My Last Year Of Grade School

The first year of middle school was a year of transition into a new world. I would be going to a new school and enhance my life academically and on a social level. Looking back at that year isn’t so pleasant. My new self today, sucked in numerous amounts of life lessons that contradict the person I was in sixth grade. Sixth grade was all about fitting in for me. I just wanted to be part of a crowd and be known. I didn’t care about my academics at the moment. However, I was lucky enough to be educationally talented and not get to astray in the learning environment. Personally, sixth grade was too overloaded with drama and the drive to be high in the social rankings. If I traveled back to sixth grade, I’d sucker punch myself for getting

My eighth grade year of Middle school. I had many challenges, with making friends and subjects. But one challenge was mathematics.I knew my eighth grade year was most important when it came transferring into my high school years, yet I didn’t do anything to raise my grade in mathematics at that time. It wasn’t until two I had a very low grade in mathematics on my report card at that I realized I needed to do something about my low grade. So after that report in math, I really was determined to really bring that F up to at least a B or A. So I remember I started to go to after school tutoring to get help with my math subject. They placed me with a teacher named Ms.Alice. And she really helped me with my subject.

When junior year ended last summer, I felt like I knew exactly what was coming my way-- after all, I watched three different groups of my friends go through senior years of their own. It was finally my turn to experience senior year, something it seemed I had known about for years, and I felt like senior year would be easygoing and uneventful. Now, it has taken just a few short months to realize how incorrect I was. If senior year has taught me anything, it is that one never really knows what comes next for them, even if they have a good idea. The monumental highs, as well as the deepest of lows, have kept me on my toes throughout my senior year.

My memories are blurry. They are fragments of disjointed moments, without a linear narrative. I remember reading. It was in Mrs. Davidson first grade class. My reading proficiency skills were very poor, the English language still thick and unnatural on my tongue. While some of the other students took a Gifted class, I had to take a remedial course—English Learners (EL)— just so that I could hold onto the edge. I remember reading. I had a hard copy of The Very Hungry Caterpillar in my little hands, reciting only the first page of the book from memory. The classroom was dark; the stream of sunlight filtering through the windows served as our only illumination. The rest of the words on the book looked like a mess of jumbled letters. I couldn’t make out anything other than the words “the” and “and.” I remember enthusiastically pointing out my “fluency” to my teacher, seemingly applauding my menial abilities: “The catpater at droo!” (The caterpillar ate through). In the first-grade, my free time was spread sporadically between watching The Little Mermaid, catching ugly black crickets and pretending that I was Sailor Moon, guardian of the galaxy. In the first grade, I was not at all concerned with words, literacy and books. In the first grade, I did not know the power that words hold. I did not know that books would change my life.

Towards the end of my senior year of high school, I was preparing for the next chapter of my life. I would be attending UC Davis in the summer for a four weeklong orientation program, specifically for first generation college students. This was the first time I would be leaving home by myself to a different country and it was the first time in over eight years that I would be exposed to the American culture. I did not have any roots in any American city nor did I have a so-called “home state.” However, if there was one thing for sure, it was that Germany was my home and it has been for the majority of my life. In this paper, I will be discussing how the following topics in sociology: culture, socialization, and identity are related to my move from Germany to California as well as how I felt during the entire situation.

Every school year fifth graders face a big change from the lives they are used to. Middle School. It is our job as upperclassmen to assist these new sixth graders. These students need our advice, and help, to make sure they live out their middle school years correctly. The finest piece of advice I can give any student starting middle school is to plan out all your middle school years.

My first quarter was great! I really accomplished a lot of things and I received straight A’s on the report card so I’m pretty proud with myself. I joined Yearbook and Power of the Pen, I’m still in choir and in the band I’m first chair so a lot has happened. Being an eighth grader is different definitely! Last year I could walk down the halls and see people I knew that was older than me, but now I know a few more people than beginning of the year but still not a whole lot. When people say that they wouldn’t go back to middle school or high school, I say no because in middle school you are still a “kid” and you still are in a pretty good stage. Lunch is pretty fun too, I sit with my friends, Ellie, Sarah, and Cassidy. Classes are stressful

The years of my grade school education brings out the worst years of my learning experience. My schooling was full of teachers who doubted the students daily, administrators who thought they were better, and students who thought education ended with an high school diploma. In John Taylor Gatto’s “The Seven Lesson Schoolteacher” Gatto analyzes the school system that I have seen before my very eyes; a school system that without saying so, systemically sets children up to live under the law of the government. A system that trains children to obey and stay in the box that the system places them in.

I grew up in Scotland in a dysfunctional family and in a place where school meant strict

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.

My 8th grade year is like the song “ Don’t Stop(color the walls) “ by Foster The People.To begin with I may have small talk but big thoughts. This year I have really discovered who I want to be. If you're not one of my close friends I may seem quiet, and shy but it's really because I am always thinking, dreaming, comprehending the things in the future and past. Although it may not seem like it I want to do important things in the world, like save the planet from disaster. Secondly I'll draw until I've broken every law. Lately when i'm frustrated or sad I have found myself through meaningful art. In my basement there is a cement wall completely covered in paintings and doodles that my close friends and I created to express ourselves. That's

Sitting in the guidance office on my second day of eighth grade, I could only think, “How can this be happening to me again?” I was not there because of a scheduling issue or to plan my future, but I was there having another anxiety attack. I thought I had this problem straightened out. I had already lost a serious portion of my sixth grade year to this condition. With the aid of therapy and medication, I was hopeful my condition was under control.

The end of seventh grade year is something I’ll never forget. The February of my seventh grade year, (2013) my mom told my sister and I that we were moving back to Illinois. I thought that it was going to be a good thing and a bad thing, because I had grown up there, but I could get a fresh start here. I was bullied really badly and I didn’t really have any friends at either school I had gone to while we lived in Arizona, so I was kind of ready to just get out of that area. We found out in February, and my dad drove my sister and I back on May 28th 2013, two days after school ended. I was unsure leading up to it, because I’d never moved anywhere or anything, so I didn’t understand how it worked really, or how weird or different it would be. We started packing about half way through March, putting the things that we wouldn’t need for a while in boxes and bubble wrapping breakables. It was kind of fun and cool, but at the same time it was weird to think that I would be leaving my childhood home, I had been born in the next town and had grown up in Sanders. I mean, we’d been back here to see my grandma and my mom’s family because they all live close to this area, but I never thought that we’d live back here. I started telling people as soon as I knew, because some of the kids that went to my youth group actually talked to me sometimes, and the leader liked me, so I told them so that they would know once the time came. I told some of my teachers as it got closer as well,

My Freshman year of high school is nearing an end and I mostly stayed out of trouble, which was a great feat at the time. Until My buddy Sam and I decided to make some money off of our “hobby”. Since we were tired of running out of weed to smoke, we decided to have a bake sale. We googled how to do it and fired up the oven and ground up the weed. After about 30 minutes of baking and assembling crackers we had made three firecrackers, or peanut butter crackers with specially prepared weed in them. We both decided to do some quality control on the product and split one of the crackers and ate it. We smoked like normal and were satisfied with what we made. We discussed the plans and decided our goal was to sell both of the firecrackers tomorrow to make 20$ and get 2 grams to continue the cycle and once we are making a good amount investing in a toaster oven to be more discreet. The next day, being the smart human beings we were we smoked a bowl out of an apple at the bus stop before getting on the bus. When school started we went to gym changed, and started to sell the firecrackers. We told everyone we knew that smokes they were for sale and that they’re 10$ apiece. No buyers. 2nd and 3rd hour roll by then Sam and I went to lunch. I walked over to a table of people I knew and asked, “Does anybody want to buy some firecrackers?” One of them asked, “How much do they cost?” and I responded with “They are 10$” Joe and his friend Carl split the cost and bought one, “One down and one

This year in P.E we had a new teacher named Tyler Ray. I came into school thinking oh this teacher is going to be terrible, because I loved my old P.E teacher Miss. D, but it turned out to be my favorite year for P.E. I can safely say that I grew in my faith and my physical strength because of Mr. Ray. 8th grade was by far my favorite year of my time at GHCS, just because of my class being so fun and everyone being close which made the year awesome.