My First Day Of My Life : My Experience In Middle School

Most people remember one memory from middle school that stands out from the others. For me that would have to be my first day of middle school. I was excited because of a new school year and all the new people I was going to see. But at the same time I was also very sad because I had really enjoyed my summer and now it was over. Also, I was extremely nervous as I did not know where all the classes and more importantly how I would fit in. After all of these emotions, my first day of middle school was my favorite middle school memory.

I never thought I would be the new kid. The town I grew up in had one broken street of small family shops and restaurants. The school I went to had one hallway of classes taught by teachers I knew by first name. The house I lived in had one neighbor who lived a mile down the road, with nothing else but corn on either side. Then suddenly, it seemed like my life changed in an instant. Two years ago, I had to leave my hometown, say goodbye to the house I grew up in, and worst of all, start a new school in the middle of the year. I dreaded my first day at Logan High School seemingly more than anything ever before.

On the first day of school, I was so confused and alone. I had no one to sit with at lunch, and I felt lost. I wasn’t used to the curriculum, or all the people I never knew existed. Townsend Junior High School was bigger than the small

Sophomore year in general has been treacherous . Now it's become harder trying to manage work while studying for finals, Eoc and keeping up with work. Nowadays, I find myself wishing to be back in elementary school. A memory that has been engraved to the deepest part of my brain is one of my teachers telling me of the importance of flushing and cleaning up after the mess that I create. I can’t believe that I once thought that elementary school was difficult. Let’s ignore the fact that my English wasn’t that good in elementary school, now that I’m actually reflecting on the time that I spent in elementary school, I can truly see how simple everything was. For example, I had to write my weekly vocabulary words thrice. But, this is the real world. We aren’t given the chance to go back in time just because we wish to relive certain periods of our lives.

Although even with these passions, school exacerbated the familiar anxieties that I was incapable of success and what I had was artificial. Exhausted, I wanted to be liberated from it. Junior year I held my breath when I submitted to my first poetry contest. I signed up for Computer Science that year and Calculus BC senior year, fearful, but soothed myself I could succeed even though I felt I would

As I stared out the passenger window of my mother's black BMW that was currently halted at a red light, the reality of my forever-changed life hit me, hard. My father had, once again, charmed his way to a better position in the army with his compelling words, but everything comes with a price. This time it happened to be at the expense of my junior year. I wasn't exactly the cheerleader, but I had established a routine that I didn’t intend on changing. This adjustment was of no concern to my mother, who had never been one to argue, considering most of the people she interacted with were overseas. So, thanks to my parents, here I was on the first day of the 11th grade at Northside High School in Philadelphia instead of Atlanta, where I previously lived. The

Freshman year was a time full of hope and wonder. Things were simple back then. Essays only had to be two pages long, lunch was two hours earlier, and classes were definitely easier (and shorter). The outside changes were expected to say the least. I didn’t feel a difference the first day of school. Nor did it feel it the first week or even month. School was always something that came easy to me. What I didn’t expect was my changes mentally and emotionally.

The positive vibe of summer had subsided. Though all my classmates looked forward to the first day of fourth grade ever since the beginning of summer, I felt a form of nausea unleash itself in my body whenever the thought of school unwrapped itself in my mind. School was, in my mind, a place of suppression, where there was the negative connotation of keeping one's head down in order to succeed. It was detrimental for oneself to stick out, but I always did. Hence I hated school, and school hated me as well. However, hate by itself simply does not have the power to separate two parties destined to be together, so the first day of school came nevertheless.

It was the end of the summer of 2013 and I was about start my perilous journey through middle school. I was just a squeaky ten-year-old who was scared but felt ready for new surroundings. My extremely impressionable brain was sure middle school was everybody’s worst nightmare because that was what T.V. taught me. I was frightened but ready to take on a challenge.

Finally and, somewhat miraculously, we made it through to the middle schooling years, those years where our future plans were wrung from our tenuous ‘maybe I might like to be a …… journalist……no, wait a minute, an architect…….. no, OK, I am sure this time that I want to be a juggler in the Cirque de Soleil. By this time too, our friendship groups had probably shattered, been pieced together again and then morphed again as old friends and new ones redefined our social relationships. These years are one of the most memorable moments of our lives, because these were the years that things started to get real. We had just that little bit more freedom and sass to boot. We were finally able to choose our subjects that we wanted to do, such as choosing

Now, I know better. These three years have really shaped who I am. Even though everything isn’t permanent, it’s the moments, the little snapshots that count. Life is short; moments are fleeting, but memories last forever in the book of life. It’s a journey, and every moment has a significant impact on me. My theme is “Page by Page”, which means that I am writing my own story. Whatever has happened through these years, I have chosen my own path. We are the authors of our own life, and I’m just at the beginning. Page by page, we create the life that we live in. Even through all the hardships, my middle school years have been altogether the best experience I could ever have.

The days of having one teacher teach you English, math, science and art were over. There would now be a different teacher and a different classroom for every subject. Furthermore, there would be no recess in middle school. To me, that was the most frightening aspect of all. However, for all the alarm evoked at the thought of moving from elementary to middle school, there was an undeniable sense of excitement and adventure. We were growing up, we were moving on to the next stage in life, a stage ripe with opportunities for self-growth and discovery.

My last year of middle school, the clock ticked down and my grades descended as summer began closing in. Teachers bombarded students with final projects that seemed impossible to accomplish with such short time left. English class certainly dragged me down as I wasn 't very literate to begin with. I felt defeated by each assignment, because I failed to reach any of my teacher’s standards. With no will to write, I thought I would never find myself with an A on any of my papers. Until I encountered Mr. Thompson and Ms. Marquez, the people who showed me that my success could only be accomplished by hard work and honesty.

Have you ever seen someone being picked on for what they look like or just because the way they do something? Well that’s what happened on my first day of school.

The first day of middle school is a scary time for anyone; it signifies that you are no longer a little kid, but you’re also not a teenager. The transition from elementary school to middle school puts an adolescent in an awkward position, one that most people desperately try to erase from their memory. But what if your very first day of this three year period went down in history as one of the worst days of your life?