My Experience In High School

In the corners of Nathaniel Hawthorne’s The Scarlet Letter, stand two fascinating characters—Pearl and Roger Chillingsworth. In the story, Pearl is the illegitimate child of the protagonist, Hester Prynne, and the minister, Arthur Dimmesdale, while Chillingsworth is Hester’s estranged husband who everyone thought was dead. Both of these two supporting characters have a surreal presences and each are deeply involved in Hester’s life, particularly her life after the discovery of her adultry. With as many similarities as they have, the reader may question what the respective rolls of these two characters are. Much has been said about the characters individually, but in this paper I will explore how the characters relate to each other in the telling of the story. Based on the similarities, differences, and roles that the characters play in the story; I will explain how they many in fact be read as foils of one another.

It’s something we see it in cartoons all the time; one character gets bonked on the head and stars are suddenly floating in the air with the cartoon having a dazed look. However, only seconds later the cartoon is back up and back in action. This may seem funny on the latest saga of Tom and Jerry or Coyote and Roadrunner, but it’s not so funny in real life. Seeing stars, feeling dazed, and losing consciousness may be a type of brain injury called a concussion. A concussion, simply put, is a temporary loss of normal brain function caused by a sudden jolt or blow to the head. Concussions and other types of brain injuries are fairly common. According to the Brain Injury Association of America, “every 21

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

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

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.

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

     Tony finished getting ready, and then we left for the high school. The parking lot was filled with all the other seniors’ cars. Tony and I walked into the library ten minutes late like usual, and the principal had already started giving instructions. I found my place in line and then was all ears. I couldn’t help but look around at all the others. Smiles were plastered on their faces as if they had heard a hilarious joke. Once the principal concluded his speech, the whole senior class paraded down the hallway to the commons in two uniform lines stopping just outside the gymnasium doors. We could hear the band warming up and playing songs. All the people that were standing around me were bubbling

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.