My First Day At School

Although I have not appreciated writing like I should, it has increased my knowledge on many subjects. From reading vivid stories to reading elaborative articles on difficult subjects, I've developed the skills necessary to understand at least the minimum that is required to continue through the subject. Because of this, I appreciate what I've learned from reading and writing countless short stories, elaborative essays, and reading books on subjects I am interested in.

I fell in love with writing because it was my happy place. It was a place where I could never be judged for things that I wanted to say and how I wanted to say them. Times when I would be judged on my writing is when it’s a graded essay and those graded essays used to burn my pride and soul; I never failed them, but the teachers always had to point out my mistakes sometimes it would anger me. But, I concluded that being a writer is never easy and the only way to get better at it was to soak in as much information I could so, I wouldn’t make those same mistakes

Writing was the ultimate stress reliever when I was growing up. With the ballet, violin and tennis lessons in addition to the endless amount of school homework, writing was like an oasis to me, something that kept me going when I was struggling to manage my daily activities. I would write about almost anything: places I would like to travel to, short stories for fictional characters whom I drew inspiration from characters on television, and even creating stories with me as the main character to spice up my mundane life. The rush of adrenaline when I came up with a new idea, the sense of satisfaction I felt when I read through my essay and the joy I felt when my family and friends enjoyed reading my stories were just few of the many reasons why I loved to write. However, I started to despise writing because of the lack of confidence in the quality of my essays when I started middle school. The constant worry of needing to write an essay in a particular format to get a good grade and the inability to accurately pen down my ideas on paper made me lose my interest in writing completely.

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.

Fahima woke up before her alarm went off. Today was a big day. It was her first day as a second grader at her new school, East Pennsboro Elementary. She got out of bed, brushed her teeth, got dressed, and put on her headscarf.

I cannot imagine writing in my life without thinking about the wonderful experiences I have with it. Writing has helped me express my thoughts clearly with so much freedom to express my opinion. My desire for writing started in my first-grade class, when my teacher introduced us to daily log journals. I would be enthusiastic when we had to write in our journal, I would keep writing in my journal until my teacher told us to stop multiple times. I would write in my log proudly with several grammatical and spelling errors. On top of that, I was impatient to read my story to the class every day, because I felt so proud. After that, I would give it to my teacher to grade, I loved seeing her face every time she chuckled while reading my errors in my writing. I felt very proud every time she put a little check next to my story.

Writing is powerful. It gives us freedom to be the illustrator of our own imagination. While growing up I would write until my hand was sore, through schooling, teachers and different experiences I lost my love for writing. Now I have to give myself a mental pump up, before picking up a pencil, or sitting down to write a paper. My journey through writing is a rocky one, with accomplishments and detriments. I cherished writing growing up, I lost that desire, I have strengths and weaknesses as a writer, and I hope that I can regain the love I once had for writing, in this class.

Throughout my childhood I loved to read and write so when my teachers would mention writing assignments I would get excited because I had the mentality of always writing something new and interesting. During elementary school I was a smart straight A student and my teachers loved me because they were amazed of my reading and writing skills. And the reason to always being on top of my reading and writing skills was because of my parents they had always influenced me to push myself and exceed. They wanted me to pursue the goals I had because they saw my passion for reading books and for school.

Today is the first day of my sophomore year. This will be a great year! I think to myself as I get on my bus. The bus ride was always my favorite part of the day. Even though it was bumpy and loud. I mostly sit in silence, but this year i’m gonna put myself out there. I stand up so I could put my feet under me at the third stop. Glancing around i see a lot of people who were in the same grade as me. None of them knew me.

Writing provides an outlet for careful thought and expression. Ever since I was young, I have always been exposed to the world of reading and writing. I started of creating stories about my friends and our imaginary adventures and now I am analyzing the effects of discrimination to the American Dream. Writing allows you to go places and consider circumstances that you may not have otherwise done. For me, I had the opportunity to grow up in a house that loved the art and beauty that came from a good book or written piece. My dad a history teacher turned librarian would always bring home books that he thought would peak our literary interest while my very English mother always enjoyed reading a good Jane Austin with some tea every chance she was given. I will have to admit, reading was always my favorite part about English. However, in my later years I have come to appreciate the art that goes into a written piece. The sitting and tapping of pens or feet as you wait for a point to form in your head that will catapult your mind over any writer’s block. The feeling when you have finished a piece and you are satisfied with it has always brought me joy.

It’s warm and sunny in Webster, Tennessee. The day is August 16, 2017. To most of the town, it is just another day of the usual life. But to the children, the air is filled with dread. Tomorrow is the day that school starts. The young children are excited to show off all their new school supplies and summer scars. The older children dread going to school and seeing all the people they avoided over the summer. One thing is true for both ages: school is starting and there is nothing they can do to stop it.

“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.

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

On a stormy Monday morning, a girl wakes up and barely drags herself out of bed and forces her small feet across the hallway and into the bathroom. The girl steps on top of her step stool and stares back at the mirror. With tired eyes she stares at the dark skin, dark eyes, and dark cornrows covered with her favorite colorful hair beads, looking back at her. She smiles at her rainbow colored hair and shakes her head with a giggle as she hears the beads shake around, going about her morning routine as usual. She brushes her teeth with her Disney princess toothbrush, showers, gets dressed and gets ready for another day.

It was my final week before summer break came to an end. I hated being the only child, living with my parents, who needed to prepare for the commencement of school. But, what made that thought even worse was having to attend a brand new school. The physical portion of everything was already finished. To start off, I ironed my clothes, bought school supplies, and organized each piece of material I’d need to use on my first day. On the flip side, I was not mentally organized for this new chapter in my life. Being a skinny African American that stands 6 feet tall didn’t help either. Ignoring the burden of wanting to fit in, I finally executed my final task that night, sleeping. The next day, August 17th, started the 2015-2016 school