My Experience In My School

September 2nd 1958 it’s my first day of fifth grade and I had just moved to a new house, new town, and new school. I woke up excited to go to my new school,new friends, and a new start. I got up and got ready to start my my first day. I put on my favorite shirt and skirt with my new long white socks. I put my hair into two braids and tied two bright red ribbons in, to match my skirt. I ran down the stairs grabbed my backpack and bursted through the door. I didn’t even stop to eat anything or even grab my bag lunch. As I got on the bus I didn’t know anyone so i sat by myself in the fourth seat and sat quietly as i looked out the window.

It was a Monday morning in october, a work day. I usually would go to school but I had the day that monday for parent teacher conferences. I was in second grade. Even though I had off of school, my mom still had to go to work. She worked at a private school, which didn't have conferences that day. My alarm went off, and I crawled out of bed. I “Why do I still have to get up early? I don't even have school” I thought, as I dragged myself across the hall to the bathroom. I got myself ready for school, and my mother and I were out the door.

The alarm clock buzzed loudly beside my ear. Feeling like a gong that was being hit repeatedly was placed right beside my head. I sluggishly pulled myself out of my bed and dragged myself to my closet. The words, first day of school moaned ghastly in my head. Summer was uneventful and school was just going to be hell. I picked out an old, worn out flannel and a pair of jeans to wear. Not rushing at all, I struggled to put the raggedy clothes on. They smelt like horrendous lies and rumors. Exactly what this state and my school are built on.

Then the morning of July 29, 2015, was finally upon me. It was a beautiful, summer day outside. Springing out of bed, excited as a little kid on their first day of school, I was filled with overwhelming joy. I had picked out my outfit in advance. Short black shorts, a classic band tee, and black converse, was what I had decided on. After making sure my outfit was quality, I put on my makeup, trying not to stab myself my eye with the mascara wand. As a I raced to get ready, I could not contain the smile that was trying to escape from my lips. As I stood at the top of the stairs, I hollered at my mom if she was ready to go.

At 5:30 a.m. My alarm clock buzzed. It was Wednesday. I thought to myself, school doesn't start for another two and a half hours. I suddenly remembered it's one of the most exciting days that I will experience. Both my parents were sleeping. I turned off my alarm and got out of my warm bed. Immediately I put on swimming shorts with no shirt, to top it off a flat brim hat sitting backwards on my head. I walked into the hallway making sure not to wake anyone. I creeped down the stairs and walked into my kitchen. I saw a note on top of my wetsuit that read “I washed and dried it, I will call the school and say you have an appointment, have fun and don't get hurt, love mom.”

The sun gradually crept up from the darkness and brought brightness into the small little town of Manville. The sunshine poured light into my window bringing warmth. My eyes adjusted to the new lightning and I opened my eyes from a well-rested sleep. I stared at my ceiling and thought, my first day of high school. Filled with excitement and with butterflies in my stomach, I leaped out of bed and started getting ready for the day. My outfit was carefully laid out and my backpack was already set; full of fresh new school supplies and my neatly completed summer homework. I swung it over my shoulder, ready to take on the day. I headed downstairs and greeted my mom in the kitchen, who prepared a delicious breakfast.

I’ve never been one to jump in without looking. I can count the times I have been impulsive on one hand. My time at school is spent shifting from one class to another and then eventually heading home at the end of the day. I considered deciding to hang out with friends for an hour after school spontaneous. At school, I played tennis on a team and hardly ever wore my hair down. I was beginning to settle into the routine of high school -- the steady plodding along with backpacks spilling over with textbooks. I assumed that this would occupy the rest of my time during high school.

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.

Being 5 feet tall, 90 pounds isn’t the ideal way to start high school, especially when you have plans to be a Division-1 student-athlete. If life were an elevator, my elevator was moving up through the floors at a frustratingly slower pace than those around me. I can attest that being picked last and left out can be quite a blow to one’s self-esteem. I have been on the “B” team and have felt that I wasn’t good enough to be out there on the field at all. The feeling, though, never quite sat right with me and I recognized early on that it was my challenge to overcome.

I hated school and everything that had to do with it, but I always enjoyed making up stories. It was my way, even as a small child, to escape everything. I have always had a very vivid imagination and writing was my way of channeling that. I enjoyed writing about events in my life but would always add a magical twist or have someone there to save the day. On the day, my teacher approached me as I was sitting in class and not paying attention as usual. My notebook was full of all the workings of my imagination.

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.

“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.

It was the beginning of a new cycle. Every year was similar to the last. I would wake up Monday through Friday at 7:30am despising my past self for staying up so late playing video games or watching videos. Then I would take a shower, eat breakfast, and be driven to school. Once summer break would begin and I would stay up all night and sleep during the day. Then near the beginning of the school year my anxiety would strike, from me thinking of meeting new teachers and knowing if I would have any friends in my classes. This day changed all of that in the blink of an eye. It was May 14th, 2017, the day of graduation.

When I first enrolled high school, I was following the current I didn’t have a plan for college or understand what I was going to do with my life. I had a challenging background when it came to academics; my scores were always “alright” but were never enough for Advance Placement courses. Constantly schoolteachers belittled me believing I wasn’t meant for learning. After hearing this I wanted to create a structured path that I could be proud of. I thought I wasn’t going anywhere in life until I challenged myself academically for a better future.

There have been times in my life in which my decisions have led to negative consequences. One of these biggest mistakes occurred my sophomore year.