My First Day At My New School

I was starting my first day at a new school. My palms were sweaty, my heart was thumping, and I had butterflies in my stomach. I took a deep breath and walked towards the grey doors. I thought about what the new school would be like; how the teachers were and how the students were. I missed my friends from my old school. I walked through those big grey doors to a whole new place.

I tried to blink in my tears, because the last thing I wanted was to end up crying like a loser on the first day of school. "Mom, I'll be fine.". I certainly was not fine. I was anything, but fine. I took a long, deep breath as my eyes met the sight of Johnson, an enormous school with kids bustling in and out like bees. I knew I was in for something big, but big doesn't always mean better, right? Time was ticking by, and I had an obnoxious feeling luring in my stomach, worse than any type of butterflies. I turned on my music, completely redid my hair and started tapping on the dashboard with my nails. Oh gosh, I literally was doing everything to get my mind off going to school. However, that became quite impossible when my mom stopped the car in front of the main entrance of high school. I was so close to pinching myself, hoping that this was some messed up dream. But it was, unfortunately, reality. After observing a bit, I couldn't help but laugh at the diversity of all the kids that were walking in. Some were jumping with joy, others laughing for what seemed to me no apparent reason, and some who hunched as they sluggishly walked

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.

I was in the bathroom getting ready for the first day of the third trimester of 8th grade, I was comfortably singing in my bathroom thinking I was alone. After getting ready I opened up the door and look in the hallway flustered to see my mom filming me singing. I was embarrassed and my cheeks turned bright red as I ran towards the front door to jump into my shoes and catch the bus. I went to school and it was a regular day, I had new classes and one of them was with my favorite teacher, Mrs. Gates. I never thought I would build up the confidence to sing infront of people ever but Mrs. Gates but i started to rethink that when my teacher told the class that at the end of this week on friday we will have auditions for a solo of the choir. I felt this uneasiness in my stomach and thought I was about to embarrass myself by throwing up in front of the whole class. I went the whole day just thinking about that solo.

I stood there firmly and unchanging. My blouse became a sponge as I begged and pleaded not to go inside. "Quiet down Christine! We're in public!,” said my mom. As two women reached for my arms, I grabbed a nearby pole and latched onto the ground. With no success, my concrete feet were being forced beyond the doors and there was nothing I could do. My spirit was drowned out by the roaring inside as the weight of defeat fell heavy on my shoulders. It was my first day of school in a new suburban community and district known as Alief.

In the words of Harry Wong, “The first day of class is the most important day of the school year”. Since this day is so important I will have had to prepare a few things before the day actually starts. I will have assigned seats in my classroom before the day starts, and I will have written my bell work activity for the class before they arrive. Finally, I will have all the materials I need for that day within reach, so I am prepared for transitions.

“Unde?” I replied, wondering where he wanted me to go. What I didn’t realize was that he was saying ‘Hi!’, a common American greeting, and not requesting to come with him.

On August 14, 2015 it was my first day at FHS. My alarm turned on at 6:30 a.m and the sun was shinning through my window, plus the smell of fresh air blew through my window. As, I was about done getting ready, my sister as if I wanted breakfast, she made, french toast with strawberries and bananas on the side. Knowing that the bus was arriving, I asked my sister to drop me off at school, because I was scared and nervous. I honestly didn't know what to expect, for my first day of school.

When I was young I was bubbly and timid; a kid who tried to be nice to everyone and cause no drama. I always had a smile plastered on my face even if people had ignored me. I had a sense of naïveté to me, an aura of innocence. In the end of third grade I had been excited for summer, and all of the trips that would fall within it, but as we know, summer doesn't last forever. Before I knew it, fourth grade was approaching and my young self had a bittersweet feeling about this all. I never wanted summer to end, but I could await to see what fourth grade would bring me.

Well, here it is,the day I've been dreading since Mrs. Mercer first brought it up. This day honestly came way too fast! When I first got my schedule and seen current health issues, I was like what in the world? So the first day of school came about and it was time for seventh period. When I realized it was Mrs. Mercer's class, I got extremely happy. I wasn't sure what to expect the first few days. As the days went on, all 13 of us started to get the hang of everything and bonded instantly. This is definitely a class that I'll always remember and I will truly miss! We've all had happy times,sad times,angry times,and a lot of fun times. I've honestly took in a lot from RY, especially snap and zap. Snap and Zap is where you snap out of bad thoughts and zap in good thoughts. I found if you do that then you wouldn't have as much anxiety build up. I feel like the RY class has helped a lot with my anxiety and anger. Mrs.Mercer and the 12 others in RY have been there for me since the first day. I want to thank all you guys. When class first started, I wasn't sure if I wanted to open up because at that time I only talked to like two people. I wasn't sure if I could trust everyone. Well about the second week I felt like I had a family A family that I can talk to, cry too, get advice from, never be judged by, a family that I can just simply enjoy. One that Id die to have at home. I knew if I couldn't trust anyone else, I had 13 other people that I knew for a fact that I could run to

Highschool, what everyone seems to look forward to, till the day comes. As an incoming freshman many questions come - Will my friends still be there after summer that I haven’t seen? Is it as hard as others say it is? Will I have friends in my classes? Will the teachers like me? As hard as it seems once you realize that almost everyone around you is wondering the same things there is really no reason to worry.

From the moment I walked into this school in fourth grade, I knew that I would have an exciting adventure here, at Maple Place School. On the first day of school in fifth grade I was welcomed by one of the best teachers here. I was excited to have her as my science teacher because her smile made my day just a little bit better. I walked into the gym and didn’t recognize anybody, that's because I was a new student. Everybody was welcoming their peers and friends back to school, and I was standing in the gym, watching. But, I was excited to start at yet another new school. I was used to changing schools, I had already done it twice. I know that it doesn’t matter how many friends I will or will not have during my four years here, it's about my education and journey with the friends that I have.

I hold back a flood of tears, as I reluctantly walk up the unfamiliar block-like steps of the mustard yellow bus, while waving my mother goodbye. I choose an empty, patched up seat close to the bus driver. I can hear the jumbled up voices of many others on the bus, but I cannot understand a single word. I sit alone with my mouth sealed shut with a lump forming in my throat, and I cannot help but feel like the black sheep of the family. This feeling only worsens as I arrive to school, the building with small hallways, white walls, and the scent of pencil shavings and hand sanitizer. I long to play with the rest of the energetic children, but I stay put as I know I won’t understand them and they won’t understand me.

I held my breath as I scanned the syllabus on the first day of class. Then I heard my professor say “And in week thirteen you will present your research findings in your discussion sections”. Hearing this sent me into an automatic panic. Having to speak in class felt impossible to me. My flight or fight response was activated any time I anticipated the threat of speaking in class. I was sure to drop the class at any indication that I would have to talk, either by being called on or having to give a presentation. Sometimes I convinced myself things would be different and I would be able to handle it. It never worked, the results were the same; I didn’t go to class. All of my grades were based on papers and exams. So I would submit my papers and take the tests but not go to class. My half assed approach to participating in college was to take classes as if they were an independent study. I felt immediate relief when I choose avoidance until the guilt set in from getting poor grades, wasting money and lying to everyone. The vicious cycle only fueled my anxiety, my avoidance and my academic problems.

Being born in December, I had to start school a year later. I hated this, though I was not that much older it still bothered me. I thought everyone was judging me because of my age, and the grade I was in. However, I knew that going to high school was my chance to graduate with my class. Throughout my freshman and sophomore year I pushed myself to come out of my shell; I went to my first dance, I joined the dance club, the softball team and sung for judges. The next year I was still determined to graduate early, so during registration I pleaded my case of why I wanted to graduate early. Another reason I really wanted to graduate early was because I was turning eighteen, and being adopted I knew my mom would no longer get help for me; as far as healthcare or food assistance. I was told that there was no guarantee that I would graduate early but just in case there was an opportunity I had an alternative schedule.