My First Day Of Class

1.Contact with members of the lower castes always reminded him painfully of this physical inadequacy

Walking into my first day of class, I expected nothing more than a boring lecture and simple assignments that would require little to no effort. I was under the impression that this class was only going to be a waste of my time (since I only enrolled in it to satisfy my minor), and I started the semester anticipating that my success in this course would be a cakewalk. Much to my surprise, I was introduced to a professor who displayed a passion for social work and a class full of peers who had a wide range of passions, from international adoption to addictions counseling. From then on, I was sure that my initial impression of Interviewing and Documentation was incredibly off base.

It was Tuesday, September 8th and it was the first day of college class. It was a long Labor Day weekend and on the first day I had writing on my schedule. My writing skills are not that great but I was looking forward to improve my skills. Writing was the last class of my day and I was running late. I had to rush to north quad all the way from south quad, it seemed far away because I didn’t know my way around campus. As I got there, I sat down and our teacher discusses the basics of what writing 100 would cover. I also checked out the syllabus and the first official writing assignment was due the following week. I was nervous, but I saw that it was an interview so it couldn’t be that bad. I called my mom and told her I was going to interview her for my writing class. She was excited that I asked her but not thrilled about doing some schoolwork. I emailed her 6 questions to answer and she responded the next day with the following:

A bright but cold morning January in 2014, I woke up early, I jumped and smiled because it was my first day of school. First I went to take a shower; I thought, “What I would do in school today, who will be my teachers". Then I walked to the bus stop people looked at me like I'm not from this planet. I sat on a tree trunk waiting for the bus. The bus arrived after 15 minutes, I aboard the bus. The driver was a woman she was wearing a black shirt and brown pants. She told me “ Do you have the paper that shows that you have permission to go to school in a school bus” I stared at her and said “ No English”. A very good girl who was blonde hair translated into Spanish what the woman was telling me, "thank you" I said to her. Finally, I gave

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.

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.

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.

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 remember the day so vividly, like it was yesterday. My family and I lived in a small, two story house, in the middle of town. I woke up that morning, for my very first day of school. I got out of bed and walked past my little brothers room, then past my parents and to the bathroom. I showered, brushed my and then my teeth. I walked back to my room and got ready for my first day of school. I had just turned three and my mom wanted to put me in preschool right away. I walked down the spiral staircase, ( my favorite part of the house). When I got down stairs my mom was making breakfast. My little sisters and brother awake, with my mom down stairs waiting for me. My younger brother and sister were waiting at the table for me.

It was the first day of school for Grace, as she entered the doors of her high school she was officially a senior. When she got into her first class of the day she noticed a new kid, while the teacher was doing attendance she figured out that his name was Ivan. He was a tall, muscular kid with brown hair, he fit in well as people were talking to him. Some guys that Grace knew had convinced the new kid to do football. When they had their first game Grace was sure to come. She came with a friend of hers named Beca. “Why did you want to come to the game?” asked Beca, “you have always hated football.” As the game continued Beca could see Grace’s eyes following the new star player who she had met from first period in school. As the year kept going, Grace and Ivan started hanging out. She started to realize that she liked him, and that Friday, at their school’s homecoming game, Ivan asked her out.

I was born and grew up in Vietnam. I went through a lot of hard time in reading and writing back then, even in my mother language. There were some experiences which made me think that writing was a nightmare. Fortunately, I could graduate from high school. Then, I moved to the United States two years ago, and I had to face the new challenges. I had to go to the college where I had to read, write and communicate in English. Before I went to school, I always thought that how I could write an English essay while I could not even write a good Vietnamese essay, and how I could communicate with others. I became more stressful when the first day of school was coming up. However, after I finished the ESL classes, I realized that my attitude in reading and writing was changing little by little.

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.

A bright but cold morning, January 2014, I woke up early, jumped out of bed and smiled because it was my first day of school. First I went to take a shower; I thought, “What would I do in school today, who will be my teachers”? I walked to the bus stop, people looked at me like I'm alien with five heads and with a large nose. I sat down on a tree trunk waiting for the bus and the bus arrived after 15 minutes, I aboard the bus. The driver was a woman she was wearing a black shirt and brown pants. She told me “ Do you have the paper that shows that you have permission to go to school in a school bus” I stared at her and said “ No English”. A good girl seating behind the bus driver translated into Spanish what the bus driver asked

The morning of my first day of school was warm and quiet...until I got to school. The day that my parents tried to send me to the vile place, known as Jasper Preschool, was a nightmare. My dad and I shared an unbreakable unity. I loved spending my care-free days with him.  There was no way I wanted to be taken away from my loving family--even seven gruesome hours. So, preschool didn’t even stand a chance, in fact, I wasn’t even there a week.   My parents ended up waiting another year, where they put me into kindergarten with Ms. Hankins. She was nice, but she was nothing like Dad.  School was horrible up until the third grade with Ms. Hudson, where I began to learn the true meaning of school.

A bright but cold morning, January in 2014, I woke up early, I jumped and smiled because it was my first day of school. First I went to take a shower; I thought, “What I would do in school today, who will be my teachers". Then I walked to the bus stop, people looked at me like I'm not from this planet. I sat on a tree trunk waiting for the bus. The bus arrived after 15 minutes, I aboard the bus. The driver was a woman she was wearing a black shirt and brown pants. She told me “ Do you have the paper that shows that you have permission to go to school in a school bus” I stared at her and said “ No English”. A very good girl who was blonde hair translated into Spanish what the woman was telling me, "thank you" I said to her. Finally, I gave the paper to the bus driver. I sat down in the first row my legs were shaking.