Growing up I was known to be a very shy child. I was too scared to talk to anyone and I was very reserved. I always have cared about what people thought about me. I didn’t want to wear “boy” clothes because I worried kids would make fun of me. I didn’t even make close friends until fifth grade. When I did finally feel comfortable at school and found amazing friends, I decided to switch schools shortly after for a chance at new opportunities. It lead me to standing alone in a crowded high school while I waited for that first bell to ring, so I could head to my first period class. The part of my first day of high school that made me the most nervous was my lunch period. I hadn’t made any connections with anyone, so I had no idea where I would sit. I walked into the cafeteria and it was a zoo. There were kids filling the tables and standing along the wall waiting for their lunch. It may have been a small school, but I felt like there were hundreds of high schoolers in there. I stood there completely lost in a sea of kids and I felt like panicking. I had no clue where to go. I seriously considered hiding in the bathroom to eat my lunch. A girl was standing nearby and noticed how disoriented I looked, “Hey, do you need a table to eat at for lunch? You could eat lunch outside with my friend and I.” Relief rushed over me and I nodded my head. We introduced ourselves to each other, while we waited for her friend to appear. Everyday I would go to a table outside with them and
Just walking into the school was overwhelming. Compared to my previous school, it was massive. Everyone already had friends from their previous two years in middle school. The system of changing rooms for every class was alien to me, so of course, I got lost quite a bit. Further complicating the matter was the fact that there was a different schedule every other day. I didn’t realize that until first period on the second day of school, when a rather unfriendly girl told me to get out of her seat.
If given the ability to travel back in time to my first day at Westside High School, and I was able to change my high school experience with advice to my freshman self, I would leave him with these five pieces of advice: sit on the right side of the gym, get involved with a team sport, study/do homework, be more cynical of the people he considered his “best” friends, and enjoy the underclassman years as much as possible. I wouldn’t want to completely remodel my high school years because I am pleased with how things turned out for me. However, it would be arrogant to say that I wouldn’t change a thing, and that I did everything right the first time around. If given this opportunity, I would do my best to tell myself said things in order to create a better version of myself. A version that is more (1) timely, (2) goal oriented, (3) responsible, (4) college prepared and (5) perspicacious.
rst days are always nerve racking. Whether it is the first day back to school, or the first day at a new job. But nothing is more terrifying then your first day of high school. And you can quote me on that. I remember my first day of high school like it was 3 and ½ years ago. I had a horrible night’s sleep. I woke up to the sound of my alarm buzzing by my head. Hauling my lifeless and tired body out of my bed, I put on my glasses as I made my way to the bathroom. I did my usual morning routine, knowing that this time was different. This was leading up to my first day. Finishing up, I returned to my bedroom where I had laid out my uniform nice and neat (something that I wouldn’t do for the next 3 and ½ years). I had my crisp and clean white polo shirt, my lovely grey pants, and most importantly, my navy colour vest with the school logo on it. As I put on my uniform, I knew I was one step closer to walking through the doors of high school. After a quick look in the mirror, I made my way downstairs to the kitchen, where my parents were sitting. Grabbing a bowl and a spoon, I poured myself some cereal and milk (most likely Froot Loops). Could this be my last bowl of cereal, or was I completely over exaggerating what may happen to me in high school? I would soon find out.
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.
Freshman year I remember walking into the school mortified, thinking that everything and anything that could go wrong would. I had never attended a Liberty-Benton School and knew about five people that would be in my grade. I was shy and quiet because I didn’t know any of the new faces. I was insecure about myself and thought that it would be almost impossible to make friends. Before high school, I went
Anyone of us who has ever attended at school, we will surely never forget the first day at school. For me, I still remembered my first day at school because that is a memorable day in my life. Also, that was a special day because it was the first day that I discover a new environment around me. There are many things I had never known in this new environment, so I felt very nervous because I did not know anything. Furthermore, in my heart, I feel eager to explore the surroundings and excited to get familiar with new friends. In addition, I can learn a lot of new things at school which helped me expand my knowledge.
We flew through Japanese and English, and before we knew it was lunch. At recess Iris ordered a lunch order (which took her like 3 hours to decide). So we went to pick it up. Then we went to sit on the bench closest to the year 7 area.
“You need to surround yourself with people who care about you. Who challenge you to grow. Who make you happy and appreciate all that you have to offer.” The message rang in my head as my mother offered me this advice, in attempt to quell my fear of not fitting in the night before my first day of high school. I was often scared to be myself. Being a persistent Asian with nothing but frequent late nights studying intensely to keep up, young male dancer, and closeted gay teenager were all facets of my identity that did not sit well in the minds of middle school bullies. However, my high school experiences brought me to realize that by integrating myself in a community of passionate individuals, I thrived immensely and found myself growing every day. Today, I no longer fear being unapologetically Marcus. With a profound clarity, I envision myself continuing my journey of self-improvement by studying at Carnegie Mellon as a design major.
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.
Here it is! My first day of freshman year at Osseo-Fairchild High School. Being that I come from a small town, I do not get a brand new high school. Today, I literally move upstairs. It´s like moving into a new room in your house, you are still in the same house, just a new room. Along with the move, we acquired several new teachers. I had known them for a significant portion of my life, so they weren’t new to me, just more people inside the sea of monsters handing out homework. I begin walking up the stairs to go to my new locker, number 265. As I ascend the staircase, it feels as though a cloud of perfumes and axe ,trying to mask the prepubescent body odor of stinky middle schoolers, has been lifted off of me. I can for once actually smell clean, fresh air, and by that I don’t mean the many assortments of Febreze scattered throughout the middle school classrooms. Trying to find my new locker becomes a struggle unto itself. Although our school is small, the rows upon rows of lockers seem like a maze. There it is! Locker 265, disappointingly smaller than mine from last year, in fact it’s half the size! My backpack, heavy as a rock, falls to the ground, along with my dance team duffle bag, and pom poms among other locker decoration necessities. A feeling of dread comes over me, how will I ever fit all of these things into my locker? It’s impossible! At that moment I remembered that I can easily throw my duffle bag into my dad’s office. Luckily, my dad
The fumy smell of permanent marker lingered in the air as I stared at the big red ‘F’ written across my returned paper. I looked over at my teacher, as she continued around the room, and was met with an icy cold stare of contempt. It didn’t seem to matter how good it was every essay I wrote was returned with the very same marking and without the slightest feedback. This was my rude introduction to writing, at the high school level, and one I wouldn’t soon forget. It is an experience that remains etched deep in memory.
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
I cried and cried but my mom insisted, “You have to go.” I whined back, “ I don’t want to!” Everyone was already in the car ready to go, and I refused to leave my home for eight hours without my mom there with me. I eventually gave in and got in the car with my older sister, and brother.
It was two weeks before my first day of highschool when I started my first college class. I was signed up for an American History class to see what college would be like. My school tried to talk me out of enrolling in the P.S.E.O program because of how many high school freshmen fail classes in their first semester. The school’s suggestion was that I should wait until I was a Junior because then I would be ready for the difficulty of college classes. However, what my counselors didn’t tell me was that most of the freshmen who fail in P.S.E.O classes fail because they don’t know how to study for the tests.
Everyone always says how everything changes in high school. You’re treated with more responsibility and more homework, just more of everything. There is a big transition from junior high to high school. The thought of entering high school for me was exciting and scary all at once. The fact that I’ll be with all of the big kids was pretty scary and being in high school and being a part of it was exciting.