My Last Year In High School

Throwing is the one of the few things you could say that I am successful at. I have been around the sport and great throwers all my life. The hardest thing is knowing I will never reach my goals like they did. I have been throwing since the seventh grade. For some reason my dad never had me throw before then and I kind of wished that he did. I wish that I had started throwing sooner so I could have been a better thrower from the start. I still remember my first track meet like it was yesterday. The night before my dad had told me that he wanted me to be the best and would not accept anything else. Well, being twelve at the time that was a lot of pressure. I was already stressed out because my very first track meet was the next day. It was not like volleyball and basketball when my first game or match had been done way back in elementary school.

When I was about ready to spin I said to myself let's get it out there. So when I threw it I put everything I had to make it go far. I looked over at the board and saw 107.5. I went over to my grandpa, he was so happy for me making it to state as a freshman. I made it to finals with my 107.5. We were suppose to wait for the other division to get done so we could start the finals. Then we seen lighting, they would not let us finish and had to wait the next day to continue. The next day was the finals and it was a beautiful day. I had 3 throws in the finals and took my time on all three. My last throw was 109”!!. I was so happy. I went up to my family and they all gave me a hug. People were coming up to me and saying, Wow!! 7th place for a freshman that’s amazing When it was time to go up on the podium as a freshman getting 7th place in state was so awesome. There I was standing up on the podium. Hearing people cheer for you when you get you metal was so amazing Going up on the podium I was so proud what I accomplished, and work for this season I saw my family up in the stands cheering me on. Finally what I been working for the whole season, meeting my

The coach made us run extra harder, which many people did not enjoy. I ran thinking, if I run hard enough, I will run the greatest 2-mile, the distance we have to run in the league finals, I have ever ran. We would run intervals, 1 lap, 2 laps, 3 laps, 4 laps, and vice versa. We would also run up and down stairs and run track laps until we felt like puking. The week passed by fast as we practiced, and the league finals was just up ahead now. The weekend before the meet, wasn’t much, but for most of the weekend, I had butterflies in my stomach multiplying every second the meet got closer. My dad told me not to worry, which I thought was silly, because this was a huge meet. I got a lot of rest sleeping, and finally, the day had come. The day of the cross country league

Throughout my life, I’ve been in many different sports. Basketball, baseball, football track, and golf just to name a few. Though some of these weren’t enjoyable on my part, I always stuck them through to the end. Football is the most forefront example. I never fully enjoyed playing football, so when I started football my freshmen year, I wasn’t too thrilled. The work

What felt like eternity, but in all reality had only been about an hour, it was finally time for shot put! Coach Mike was pouring so much information into my saturated mind like how I should be lifting with my hips, striking my arm out over the toe board while I released the shot put, and the most important thing he had emphasized, was that I needed to get faster. All too soon it had been time to head back home. While heading home, of course my dad wanted to talk about practice had gone, I told him that there was no way I could ever go back to basketball knowing how much throwing could hold in store for

My senior year of high school was really lonely. I had gotten into a drama filled fight with my closest friends at the end of junior year, so my senior year I was voted off the friendship island and outcasted. Sure, I probably could have attempted to fix things, but I was stubborn and insisted on isolation rather than forgiveness. It was a really hard year for me emotionally between losing some great friends and the idea of college in the back of my mind. Who was I going to be? Where was I going to go? Would I ever make anymore friends? It seemed many of my classmates were busy making memories with their friends as our high school days were dwindling down, memories they would remember forever and there I sat hidden in the background, admiring from afar. It broke my heart, and to be honest with you... it just really sucked. I tried my best to make the most of it. I spent a lot of time that year with my nose in a book. It was my own unique way of making memories that year with no one else except myself and some truly memorable characters.

When I was in seventh grade my mother, against all odds, convinced my awkward, out-of-shape self to join the football team. In spite of my initial begrudging attitudes, by the season’s conclusion, I had made numerous new friends and enjoyed the experience of playing a sport enough to join track and field that spring. Eagerly, I continued with athletics in high school, training vigorously during the off season. Like a character leveling up before a boss fight, I trained with intensity, lifting weights four times a week, gradually improving on my personal records each time until I was far stronger than I had ever been. I had heard the vague platitudes since I was a kid, but sports truly taught me the meanings of commitment and discipline. As the years passed, the brotherhood formed between my teammates and I became unbreakable. I believed without a doubt that every one of my teammates would give his all for me, and I would do the same for them. Because of athletics, I have become healthy, mentally and physically stronger, and I have friendships I will cherish

At the very beginning of my freshman year at Harris County High School, I looked at my schedule and I realized I was in Journalism. I was absolutely ecstatic; Jesus himself couldn’t make me any happier. The fact that I actually made it in made me all tingly and excited! At first I thought that Yearbook would be like every high school movie ever; all of the smart, unrecognized, but the necessary people got passes onto the football field to snap a few PERFECT pictures. Honestly, I thought every picture I took would be perfect. I never knew how to edit a picture beyond a snapchat filter, and I didn’t think I’d have to learn either. I thought every teacher would let you interview whomever you wanted, whenever you wanted. I never realized how hard choosing people to interview would be either. My biggest mistake was believing it was an easy free period.

When I started Unity High School I had a certain idea that I was not going to like the school but overall its a great school. My thought on how high school was going to be like was crowded people having a lot of school pride. How i thought to get through my first year in Unity High School was by doing all of my work being kind to others participating in class and following the classroom rules. I still do these thing because i think that they are great to start the school year with potential and not being a bad student. How i would complete my work in the beginning of the school is that when we had an assignment that was due next week i would do it that same day that they gave it to us because i thought that the teachers was going to check the

People always say that 8th grade is a tough one. There are ups and downs that no one can predict and some days are tough to get through. However, with those tough days comes some really fun and enjoyable days. Additionally, this semester, I have found out some things about myself I did not know. It is this knowledge that I take with me as I prepare for my last semester of 8th grade.

The time came when I was sitting in my guidance counselors office my sophomore year of high school. The pressure was on, I had to decide what classes to take to help me not only prepare for the ACT but that would impact my future. With the support of teachers and counselors I was able to choose and pick out difficult and challenging classes that would help me excel in the future. The list grew long, I signed up not only for my junior year classes but I also planned out my senior year schedule as well. My counselor took the time to explain to me the honors classes that were weighted, helping my GPA, and were dual credit as well. I signed up for several of the dual credit courses and weighted such as Composition 2, American Lit 1, AP U.S. History,

In my Freshman and Sophomore year of high school, I was not really involved in extracurricular activities. I did some community service hours and I joined a club. In my Junior year of high school, I started to get more involved in school activities. Such as football and soccer games. And in all honesty, I can say that Junior year has been my favorite year so far.

At the conclusion of my junior year of high school, I immediately began preparations for my final cross country season. By that point in my life, the only time I actually thought about baseball was when the New York Yankees were playing on television. Otherwise, I spent every day that summer either out running or thinking about running. I also spent a lot of time researching and reading about the history of running, different training methods, and ideas put forth by other coaches from around the world. During that summer, if someone had asked me what I wanted to do with the rest of my life, the answer would've been simple. I wanted to coach.

My senior year of high school and I still felt like a freshman. The typical freshman vibe of not fitting in due to the fact that I was a new kid in school and the majority of people had been there since junior kindergarten. These four years at Cannon School have been an emotional rollercoaster. Due to the fact that I couldn’t find any friends for the first two years. I thought that I would find a group that I could hang out with but, it didn’t seem like I was fitingt into any of the cliques. I had trouble maintaining good grades and overall, I was dealing with loss in my family and depression. As a last ditch effort to be more outgoing in high school, I decided to go to the black history performance interest meeting. The performance was about a month away. This meeting was a student led interest meeting we’re we all thought of what we wanted to do. I thought for a few minutes to see what I would feel comfortable doing. Since the only place I felt comfortable at school was in my poetry class. I decided to do poetry since that is one of the few things that I felt like I was good at, poetry at the time gave me a since of security and taught me how to be confident in my own skin, it was helping me become comfortable in my own voice. The only problem with this was I had never performed any of my poems in front of anyone before. Deciding to perform poetry in front of my school soon became one of the most important days of my life.

During my senior year at Southern Illinois University (SIU) I was selected for an extraordinary opportunity as an undergraduate teaching assistant for Introduction to Psychology. Within this position I ascertained a passion for teaching as well as a strong desire to work closely with college students. While instructing one section of this course I developed personal connections and grew quite fond of my students. One student in particular, Tamaira, was a bright, upbeat, and successful young woman doing very well in my course and a delight to have in class. However, halfway into the semester her behavior drastically changed as she was often absent, no longer participated in class, and her grades were notably lower. Upon noticing the sharp turn of events I sent her an email with my concerns along with an invitation to have a discussion. My email went unanswered. Nonetheless, Tamaira showed up to my next class. While passing out exams, she locked eyes with me and held a handwritten note on her desk that read, “when I was 15 years old I was diagnosed with bipolar and borderline personality disorder. Sometimes I get depressed, but I want to do well in your class. Please don’t give up on me.” Feeling genuinely empathetic, I said to her, “I won’t.” After class a long positive conversation ensued that served as a catalyst toward her regained emotional strength and performance. This singular event in my teaching experience has had a profound effect on propelling me toward