I’ve been anxious about college admittance since I first learned what college was. When the first trimester of fifth grade ended, and I learned that my good name had been sullied with a B+ grade in my reading class, I was unreservedly hysterical until my mother finally cornered me into my bedroom. I imagine she was getting snot-and-tear stains out of her woolen sweater for days. Since that heart-breaking evening, I’ve been afflicted with acute gastritis, insomnia, and a few cases of influenza thanks to my aggressive persistence in school. I was born to young parents, with no college degrees and no financial footing. I never realized that my situation was different from my peers’ until agencies began to show up to my house looking to examine the pipes and ask about something called “the square-footage”. My father had been laid-off, eliminating nearly all of our income, and our home was foreclosed upon in 2013. It finally made sense why my mother had been boiling water for our baths and why we all wore our jackets inside; we were broke. Success reached a new level of significance for me. I knew I had to scratch my way to the top of the class, climbing over kids that were seemingly born there. Luckily, we found shelter in a friend’s vacation home until we found a rental of our own. Its quaint, ornamental trim reminded my friends of a gingerbread house, but the inside was not nearly as sweet. My mother and father were both working full time, and I was left to care for my
As we pulled up to the massive elementary school building, I begged my mom to let me stay home from school, just once. As usual, she said no. Realizing my attempt to get out of school was futile, I shouldered my backpack, swung open the door, and trudged over to the front door. I would rather be anywhere else than here. For the majority of my life, I attended public schools. It wasn’t rare for me to fail a test or even a whole class. It was because of these failures that I would get even more demotivated and threw away the idea of working hard or completing quality work altogether.
I wondered what it would be like to live in a shelter and having to share your home with so many others. I could not imagine what it would be like, yet there are many who it is their reality. Some are born into that kind of lifestyle and it made me try to understand what that would be like. What it would be like grouping up without a home, then one day, getting the privilege to have your own home. What an amazing feeling that must be. Another scenario I tried to imagine is having a home where you were afraid to come back to each day. By this I mean having an abusive parent or spouse. Some people do everything they can to avoid going home because they are scared. How would that effect your future and future home decisions? I often asked myself this question throughout reading this essay. I tried to put myself in other peoples’ shoes while I was reading, although it was difficult at times to do so. The author managed to make me feel happy and grateful, yet sorrow at the same time. I was thankful that it made me appreciative of having a home to call mine at the end of each day, but also sad at the fact that many people do not get that same feeling of
As we all know life is full of experiences. Some of those experiences do not affect our lives, where as others are very significant. On my way into eighth grade I made the decision with my family to be home schooled. I learned many useful things, and it’s still fresh in my mind. The lessons I learned from my experience has strengthened my character immensely. My middle school years were the hardest of my life. I experienced more sadness and stress in those three years than an average adult experiences in their whole life. My sixth grade year was nearing to an end, and I had a falling out with my best friends. Before this I had never experienced any drama. As a thirteen year old, I never thought I would experience something so devastating and heartbreaking. A couple months before the school year was ending one of my best friends and I were having a good time hanging out. As the day was coming to an end, her mother came to take her back home. My friends and I were very close and we are always sad to see each other leave. The next morning, I walked into school expecting to see all my friends and have a good time. I began walking towards them and I noticed a couple people glaring at me. Then I realized they were all glaring at me. A lot of people I didn’t know we even giving me dirty looks. The only two people I didn’t see was my best friends. As i went around school looking for them people began whispering when I walked by. The people where saying: “I can’t believe she called
“I have grown into a being that is sitting on top of a throne.” Entering school on September of 2016, I started off slow and bad thinking it was just the aftermath from the long fun summer I had. After a few months, my grades began to drop, I was missing school, and I was making bad decisions. Academically and personally, I was digging my own grave without my knowing, but soon I gathered my faults my mistakes and my ongoing issues and tried to start clean. I started to realize more and more as I went through my high school years up to now how important some things may be and how somethings will not matter in the future. My Junior Year I learned to distinguish between what I know will help me in my future vs what will not help me and to remove what will not be important to me. I lost friends, chances, a little bit of dignity, but through the year I learned that it is okay to lose friends, I learned that I will begin to take opportunities that will present for me, and I gained back dignity that was lost. I created a new atmosphere for myself and began to appreciate what really needed to be appreciated. Junior year may have been the hardest year of my whole education.
Six years old, with my hair carefully braided into two bunches on both sides of my head, looking around at a school I’ve never been to before. It was my first day of school and I had no idea where my classroom was or who my teacher would be. Eventually I ended up where I was supposed to be and the first thing I noticed was a funky peanut shaped table located by a huge window towards the back of the classroom. My teacher's name was Mrs. Jones, a very tall woman with a love for flamingos. Her classroom was full of brightly colored posters with educational information displayed and several flamingoes hidden in plain sight. There were about twenty other children in the classroom, but I was too scared to go up to anyone. I stayed in the corner closest to the door, unable to make the first move, waiting for someone to notice me. Everything started out easy and one by one each student was taken to the peanut table. When it was my turn, I realized that we were being tested. Mrs. Jones kept on saying that my score didn’t matter and all she wanted was for me to do my best. The test contained several reading passages and after I was done I was asked to answer multiple choice questions about what I read. I answered the question the best I could and once I was done it was the next person's turn. At that time, I didn’t realize why we were being tested or what was the point of it. How was I supposed to know that this test would be used to separate our class into different groups of reading
To say I enjoyed our field trip to Epic Elementary would be an understatement. I learned so much in those two hours, and I have found myself thinking about Epic a lot over the last week. Anytime I attend professional development, I try to take one idea away to try in my classroom. After leaving Epic on Wednesday, I couldn’t just pick one idea. There were so many valuable take-aways from this experience.
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 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.
It 2 years ago, my Dad handed me the phone. It was Mrs. Brownlee on the line, who my Dad had gone to Cate with, asking me about my day. After a nice 2 minutes of talking she told me wonderful news, I had gotten into Cate. It had been a lifelong goal of mine. I started to ponder about how much fun it would be. The next morning I started to tell my friends and realized that Parker Bowlin had also gotten in. This made me very excited, I would not be going alone.
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.
In the summer of 2013, I received an email that changed my life forever. It was up to me to accept or decline the new journey that allowed me to be accepted into Edgecombe Early College High School. I decided to accept this new journey that was filled with 5 years of butterflies, hardships, new opportunities and self improvement.
School was rolling up and since I lived alone now was kinda different. I was homeschooled and on a mountain near Seoul. I got startled by Candy (my rabbit) who stomping on the wooden floor. I hesitantly get up from my bed and walk over to Candy and feed him some food. I look at the time, 6 AM, its was still early so I changed into my new uniform from Hikari Academy. The school was for people that have super powers and abilities. Mine was Telepathy and Animal control. I kinda got it from my parents about slightly different. I cook some eggs and start eating. When I finish, I get up from the chair and stretch. Because I was homeschooled, I had no friends in the past. Well I did have some animal friends. When I go to school I usually get headphones so I don’t read everyone’s mind which was kind of annoying hearing everyone’s thoughts. After 30 minutes I put my phone in my pocket and grab a soft scarf. I head out the door and the cold air goes through me. I quickly put on my headphones, almost forgetting. I walked my way to the school, many others were also going to school. I arrived at the massive school and realized how nervous I was. It was quite frightening. I see a guy that was at least 6ft tall. I walk in the school. And some people look at me weirdly. It was probably because of my tattoo I got before, making them think I’m in some kind of gang. Until I realize that a dove was on my shoulder. I eagerly shoo away the bird. I really disliked attention from others. I look
All my life I have attended my hometowns education school districts. I knew every student in school because we had all grown up together since preschool. I recall middle school being the best three years of my life for the reason I was very popular and had a boyfriend who I once thought was perfect for me. As I knew everyone, everybody knew me and wanted to be in my life. This was until I moved on to high school and that's when everything changed for me. I went from being this girl that everyone praised to a depressed girl that was loathed, and for that reason, it encouraged me to switch schools.
“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.
The place we had once thought of as a home was soon to become a mere memory. Until this day we remain confused of why or what reason caused him to discard us from his home. During the night of June 8, 2015, our uncle did not step foot inside the house while we were packing our belongings. The utter silence my brother and I shared reeked of sadness and confusion. The remainder of summer 2015, we hovered from place to place to lay our heads. We slept in motels and our gracious church home prepared us meals, whether it was breakfast, lunch, or dinner; their kind gestures towards my brother and I were much appreciated. They watched over us until we could find find a suitable living space to stay.