My First Day At High School

To many freshman the first day of high school is the opening chapter of a new novel, a fresh start to a sometimes embarrassing middle school experience we would all just love to erase from our memories. August 13th, 2012 was the beginning of my four year long narrative at Cypress Bay High School. Despite my desperate desire to grow up, become an adult, and move far away from my parents for college all that did not seem possible because I had never previously attended a public school. I was struck with fear that I would not be able to adjust to the fast pace dynamics of a large high school.

From Chicago’s 77 neighborhood areas, North Lawndale occupies 3rd for violent crime reports, in the past 30 days, being robbery the most frequent one, it ranks 20th for property crime, with thefts as the most common offense, and 4th for quality of life, with criminal damage being the highest one. As big plants and other factories moved out of the neighborhood, several liquor stores replaced the empty spaces and crime became the norm. Abraham Burgo, 35 year-old, was shot in the neck on January 23, and on February 1 he died. The victim lived in the 1500 block of South Trumbull Avenue. The register of murders available also shows the case of 21 year-old man Jaquille Reams. He was inside of a store in West Ogden Avenue when he was shot multiple

In the school year of 2015-2016, I am a high school student now. I should be excited for this upcoming school. However, I felt nervous about this school year. I lay in my bed until my mom called me many times. After eating my wonderful breakfast, my mom and younger sister asked to get ready for school. I didn’t want to change my pajama. My dad called me from the downstair, “Iris, hurry up. It is time to school now.” I was unhappy to get out of my room. Even though I have been in the Memorial High School many times before this school year, I was afraid of being in my first day of school.

When I saw my friends walking toward me, that’s when I finally stepped into the building. As I walked into the building, I was astonished by how enormous the school was compared to my middle school. Some teachers welcomed me to the new school, and asked me if I needed any help finding the classrooms, while the other teachers were too busy typing on their computers. The moment when I entered my homeroom, it surely was much bigger than the one at my old school, the room makes me feel more comfortable with the new environment because the teacher was very friendly and very professional because of well-prepared clothes, and the way she talked. I finally realized that I have entered the world of reality, such as passing all my classes and graduate high school, then off to

The first year, the time to prove myself had arrived. Classes, rooms, teachers, and some students were unfamiliar. Eventually, minutes melted into hours, hours to days, and days to weeks. It didn’t take long before my schedule was routine, something of second nature. Humor and happiness were found in the form of my advisory family, where school was transformed into something more than going through the same motions of day to day activity. By the closing point of sixth grade, I was having a hard time letting go of what I’d adapted to. “What’s wrong?” my dad asked when I was getting into the car after being picked up early on the last day. I explained how distressed I was that my first year of middle school exceeded my expectations, and that it had to come to an end. Although his outlook viewed my reason for sorrow as trivial, I didn’t.

The Progressive Reform Movement ideas were to make the educational institutions effective agencies where there was respect for diversity, as well as a place to gain educational understanding on their quest of being citizens that believe in service for others (Weiler, 2004). Furthermore, there was a belief that within the classroom setting, there would be a democratic relationship that would focus on the needs of the students, rather than the institution (Progressive Education – Philosophical Foundations, Pedagogical Progressivism, Administrative Progressivism, Life-Adjustment Progressivism, n.d.).

As any other freshman entering high school it can be a very nerve racking situation. On September 8, 2015 I Chelsea Gonzalez was entering high school in Thurgood Academy Of Learning And Social Change , my mind was going crazy and I didn't know what to expect. I have always asked myself whether high school would be similar to what appeared in movies; people dancing and singing on top of the lunch tables or, was it going to be a 4 horrible school years in which I would never make friends. I clearly remember seeing kids running toward their group of friends, as I walked down the lunchroom. My hands were sweating and it felt like a million butterflies in my stomach. The room was filled with cries of laughter, kids running back and forth asking each

To even acknowledge that they wanted me to depart to a different school, I was hesitant. However, they began to speak of how it’s all at my own pace, as well as be in-charge of my due dates. Because I knew that I wouldn't be coming back, I cried as we walked to the car. My mom asked if I was interested in trying the program, upset I shook my head. We pulled into the 'Fresh Start' schools parking lot. We didn't know what to expect when we walked in and signed up for the program, but I placed my information down on the enrollment

As the story goes, it was my first day as a freshman at Poplar Bluff High School. As I stepped off the bus to my new school, I found myself unfamiliar and nervous. My first instinct was to find my friends on such a wide campus, but, class would be starting soon so I wouldn’t have time. “Guess I will just get to my first class early”, I thought to myself while walking in the shivering, cold weather.

Restful Haven Nursing Home was a 1980’s two-storey brick building, reminiscent of a shabby low budget hotel in which couples, married but not necessarily to each other take pleasure in brief clandestine dalliances. It sat just off a busy roundabout and the service road leading to it also offered access to a Travel Lodge, a huge One-Stop garage and a McDonald's. However, it would be a mistake to imagine that the home's position, implied an ongoing inclusivity in society for the people who found themselves resident there. For whilst on the whole the hotel guests, travellers and food connoisseurs could still conceptualise a speculative life span ahead of them the residents at Restful Haven were no longer afforded that luxury. On arrival, for the lucid ones at least, there was an unspoken recognition that it was almost certainly a one-way journey, to be embarked upon slowly, worn out joints and trepidation each on their part vying for supremacy. However, once those and all other earthly afflictions had been finally cast aside, they mostly left the home at high speed in a vehicle with blacked out windows whose graphics

When I woke up this morning, I was extremely nervous. Among my close friends and family, I

At the beginning of my 8th grade school year, I wasn't ready for change. I had lived in Crystal Lake, Illinois my whole life until l that point. I was forced to drop everything that I had held dear in that town and I moved to Highland Park, Illinois. I was frightened by the transition and this is most demonstrated in my first day at my new school. As we rolled up to the sidewalk and my

I was a new freshman in the Fall of 2014 starting at Mountain View High School, short, shy, and oblivious. The bus pulled up a few blocks away from my house I was nervous and unaware of what the first day would be like. I got on the bus and made it to school at the exact time the bell rang, when I got inside all I could see was a sea full of students. I thought to myself, here's to new beginnings, would the people be approachable? Would it be easy for me to make all new friends? I was stressed out and nervous about what would happen when I made it to that hallway, I didn’t even know where to go and who to ask for help. I finally found this teacher in the hall and I approached her and she helped me to my homeroom class that started at

Today, I started my first day of Junior year at Walter Johnson High School ! I was happy to get up in the morning, knowing today i’ll be able to put my brain to use and have a reason to get ready. I was curious to find out who my teachers were this year, since all the names of the teachers I saw on my Edline were unfamiliar. My friend, Allyson picked me up for school in the morning, wearing her senior girls shirt, while I was happy to see her, it made me also very sad to come to the realization that she was going off to college soon, which will leave me feeling a lonely next year. When I finally got to school, I was annoyed to find out that their was little to no air conditioning in the school on a hot day. I went to all my classes, and was

For me, moving to a new school was never easy. I was always starting fresh and beginning something new. The longest I had stayed at a school was four years, and we weren’t even living in the US. It was really hard to make new friends while trying to keep in touch with the old, but I was young. I didn’t really understand what moving away meant, leaving behind the friends I had made, leaving the school I was just getting used to, because all I could think about was where we were going next. Coming to St. Mary’s, I knew that this would be an amazing two years. I was going to graduate here and make friends that were going to last a lifetime. From the moment I walked through the crowded hall of people rushing to meet their homeroom, until the moment