Will they laugh at me? Before I could muse their possible perceptions, I found myself at the end of the line.

While growing up I only moved once from a quiet and tranquil apartment to a home near a train and friendly neighbors. The move wasn't that drastic due to me being young but I had to start school. School was very startling at first but as the days went on I became a bit more open. My family was a big help in that too because they talked to me about being myself and I shouldn't be shy when around strangers.