My Experiences Of My Life In High School

Students who are becoming freshmen often ask “what’s it like to be in high school?” High school is not what you think. Freshmen don’t get pushed in lockers, there's not that one popular girl who shoves other students books out of their hands, and the cafeteria is not the most embarrassing place to be. High school is not an amicable. If you really think high school is a amicable place where students smile at each other, think again. Here is some advice from my high school experience.

1. Provide a short description of your high school experience. How have you grown/evolved from 9th grade to this point? List some of the highlights of your high school career.

High school in its self is an experience. There are many activities and opportunities to take part in. I have been provided the opportunity to have experience many of these during the course of my high school career. The one that stands out to me as most satisfying was when the girls volleyball team went to state. However, I am not a member of the volleyball team; I am a part of the band.

Before high school, I was quite sheltered in a small middle school with limited technological advancements. Going into high school, I was exposed to a great amount of resources that I never had before. For example, each freshman student was given a chromebook to use for the rest of our high school career. The opportunities provided to me by my high school helped me understand to never overlook experiences and resources that will be beneficial to myself and others. Choir has also been a major part of my high school experience. Without choir, I would not have been exposed to performing or the dedication it takes to fit a performing arts into my schedule. Performing is an artform that I love and plan to continue during college. I am very interesting

If you were to ask me if I liked my high school life here in the U.S. three years ago, I would give you a definite, one worded answer, “No.” It was my fourth year since I had moved from China to New York, I had thought that I had gotten used to the life here, until the first day of high school that screwed everything up. Everything in Midwood was totally different from what I had expected, or, from what I had experienced. Everything was new to me; I had never been used to move from class to class in between periods, and meet different people every time in a new class. As a timid person myself, everything in high school was making me uncomfortable. I felt as if I would never make any friends or even survive in this big school.

For many people change is full of stressful and not welcome. Not a lot of people handle change well. It’s difficult to make changes when you are uncertain of what you want to be doing. Life is full of changes that are big and small. Some changes are taken solely by yourself, and others with a group of family or friends. Life is very dynamic and it always will be.

High School is a very crucial place for most people, but I can definitely say it was very difficult for me. I did well in school, well enough for me. Now, to me the requirements to graduate high school seemed too difficult for one person, then again, most people manage to do; let me rephrase that: it seemed too difficult for me. I guess the main focus throughout this memoir is; when does your life truly begin? At the start of birth or the walk across the stage? Well, here’s how mines began.

High school. Where you get over 1000 teenagers together and make them feel as uncomfortable as possible while attempting to prepare them for their futures. Needless to say, some mistakes will be made by each and every one of them. Preparing for the future is scary but it’s something everyone has to do eventually. Of course every high school has that “college readiness” week where they try and scare students into thinking about what college to go to when they’re only 15. It can get pretty stressful, and when stress gets to you, it can make you do weird things. With all of the stress about the future coming at me head first, I had a hard time making the right choices. On top of that, I was only a little sophomore who didn’t have many friends while trying to push my way through this whole “high school” thing. So of course I made stupid choices, but who doesn’t. With all the new and scary things I figured I might as well add Chemistry to that list as well.

My first year of high school, I did not think too much about self-growth. I thought more about finding new friends. The determination for new friends helped me gain the courage to join a sport and numerous of clubs. I decided to join tennis; keeping in mind I have never touched a racquet, nor stepped a foot on a tennis court before my first day of tennis class. I remember the gut wrenching nerves I had running all around my body when I met my coach and new teammates. Ranked second to last on the team was painful, but the pain encouraged me to become better. For day, weeks, and months throughout the school year, my new group of friends and I stayed afterschool waiting for varsity practice to end, so we would be able to practice until the sun came down. Slowly my tennis skills and talent started improving. Along with my improvements, I started realizing I was determined and committed to something for the first time in my life. My interest in becoming the best lead me from being rank second to last, to second on the list. With great success in improving my tennis skills, I was able to manage my time well enough to study hard for Latin competition. Continuous learning about Latin history and attending tennis tournaments were tiring but well worth it. I managed to place second for girls double in the Pasadena district and placing first in Latin competition for area. At the end of Freshmen year, I was announced to join the varsity team and make it to state for Latin competition.

When I entered college as a freshman, it was expected of me. There was no other choice or

I grew up in a life where I was told I needed to go to church at 8:20 every Tuesday, had to wear collared shirts of only red, white, or blue that are to be tucked into my khaki pants, held up by the mandatory belt, and I had better pray to Jesus that I can sneak past the teachers with my forbidden neon socks. This life was Catholic School. Attending Resurrection, honestly, was pretty fantastic; of course, no kid wanted to wear those tragic uniforms every day when they know other kids are wearing sweatpants, but I enjoyed school.

Like other kids, high school is a place where one tries to understand who they are and

School can be a great place of growth and a time in one’s life where they may find themselves. Specifically, high school can be considered the most important time in all years of schooling. One of the more important places to me is my high school, Bullitt East. Bullitt East at first glance is just another high school but to me it means more especially with it being my senior year and having a good understanding of the school. Bullitt East has shaped me into the person I am today by helping me pick my career, get into playing tennis, and giving a place to socialize. This school has changed me in mostly positive ways that have made me who I am today.

When I was in junior high, I found my group of friends. I thought we would all stay close forever, but things changed throughout our years in high school. I went from feeling like I had a family to feeling like I been left behind and forgotten.

My High School career was challenging in many ways. When I was a junior, my entire life had been spent in one school, Ambassadors for Christ Academy. Now I have learned of its notoriety as a failure of an institution, but at the time my ignorant caregivers chose to overlook the obvious negatives and hold fast to their overconfidence in their own decisions. All this in mind, I knew everyone in my freshman class, most of them on a rather intimate level. I would be lying if I said I held much else but the rancid hatred of familiarity for them. My middle school years had been plagued with depression and bad times, so I was not thrilled to still be in school. Knowing things would be bad, and that even the best situations would rapidly deteriorate, I held the kind of optimism an abuse survivor has. You know, somewhere in the limited views I had been able to shamble together, I held the hope that the serially repugnant institution would stumble over some reprieve for its tortured students. This hope was fostered by those close to me. There were few people more supportive and loving to me than my grandmother, Ruby. She and my mother were the closest relatives I had, and they fostered this tiny spark of hope in me, for better or worse. To hope for such luck was foolish, and like hopes were punished. Nonetheless, they carried on fostering that hope in me in my darkest hours, as if to say there was some hope to be found in even the direst of situations. What they failed to understand