My Experience In High School

It was May 25, 2018 at 7:47 in a steaming hot gymnasium when the name Anthony Joseph Sansalone was getting called from the loud speaker, the sixth to last person to receive their diploma I begun shaking the hands of all the board members and everything that I had known from the last 13 years at the same school was over and a new chapter of my life was stating to begin. A few seconds after receiving my diploma the Class President guided us to changing of our tassels from right to left then commencement was over and I was walking out with my future roommate at BGSU, Vincent Zhang, we looked at each other knowing that our high school career was descending and our college careers were lifting off together. High school was tuff for me due to the fact that I have know what I wanted to do since I was a freshman, I want to become an animator and work for an Academy Award winning company such as

It was freshman year in high school, and I was ecstatic about the fact that I can officially refer to myself as a high school student. However, not everything was perfect, nor filled with sunshine and rainbows. It was just two weeks into the school year when I faced my first arduous obstacle.

I remember the first day I started high school I was so nervous. As a kid I always remember I would had an anxiety problem for almost every little thing. I wake ever morning nauseated, even though there was nothing to worry about because I mean after all it was just school. I remember thinking damn I just got out of middle school here goes another 4 long school years. But what I didn’t know was that those years would go by so fast. After all like everyone says, a lot happens in 4years. On my first day everything was amazing. I had made new friends, so far I liked all my teachers, and I got into this Culinary Arts class that I didn’t even know I liked. I learned so much in Culinary, Everyday I would go in excited to see what I would learn the next.it amazed me so much I even started to help my mom cook, I learned so much in so little so that’s when I discovered I had a passion for learning how to cook and for food. I can honestly say I’m so glad I got into that class because now I know how to cook a little bit of Italian thanks to my culinary class and to wonderful godfather who is an excellent chef in New York City. I learn a lot from my mother who I’m forever thankful I just don’t tell her as much. Thanks to her I learn how to cook almost all kind of Mexican food, I learn how to be a little more responsible, I got into finishing my Diploma.

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.

To the County High School Class of 2012: As you sit in front of me, I know what most of you are thinking at the moment. There are those who are already pondering about what life without high school will be like; those who are debating whether or not to tell your crush tonight about your whispers of adoration you’ve secretly held for four years; some simply want to get out of that ungodly chair, get that thing that isn’t really a diploma but only tells you when to pick up the thing, and then be the first one on the green bus to the grad party — you know who you are. And the rest, well, the rest aren’t even paying attention, you’re thinking, “Great, here comes one of the valedictorian speakers. Next up: a boring speech straight out of the

Today was the day June, the fourteenth graduation day I got up with butterflies in my stomach. It started at two o'clock, but the students had to be there by twelve to make sure we all came on time. I was so nervous to go to graduation because I got a call less than 24 hours ago about a speech I wasn't prepared for. My mom could see the nervous look in my face and told me “ you're going to do great don’t worry, we're all proud of you.” After my pep talk, it was time for me to start getting ready. My cousin curled my hair and my

On a chilly, fall day, I ran out of my high school so that I could reach my car quickly and avoid the after-school traffic, as it was essential that I hurry so that I could arrive at work on time. Being that this day was only my fourth day, I desperately wanted to be on time. Before me stood a tall building, a nursing home, Epworth Manor. Since working there, I had built close relationships with the residents, and as an activities aide, my job was to brighten their days. This job was so important to me, for I felt as though I was honestly making a difference in the lives of the elderly, despite the significant age difference between us.

12:00 a.m., I am wide awake. I keep forcing my eyes to rest yet they pry open. My body is overloaded with joy and excitement. 7 p.m. seemed nearly impossible to arrive. The time has come and I have crossed the finish line. " I present to you the graduating class of 2017". The tears began to fall and my mind instantly began to replay the restless nights and early mornings. I have now received my high school diploma and a new has begun.

At the beginning of semester, I was not sure if the course was going to be enjoyable. There were some classes where I thought I had already learned some of the lectures in High School. I asked myself many times, “Why is this course required?” However, as the semester went by, I sort of started to understand the reason for the course. I had never attended college before, and I didn’t really know what certain things were,for example, Financial Aid. The topic time management was also influential across the semester. Learning a little more about my personality was also something that was influential across the semester.

As I opened my eyes and allowed my posture to relax, I let out a long, deep breath. The Buddhist monk conducting the religious ritual made his closing remarks, and I was sent out of the temple, back into the sweltering heat of summer in Virginia. Because a scout is reverent, it was expected of me by my troop that I attend one religious ceremony during my time at the National Scout Jamboree. Leading up to the service, my 13 year old self was especially concerned that the experience would be long, boring, and uneventful. “Why should I have to sit in silence when I could be rock climbing or mountain biking?” I thought. After the ceremony, however, I was at peace. I found that I thoroughly enjoyed the experience. By the time my troop and I left the Jamboree, the culmination of my adventures started to awaken something within 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 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.

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.

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.

My mind wandered, thinking of the day to come. My thoughts nearly drowned out the final bell of the day. I tossed my backpack on my shoulder, too lost in thought to fully put it on, and left the classroom. What I walked into did not seem like the halls of the school I used to walk at the beginning of the year, for these halls were much louder. Although it was a few days till summer began, students were already chattering about their plans. These conversations harmonized with the slamming locker doors, as it was the last day to empty them before their locks were cut and their belongings would be donated to next year’s students or were to be thrown out. Excitement had caused the students to become a stampede in the halls as everyone tried their best to rush out the school doors. While everyone was excited for the end of the school year, I was excited for a different reason. As I opened the doors to the front of the school, I became blinded by the sun and hit with its scorching desert heat. It was June 1st, summer was around the corner and today was my 17th birthday.