My name boomed over the intercom and the April sunshine did not warm me as I uneasily made my way to the front office. I had been enrolled in boarding school for eight months when I was told there was a new girl coming and was asked to help her through the first few frightening weeks. Being a “big sister” involved teaching her about what living at boarding school was like, along with just being her friend. This was an honor and immense responsibility, making me not only excited, but anxious as well. Despite repeated nerves, I was eager to find out about her life and rise to the occasion. Walking an apprehensive girl through the ropes of boarding school made me a stronger, more stable person because it offered me a new perspective, valuable support, and the fulfillment of becoming a giving friend. The next few weeks included a major lesson in a more expansive worldview.
In particular, people with different experiences can introduce me to a new perspective. The responsibility I attained gave me a more developed worldview that I had previously been sheltered from. In other words, my background consisted of people just like me and the lack of exposure limited my viewpoint. Hearing my friend’s story of her hard, lonely life in Los Angeles with her detached family opened my eyes to the reality of mankind. It is easy to judge evil from far away, but when we are exposed to the hurt and pain that causes the corrupt behavior, empathy comes rushing in. Her experiences were something I
As a child grows, extra care and attention is very essential in order to build the foundation of love and a strong bond. Especially, in today’s society,children are often judged by the act of their parents but in this memoir, written by Miss Jeannette Walls shows how unstainable and dysfunctional relationship Jeannette had with her parents but she still managed to use her tough upbringing for confidence and resourcefulness.
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
The Hockaday college is an unbiased, secular, university preparatory day and boarding faculty for girls located in Dallas, Texas, united states. The boarding college is for ladies in grades eight–12 and the day college is from pre-kindergarten to grade 12. The school turned into based in 1913 by using Ela Hockaday in reaction to the parental demand for a preparatory day school for girls. She added a junior college in 1931 which operated till 1951. The first class consisted of most effective ten college students. Sarah Trent becomes one of the first teachers at the faculty and was influential in its
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.
In Louise Erdrich’s Famous work of poetry, “Indian Boarding School: The Runaways”, shows how the context of the work and the author play major roles in understanding the poem from different aspects and angles to see between the lines of what we really call life. The Author Louise Erdrich is known for being one of the most significant writers of the second wave of the Native American Renaissance. She is a member of the Turtle Mountain Band of Chippewa Indians and her writing on Native American literature is seen throughout the world. Through word decision, repetition, and symbolism bringing out her incredibly fierce tones, the author recalls the hurt and enduring impacts of Native American children being forced to attend Indian boarding schools. These schools emerged of a post-Civil War America in an effort to educate and also “civilize” the American Indian people.
The first year, the time to prove myself had arrived. Classes, rooms, teachers, and some students were unfamiliar. Eventually, minutes melted into hours, hours to days, and days to weeks. It didn’t take long before my schedule was routine, something of second nature. Humor and happiness were found in the form of my advisory family, where school was transformed into something more than going through the same motions of day to day activity. By the closing point of sixth grade, I was having a hard time letting go of what I’d adapted to. “What’s wrong?” my dad asked when I was getting into the car after being picked up early on the last day. I explained how distressed I was that my first year of middle school exceeded my expectations, and that it had to come to an end. Although his outlook viewed my reason for sorrow as trivial, I didn’t.
knowledge through my experience and helping less fortunate made me a better person. It changes my perception on how and why I see the world and the people around me. I become a well-rounded person, it opened my hearts to understand and taught me a better way to connect with people.
These experiences were not confined to the late 19th and early 20th centuries but reach well into the present. Nor has the theme of such occurrences changed much over the years. Each of these boarding schools and its students possessed unique qualities that were shaped by a multitude of conditions, including the cultures of the tribes represented, the location, the era, and the schools' directors. Yet each of these institutions also symbolized an education that removed the students from their homes, their families, and their indigenous communities. The curriculum and the physical work associated with the schools form one of the commonalities shared between schools regardless of the time period. Another trait among the schools is the students'
During the late 1870s, the construction of boarding schools for American Indians began. The purpose of these schools was to introduce the American Indians the skills necessary to function in the American society. In other words, the white American society forced the Indians to assimilate into the white culture and strip them of their Native American traditions. There has been a lot of controversy about whether or not the assimilation of the American Indians was to benefit them, or to get rid of the ethnicities the society disliked. So many people say it was imperative because that was a way to help Indians survive in the American society. However, other people object to this belief because they consider it racism. So what was the easiest way
It was the year 2008, I had just graduated from St. Michael’s School located in Los Angeles, CA. This year was quite exhilarating for me also scary because I was going to attend an all-girls high school. Los Angeles was my birth place also a place where I called home. One day, I came home to hearing my parents talking about moving to Mississippi. I remained devastated, not only we were moving to the south, I’m moving away from childhood friends. I was worried I wouldn’t see them again and I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to make new friends in Mississippi.
It was soon the end of August which meant school was right around the corner. I wasn’t too excited, but I was a little anxious to see what God had in store for me. We hopped in the car, and were on the way. I walked into my new school, Country Day, and acknowledged the wind carried the sound of the chitter-chatter of my fellow classmates, lockers slamming as hard as nails and the howling of the spider-monkey. The halls were outdoor and you could see the never ending mountains and feel the gentle breeze swaying back and forth. I enjoyed the first day and couldn’t wait to go back for more. Throughout the day, I met someone special, someone who would soon to be my best friend, partner in crime, my other half, Sibley. She helped me see the good in situations and inspired me to be outgoing and carefree. Our families became best friends and went on adventure after adventure together. The year
Through these experiences, my moral compass shifted from one that lacked empathy to one where I could find appreciation for others, which birthed inside me a strong desire to help those in need. Now, as a senior, I am able to observe how my judgments can be used for something beneficial, rather something
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
The first month of transitioning from a home to a school environment can be a monumental change for any child. It is a circumstance that is both scary and exciting for most. The short story, “Charles” by Shirley Jackson, occurred during the 1950’s, at a young boy’s home and in his new kindergarten class. Laurie is a young, impressionable student who was attending his first year of school. Students in school need to feel special, protected, and receive attention from the teacher, but Laurie’s teacher did not seem to give him the reassurance he needed. At home, Laurie’s infant sibling was getting all the attention. While at school, Laurie did not adjust well in his new kindergarten class. This proved to be the cause of his new search for identity.
At five years old, leaving behind my parents and my whole life back in America was quite a scary experience for me. My mom later told me that as she dropped me off at school, I stood at the school gate, I looked emotionally bewildered as I waved goodbye. I was led away from the gate by my Didi, the caretaker of me and five other girls in one dorm room. Being shy at the time, I let my Didi introduce me to the other girls in the room. Most of the girls knew few words in English, but they all spoke Gujarati, which was foreign to me. I did not want to be the “new girl” that no one talked to because I was different than everyone else. I soon learned that the girls in my room were also feeling the same way I felt about entering a boarding school. I learned that they were