My Favorite Experience In School

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.

In middle school, 5th to 8th grade, I endure multiple adjective to describe my experience in middle school. While in Middle School, I struggle with my appearance which has stayed as an adult. For I always look at myself and all the flaws in my features, as my family members and/or friends state my beauty features, I will brushed them off by stating the negative feature I visually observe. Until recently, I’ve overcome my inability of reading in public and/or to my peers. As my cousin passed away tragically, his mother (my Aunt) asked if I will read his poem to her and a group of 50 strangers. She knew my fear of public speaking, she also knew my dream of becoming a teacher and starting to a career as a substitute teacher. Therefore, she knew I needed to overcome the fear of speaking. I am extremely pleased with myself to speak clearly and to have the strength and encouragement of my family to overcome my greatest fear with a poem in dedication to my beloved cousin.

“School time! School time!” exclaimed my Dad as he burst into my room at seven in the morning. Groggy and tired, my siblings and I woke up and dragged ourselves to the kitchen for breakfast. All five of us kids, ran from room to room, grabbing clothes, toothbrushes, and backpacks to get ready for school. The sixth would watch in astonishment, sitting comfortably on the couch, without a worry in the world. Along with some warm milk to her liking, she watched as the rest of the house filled with the daily before-school chaos. Once everyone was ready, we loaded up in our rather cramped Chevy Tahoe, making our way to three different schools all over the city of Irving. On the way, listening to Norteñas, my parent’s favorite type of classical Mexican music. Soon we’d all be dropped off, ready for a day full of learning. Next came the afternoon craze, but that’s a whole other environment.

Surrounded by all of the “Americans” I waved to my mother eager for her to finally leave and let me experience my first day of school. I had waited for the day I would finally be able to speak English, the language that I heard all of the other kids speak at the local park my mother took me to. English seemed like the most mysterious concept for my sister and I. So much so that her and I would start making up words in public, screaming gibberish at each other, hoping that people would think we were speaking the same language as them. Even though I was born in the United States, I was raised as a Pakistani, not an American. There were constant reminders by my parents that I am not an American. So when I was finally able to let go of my mother’s hand and walk off with the American kids into school I had the biggest smile on my face. I was so excited to be able to escape the circle I was in. Being 5 years old did not mean that I didn’t understand I was different. I knew my clothes were different then what the people on T.V. wore;

I knew that it would take some time to establish myself. While I was new to the community, I believed I would and could be successful with some work. After all, I had done so well in middle school. And then it happened; I entered the campus filled with energy as I walked into the big brown building. It appeared to be so extravagant, standing tall and surrounded by the bare trees. I knew what I was capable of and I told myself,"Don't let anyone get in the way". As the first bell rung, I was worried. I took my seat at 8:15 and I already began to lose my focus. I stared at all the new faces although I had yet to learn the names of my new peers. My staring contest was interrupted by a sheet of paper on my desk. It hauntingly said- "SYLLABUS."

“RING!” The bell had finally rung and it was time for me to go to 9th period. This was my favorite period because my only friend Mike was sitting next to me in Art. As we walked in, the Art teacher, Ms. Sims greeted us on our way to our seats. The air condition was on full blast as I was shivering with goosebumps everywhere. I didn’t want to ask her to turn the A/C down because was teaching another kid how to do the painting. She hates it when she is disrupted. When she finished before I could get a chance to talk she said, “ You are getting the paintings back. This will be 50% of your grade.” She finally got to me. Suddenly, all my goosebumps went away as I stared at my grade. I got a 34%! Mike asked me what I got but I froze and the words just came out of my mouth.

Something weird was going on. The other kids looked at me and quirked their eyebrows. It was the first day of middle school. I didn’t know any of the other kids. After class, one of them came up to me and asked “Are you Jewish?”

Ever since I was in middle school I always felt different, always the one that somehow stood out but at the same time, i didn’t. The first two years of middle school were kind of hard not because of school but what I faced after school and how I dealt with it. It was every single day that I came home only to face more arguing, it just seemed like everyday something was going to bother my mom or dad. If it wasn’t me or my brothers it was them, my parents always found something to argue about. It was really hard for me because I already had a lot of responsibilities and the weight of school pressing me against the wall, I just wasn’t looking forward to going back home like most of my friends.

In school, I have always been a relatively successful student, and I was always considered one of the smarter kids by my parents and a lot of the other students. In about sixth grade when they started to split the grade up into certain classes for the “advanced” kids and the kids that weren’t considered advanced. I was in the classes with all the kids that weren’t considered advanced. At the time though, I didn’t realize what they were doing or that I wasn’t actually considered a smart kid by the school, I just knew all my friends were in classes I wasn’t in, and it really upset me. I got put in the classes with a bunch of kids I didn’t like, or just people I didn’t know, and had never seen before. I still had the bus where I got to see a few of my friends, but other than that, they just weren’t around.

It was a good day, woke up early so i could go to the gym and warm my body up and just to get some practice in. Went home to my mother making breakfast as usual, started to get my things together for school like usual made sure I had all my books, computer and pencils. When I got to school it felt just like a regular day went to class like always i didn't have any test so that was a big load off. As it got closer to the end of the day the more nervous I started to feel I started to feel worried, nervous and scared but I did not know why I knew I was gonna be fine. It was an unusual feeling it was like my heart was feeling those emotions but in my head it was totally different i wasn't scared or nervous not even worried. It was my last class of the day the whole class i wasn't even focused on what was going on more on what was about to happen later. The bell rang school was over, it was time for tryouts.

My eyes had barely opened all the way before excitement set in. Today was the day. With one great leap I was out of bed, and in my clothes ready for school. I also got my clothing and other accessories ready for our long drive up Mt. Hood after school. My older sister, Christine, always went up the mountain to hot springs but I never got to experience anything like it, so the previous night, all the siblings that were going stood together against my mom's tyranny and managed to convince her to let us go to the hot springs. She never really gave a reason besides how late it was. I theorize that she didn't have any other excuses. She was unreasonable in that manner.

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.

I awoke on an early morning, my mother tugging on me. I ask, "What are you doing?" in a tired voice. She replied, "Get ready, Armani!" That's when I remembered, that today was the big day, where I would go to school for my first time. In a hurry, I jumped out of my bed and put on my clothes. I've never seen my parents so happy before, and I was confused why. I wasn't quite sure what "school" was, but I knew it was a place where kids like me went and I will learn things. Thinking about it, scared me on how my experience was gonna be for the first time in my life.

Either you make high school a fun experience or you just cruise on by, from making new friends to just doing your homework I'm here to help you have the best experience while spending your teenage years in school.

The high school that I was in gave me an interesting experience. I was able to learn and experience different lessons with in my high school. Three of those life lessons that I went through are when my school was placed on lockdown, another experience is a club that I joined which helped really mature. Finally the other experience I faced in high school was that some of my friends that I had wanted me to join them in some bad situations but I kept myself out of those situations.