My Childhood Speech

As parents bring children in the classroom, they sign in each sign-in sheet that contains information about the child on the day; how the child is doing, how the child slept, and how the child ate. If there is a concern about the child, there are teachers available to talk to. Teachers greet pleasantly as parents and children arrive. Some children starts playing with toys as soon as they arrive, but some start crying. Teachers hold these children and help them to say “bye” to their parents.

After a short ten-minute walk home from school, when I finally arrived at my house, I flopped onto the couch. It was a Friday afternoon, and I was ready for the football game that night, and for the weekend to begin. My mom was sitting on the couch across from me and asked me how my day at school was. I described to her what had happened that day, and the stuff we did in my classes. As we get done talking about school, she inquired

I remember the first day I walked into my kindergarten class, I clenched my mother’s hand with all my might to prevent her from letting go. The kids around me, whom I supposed were my classmates, had long let go of their mother’s had and were playing together, and even as a five year old, at that point I felt like an outsider. I pleaded my mom to not leave but my attempts failed as I found myself alone yet surrounded by complete strangers. As I stood in the center of the room while pushing back my tears and eyeing my mother make her way out the door, I heard the teacher call my name. I timidly walked towards the spot on the yellow carpet she was signaling at for me to sit on. I heard Mrs. Ross’s soothing voice but no matter how much I concentrated

I have never taken a public speaking course before getting into college, finding myself too stressed to calm down in the class of CC-100-11. I experienced the most anxious moment before I did my Grab Bag speech. Though I was so nervous, I finally finished it with all my efforts. In general, I feel that my Grab Bag speech is good enough for me as the first challenge, despite of the lack of experience in preparation, missing parts of the outline and the overwhelming anxiety. Therefore, I also give myself some advice and set an aim to achieve.

Middle school was a hard time for me, and like I said I wasn't the best at making friends. But then going to high school everything felt different. And then one day this song came on, it told the story of a lost boy, who was sad and alone, then he was taken to this beautiful place of fairytales. In this place, he found a home, and a family. He found a place that he felt he truly belonged, and then suddenly it I realized I was crying. The salty tears dripped down into my mouth as I wondered why? Then I realized, yes I have the most amazing family, but it doesn't mean that everything is perfect. At school I was always an outcast, until now. You see, that's why I was crying. Not because I was sad, but rather because I was so relived. Finally I found people that make me feel like I belong, I found an environment where my peers didn't frighten me, and where I knew I could thrive as a person. And I knew in the moment, I was no longer

The parents were fed up with our wild animal like behavior and told us to play downstairs in the basement. We all went down the basement and started to playing tag. Therefore, we had to be careful playing because the basement was not finished at the time and had metal studs where the walls are supposed to go and the concrete floors that are now hardwood. When everybody went upstairs because they were as tired as an olympic runner after a meet my Dad came down to fix a light bulb. He used a ladder to fix it so he could reach and when he was done he went upstairs so I was the only one in the basement. I wanted to be like my Dad so I decided to climb the ladder. I was at the top when my foot slipped off the ladder. Somehow I was able to turn my body around and grab onto a pipe to stop myself from falling. I felt the pipe starting to brake so I decided to swing on to the metal stud next to me because I was sure that was going to hold me. When my

Children will come from a diverse range of backgrounds including family environments, cultures and circumstances. A child is at school from a very young age to late teens and during this time many families will go through significant changes, such as: divorce, new sibling, losing a parent/grandparent, illness, moving house or school or even moving country – sometimes however schools may not always be aware of these changes. Any one of these happenings may affect their emotional and or

I clearly remember the night before your first day of kindergarten. After we had packed your snacks and lunch, laid out your outfit and tucked you like a mummy into bed, Dad and I sat on our bed talking about the school years to come. We were excited for you, of course, but I was also emotional. I started crying, telling Dad that I was afraid to let you go out into the big world by yourself, afraid that people – kids – might be mean to you and I wouldn’t be there to protect you. Dad, in his usual way, reassured

I was dropped off at the school and I shook with excitement. “Good luck and do your best!” my mother shouted in her usual high and happy voice as she sped off in our small Honda. I walked into the school gym and

I went through elementary and middle school, and high school finally came along. Towards the end of ninth grade, there was an honor roll assembly. I received a few awards and was so excited to get home and show my mom. As soon as I got home, I went straight to my mom and tried to talk to her about it, but she stopped me and said, “ Winsly, I have something to tell you.”

The first story of my life was written by my mom. The early years after I was born on September 28, 2002 were fairly eventful. As a young child, I was “never needy and always good at sharing.” Whenever I was in a situation where something was being handed out at a party or in class, I would always wait until last to select. If nothing was left, I would still be content. If something was ever taken from me, I would look at my mother and say ‘Oh well!’ and continue. When I was three years old, having brunch with my mom and dad at Cindi’s Deli, I picked up a kid’s menu and started reading it on my own with no phonetics involved. I “just started reading.” This amazed my parents. This was followed by teaching my classmates how to solve exponents

My life has been filled with motherly anecdotes like that one and they are why I write. Looking back at the times she told her stories (when my sadness didn’t blur out my sense of curiosity) I remember wishing I had every detail, image, and piece of advice to keep for myself. Sadly, all she had were her present, and somewhat obscured, opinions. One night, a final sob breaking past my lips, I decided to jot down a story to tell my kids. I made it my mission to write down my raw opinions and emotions from elementary, middle, and high school to help my children cope with common issues while getting a sense of my life.

7th grade was the year I woke up. My mom called me into her bedroom late one afternoon and was still sitting on her bed, wearing her pajamas. The bright and cheerful sunshine that lit up the room gave a false ambiance of the tension that clouded the air. I already knew what she was going to say, but I did not want to believe it as the truth. I had noticed that my mom and dad's relationship with one another was growing apart just by the way they acted around each other. The conversations between them became shorter and their affection for one another began to fade. My dad spent his nights falling asleep watching TV on the couch, while my mom slowly disappeared back into her bedroom, alone. This had been happening for a while now, so I do not know why I was even surprised when my mom said to me that, “Your dad and I are getting a divorce”. I should have seen it coming. The clues were all in front of me, but I was too afraid to put them together. I was scared because, for the first time in my life, the image of my "perfect" family was crumbling before me. I knew inside that my family was falling apart, but I was desperately holding onto the fibers that I thought were keeping us together. It is hard to believe that one encounter can change the course of one's life forever. In this instance, I was awoken from the dream that I had been living in for so long.

As far as I can remember my mother has always been supportive. I had a hard time adjusting to going to school. I can remember when I went to Head Start my mother would get me dress and have a pep talk with me about going to school and what I would learn. The van would blow the horn and the tears would begin to fall. I did not want to go to school she would have to pick me up and put me on the van. She would be there after school waiting on me to find out what I learned. “School engagement has long been seen as an important component of school completion (Estell , 2013)”.

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