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. It was finally friday, days went by of me practicing for the audition, I made everyone else go first. When I finally got the courage to walk in front of everyone I belted out adele and everyone's jaw dropped. I didn't know if that was a good thing so I ran back to my seat and hit behind my desk and sat far back in my chair so I wouldn be noticed. The weekend went by and I didn't think much of the solos because I did not think I was gonna make the top 3. I walked into Mrs. Gates room feeling like my heart would stop any minute. The bell rang and Mrs. Gates walked up
1.Contact with members of the lower castes always reminded him painfully of this physical inadequacy
In order to begin I waited until lunch time, possibly the busiest time at Dobbs. I wanted to make sure I had a large group of people to experience my wonderful singing voice. I went with my friend who is outgoing but didn’t mention that I was going to be singing just to document her reaction too. After a while the crowd got really big, I started to get a little bit nervous and began regretting my decision. I mustered up enough courage and decided to just do it.
I came to Ridge Family Center for Learning in second grade. On top of being “the new kid” in school, I didn’t know anyone besides my neighbor. She had been going to this school since kindergarten and I ate lunch with her and her friends everyday. One day, as I ate my usual PB & J, she said “Are you excited for the musical?” Apparently it happens every year, yet I was not aware of this. Naturally, being a little kid, I was excited and screamed “Really? I love watching people perform!” My parents loved musicals and took me to see my fair share of them. She gave me a strange look and laughed. “You don’t get to watch. We’re performing on the stage, silly!” My jaw dropped. All I could think about was how scared I was. I was about to sing on stage in front of 200 parents.
Audition day came and I was confident enough in my work ethic and assumed I was going to advance to the next stage in the competition to become an All Stater. However, the results weren’t in my favor I came out 3rd and it motivated me to become more of an overachiever and learn my music faster. My junior year in high school I went into full gear and I prepared myself even more for the region audition. I came out first and I still remember my reaction. I was happy but still determined to become an All Stater. My area auditions came around and I was more excited than ever. I had practiced everyday of Christmas break. I went into the audition excited and confident. Finally, the results came out and I came out first chair and at that moment I knew that I wanted to do this for the rest of my
When I was in the third grade and began to take an interest in musicals, my two best friends and I decided we would perform “Popular” from Wicked in our school’s talent show. I was looking forward to having fun with my friends onstage, but secretly I was wondering what I had gotten myself into. I had so many doubts about going onstage in front of my entire school. What if they thought I sang badly? Why didn’t we use backup music? Pink is definitely not my color. It was my first time singing by myself with a large audience watching me, but nonetheless, the three of us went onstage. Regardless of what others may have thought about us, we all felt exhilarated and relieved once we were done.
I touched the microphone as the curtains opened and my nervousness kicked in. I took a deep breath and sang my heart out. It all started when I signed up for the school annual talent show. I was really excited to do it because I love to sing and I really wanted the prize you got for first place; a basket full of candy and joy.
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’s August 18th, the first day of school. Many children are not as eager to start classes, as they are to catch up with classmates after the summer. Students then begin to leave the courtyard and explore the route to their first class; memories of last year’s terrible lunch menus resurface, and schedules are then eagerly exchanged amongst friends in effort to revel in the success of the perfect schedule. Generally, first period comes equipped with the perfect group of friends, the easiest course, and most importantly, the laziest “pushover” teacher. Unfortunately, for students assigned to her classroom, this first day of school will leave a lasting impression on the minds of 30 multicultural/diverse students in tenth grade English. She opens her classroom door; the new 10th grade teachers’ walls are covered with things to look at, things to provoke inspiration. She provides an introduction, one of her person, as well as one of her classroom’s conduct and expectations; the new tenth grade teacher then asks a student to volunteer sitting in her eclectically upholstered Indian fabric bearing chair in the middle of the classroom,and with an impressionable smile says, “your turn”.
It 's funny what it 's you remember as a child. I don 't remember my third birthday or my first day of school, I don’t remember running around the playground or what my favorite food was. But I remember very clearly the day my cat died. It 's been 10 years since, and still the most memorable memory of my childhood.
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.
Ring, ring, ring, the school bell goes off. “My first day of school and I’m already late I tell myself.” As I run up to the school doors I can see all of the teachers closing their doors ready to start the day. Luckily my class is still open and I run inside throw my things in my locker and make it to my classroom just as my teachers closes her doors. It was just like any normal year but that’s about to change.
Throughout my life I experienced a lot of firsts: first words, first steps, first day of school, but nothing could ever prepare me for my first time in sin city. Out of all the places in the world that I wish to explore, I chose to visit the legendary, Las Vegas. My friends and I wanted to voyage out to this magnificent city, since it was the last summer before our senior year. The night before, my friends and I were too busy to sleep. We were planning and packing, so we would have everything ready for the next day. Even if we wanted to sleep the excitement was too much to bare and we just could not keep our eyes shut. I was excited to see how the colorful city looked in person and how it felt to be in another state. Seeing as it was everyone’s first time in Vegas, we were determined to make the trip memorable.
Since September, my AP Language experience has drastically changed paths many times. This class has challenged me mentally, yet is not the hardest and most challenging thing I have ever done. I came into the year, and the class, with a relatively open-mind, but majorly underestimated my writing abilities. Since that ill-fated September day, the first day of school, I have gained an exceptional amount of confidence when it comes to my writing abilities. Needless to say, I definitely feel challenged this year, which was much overdue. It was an adjustment from just being able to whip up an essay up from nothing, to having to critically think about what I was writing. This year, has definitely pushed me as a writer, and I feel as though I have gained a vast repertoire of writing strategies. Overall, I would rank the class at a medium level of difficulty, as I do not find it easy, but it is also not impossible. In terms of overall experiences, I am beyond satisfied with my growth and the time that is devoted to developing our skills. I was elated beyond belief when I started the year out at a 6/9, because I had doubted my abilities and did not think that was remotely achievable. Additionally, the amount of time and practice that we do to develop and maintain new skills is phenomenal, because it allows me to use all the new techniques in my everyday writing.
My alarm startles me as I get out of bed. My shades are shut, no sun shines through. My first day of school ever and the first day that I have to officially get up out of bed early. I smell the pancakes and sausage sneaking through the crack underneath my door. My first day of school and I have no clue what to wear or how to act. I go downstairs and dad automatically greets me with a hug and a smile.
On the first day of junior year I woke up bitter, tired, and angry. I knew this year would be the toughest year of my high school career and in no way shape or form was I looking forward to it. I went to school as if it were any other first day, greeting friends and trying to fight through the crowd to get to the locator list where I would find my first period teacher. After five minutes of pushing and shoving, I finally reached the front and found my name. I traced my finger along the dotted line to find “Mr. Hall”. I had never heard of this teacher before, therefore I knew this was a bad sign. The bell finally rang and junior year had officially begun. I walked into Mr. Hall’s class and I had already concluded that he was the happiest,