My Experience In High School

I recall the beginning of my freshman year when I was thrown into the chaotic and hectic mess that is high school. Not only was I given a much harder course load than ever before, but I also started the year off with volleyball. This made my life so incredibly difficult. As if getting home from a game at 10 o’clock was not enough, I typically still had about an hour of homework to complete due to my honors classes. That season felt longer than a giraffes neck . From the long nights of homework, to the complete mental breakdowns, Freshman year was one of the worst experiences of my life.

I would like to pretend that the bridge between elementary school and high school did not exist for me—that junior high just did not happen. I was a seemingly thoughtless kid, determined to make it out of school entirely and live in my own world where nobody could tell me what to do. I was awkward, irrational, and rebellious, three qualities I cannot thank my parents enough for dealing with. But the experiences and people I encountered in my junior high years almost made that whole chapter of my life worth reliving. I went through a lot in junior high, and have many memories of ridiculous instances that make it easy to make fun of myself.

It all started in middle school I got suspended a lot of times for arguing with my teachers. I would argue with my teacher about the smallest things such as talking while they were talking. It made me feel like they never understood why I talked all the time. I always tried to solve problems and most teachers didn’t agree. One time I disrespected my teacher and as a result I got sent to the principal’s office. Walking to the principal office I thought about how close my principal and I were. The walked seemed extra long because I would look back to see the small narrow hallway behind me. My principal understood me and always listened to what I had to say. Even though we were close I never wanted to face the consequences he gave me.

Until the summer of my sophomore year, I was unquestionably shy. I was the kid whose raised hand lifted four inches off the table and who slouched over her sketches of strangers. That summer, I was forced to change.

In my senior year of high school I took a ceramics class. One day the teacher invited a professional potter who taught us a convenient way of making pottery. This experience was significant, because it taught me something I never expected to gain from high school which was to broaden my horizons, and approach different subjects with an open mind. I ended up making many pieces at home using that technique.

n the second grade, after a fun weekend of watching football, I decided to go to my parents if I could start playing football. They decided to get me to play soccer first and see if I enjoyed that, and being the stubborn little kid that I was. So after a year of soccer, my parents asked if I liked it and I told them no. That fall I signed up for the Little Devils, a little league football team. My football career started out great. I was a starter for my first four years at the Little Devils. Quarterback which was my favorite position to play. In my last year as a starter, my team went undefeated and won the championship with me at quarterback. The next season everyone had grown a lot more than I did. I was very short and the head coach decided to not let me start at quarterback and instead moved our running back at quarterback. The next year was my 8th-grade year I started the first game, but I struggled and eventually lost the job. I also broke my left arm ending my little league career.

When I first attended Park fall of last year I was vastly unprepared for college, so when I entered as a nursing major I quickly realized two things. 1) I had no clue how to study 2) I’m not very good at anatomy.

Right now I am a freshman taking both honors Biology and English. I have actually never thought about not taking honors classes before I was even in high school. I guess it has always been assumed that I would be taking honors classes and harder classes. It’s something that my parents have talked to me and my sibling about when we were little so that it could be a goal for us. The high school is different, but in a good way. We have longer passing periods, longer classes (so you can finish more work) and more opportunities such as clubs, more sports, and different classes.

Experiencing High school is where it all began for me. Of course my middles school teachers tried to make us all feel as if high school was going to be hard and a bit scarey, but it wasn’t until I was ending tenth grade and the beginning eleventh grade when i started feeling that way. I had an idea of what my future wanted to look like but didn’t know how or if I could get there, until I took a class called PFM (Personal Financial Management). My experience taking PFM taught me why i needed to get serious about what today millennials call “adulting”.

The day I left home for the first time to start Junior High was a bright day, brimming with hope and optimism. I’d always done well at school, so expectations for me were high, and I had gleefully set foot into a new chapter of student life, relationships and experiences. Now appearances, of course, can be deceptive, and to an extent, this spirited and energetic persona of mine had only been a veneer, although a very convincing one. The truth is underneath of it all, I was deeply unhappy, insecure and fundamentally frightened-- frightened of other people, of the future, of failure, and of the emptiness that I felt was within me. Despite all of this, I was very skilled at hiding it, and from the outside I appeared to be someone with everything to hope for and aspire to. This fantasy of invulnerability was so complete that I had even deceived myself, and by the end of the first year, no one could’ve predicted what was about to happen.

I watch from the beige colored sidewalk as my Ma pulls away in the Nissan Pathfinder that we dubbed as the ‘Blue Shoe.’ I turn and look up at the newly built building. There it stands in its newly built glory, the sun is rising behind the building and it seems to cast a halo effect on it. Little did I know it would be like Hell more than Heaven. It was my first year of going to a public school, I was a 6th grader this year, as I had been doing my schooling at home. With this came the ability to be a grade ahead because Ma said that I was to busy when I was younger.

Maybe it was the thought of what people felt about me, or the way I felt their glare on my back as I walked past a group of people. It could also have been the way that people stopped talking as I got closer to them and all that gave them away was the accusatory look in their eyes. The tables had turned suddenly letting me with no choice but to experience the way that other half lived. Living as a socially awkward student was difficult, but living amidst all the flying rumors was close to impossible. That fall was a life lesson that made me appreciate the friends I had and humbling me to see past the materialism that existed in the school to the vanity of it all.

In the late months of the two-thousand and fourteen first semester, I had begun my dangerous excursion into a precarious realm of stress and irritation to a juvenile network of literacy and instruction. I was beginning my first year of high school, which was still a new territory for me. I had previously attended at Howe middle school, but I was not prepared for high school. At my high school, the building is different than any other building on the campus. The high school building is on one continuous slab of the concrete foundation, but there is a gap in between the two halves of the building. In this gap, there is a connecting concrete flooring that is level with the two previous halves’ floors. The Howe students, faculty and I called this structure the “breezeway.” During a hot school day, the wind tunneled through the breezeway and brush across me like an ocean of cool air. Of all the memories in the breezeway at my high school, I can remember one moment where I saw something that changed my outlook on what I wanted to become.

“Sorry, I can’t. I have homework.” That was the constant excuse I used in high school when my friends asked if I wanted to hang out. Junior year of high school was a rough year for me--not only was I taking six AP classes in one year, but I was also in the marching band which dominated a lot of my time. I was so invested in all of these that I forgot how to even socialize. I would negate a lot of my friends and family who wanted to gather and just spend some time with me. Now, don’t get me wrong, this does not mean that I was a loser by any means, I loved to “hang” and party and all the typical teenager tropes. It was just that year. That one year that I screwed myself over with a crap ton of demanding classes. That one year I wish I could do all over again. That one year that would have been enormously simpler had I been amicable enough to accept other people into my life. Which leads to the situation that most strongly defines what my dilemma during my junior year: I should have gone to the movies instead.

At first I thought high school was going to be a breeze, but was not a breeze at all. The classes seem very hard for me. I tried my very best even though I thought it was hard. I gave my freshman classes my all but still getting ok grades I wanted an A on my class work but I was not getting those grades. I felt like a big failure. So I started not to care I gave up really gave up. I started not doing my work and stop participating in class. I was skipping class not giving a care in the world. I kept getting into trouble. Always in the dens office and that was just my freshman year. My report card was really unacceptable I would cry when I see my grades but I know It’s because I would skip class and not do my work. Summer was coming up school is getting to an end and I got my report cards again and I see my GPA was so horrible and my guidance consul Mr. Martin called me down to his office to talk to me about my grades and that I’m starting freshman year all over again . He was telling me to get on track, it’s not the end of the world that I can still do it if I focused on my work. So I told my guidance consul Mr. Martin I would do my best.