My Power School Report

During Junior High I had many absolutely dire problems that were constantly on my mind. My out-of-date wardrobe continuously embarrassed me. My hair would not acquiesce to any attempted hairstyle. My parents didn't understand me, my teachers were all picking on me, and nobody really liked me for me. These beliefs were all false, of course. At the time, it never occurred to me that all my concerns and volatile emotions were "normal". I never considered that while I was going through the transition from elementary school to high school, from kid to teen, that I was creating my own world-view and that I was emotionally vulnerable to every imagined slight. There was one event, though, that made me

When I was in middle school, I desperately wanted to find my place in the social hierarchy. I ultimately decided I fit in with a particular crowd that had similar interests: video games, nerd hobbies, intellect, etc. I specifically remember instances where I would express my thankfulness for this crowd I had inserted myself into. It breaks my heart thinking about it, that middle school girl that wanted to fit in so badly that she threw herself into a group that openly mocked and hurled jealous insults at her. I cannot look at that person as myself, because I am no longer her. The culmination of these false friendships and façades of fitting in occurred on the second to last day of eighth grade. I had seen the warning signs that these people were not good to me before, but I ignored them for the sake of having a place. But it was in the moment that they tore down the identity I had built for myself that the curtain was pulled back, and I saw with clarity that these people were toxic. They told me I was not smart. They told me I did not like the right

The worst year of my life was in the seventh grade. It was a time of unforgettable and painful moments which took place throughout the school year. This taught me a significant lesson. The summer before seventh grade, my parents informed me that it would be beneficial to join a sport. When I did not find one that interested me, the color guard was counseled to me; which to be honest, I resented. My mother had a strict policy that once an activity is started it must be continued throughout the entire season; for this reason, I did. My color guard instructor was one of the most bounteous woman I knew. Moreover, she was an admirable and gracious woman who cared deeply about her students. When school started, I was a self-effacing, lonesome girl,

When my mom would send me off to school, nobody ever liked the new guy. I felt so scared, and awkward.I was bullied because of the color of my skin. I tended to be a little darker not only because of my roots but because long hard hours working with my dad after school. Resulted of me having sun burns. I was called every name in the book,and it was tough for me. Having to go to school and get treated like an old rag was already enough to what I would come home everyday with. I’d just get home and right away start working with my dad just to start giving us some income. I had to get used to this type of work everyday for the rest of my life. I wasn't so sure even if I even wanted to keep going to school. I mean I was already not caring for school and working with my dad after school. I wanted to drop out. To leave everything behind. I didn't need to keep going. I was a nobody. Nobody wanted me. My classmates told me so many times. I started to believe

For two years I begrudgingly walked into Fuller Middle School, sometimes staying home because I had a ‘headache,’ my home, as well as other places I was always resentful, pissed off, quick tempered, and just downright rude. I was a typical middle schooler going through family changes. I wore band tees and ripped skinny jeans to every event my mother would let me--including to school, I constantly violated dress coded until I found my way around authority and the policy, listened to heavy metal, colored my eyeliner on until I looked like a panda, and generally tried to make myself appear unapproachable. That’s when my mom began dating the man who I would eventually call my first lifeline.

Being a freshman, in a new school, a new city, even a new state, frightened me going into my first day of school as a high school attendee. Chaparral High School in Phoenix, Arizona was considered to be the top high school in the state of Arizona, however it sure was not for me. There was an ample amount of kids who believed they were better than the kid next to them because of the money their parents possessed. This characteristic began to grow on me; without my own awareness. Furthermore, I began to talk back to my parents, acted as a terrible brother to both my two younger brothers who looked up to me, as well as, my friends back in El Paso, Texas did not even want to talk to me. I had become a monster in all my friend’s eyes.

It was all downhill from elementary school. No, my grades didn’t drop and I didn’t become a street rat, but socially, junior high single handedly ruined my social life. But from before I even stepped foot on the premises, I was destined to an awkward, mute, and sidelined three years: seventh grade, eighth grade, and freshman year. My elementary school, Central Road, was made up of two groups of kids, those who would go to Carl Sandburg, and those who would go to Plum Grove; and my tight knit group of friends would be cut in half when it came time for the split. Although there was more than 100 students who would be moving on to one of these schools, I was one of only 20 who would be attending Plum Grove starting in the fall. Of course, my

In 7th grade I was unfocused, unprepared, and childish. I didn’t know my grades would have an impact on my high school career. I thought everything that happened in middle school stayed in middle school so I focused on useless drama. I used to blame my C’s on bad teaching but now I realize I have no one else to blame but myself. I was the one coming to school unprepared to work not my teachers. Now I know all of my grades count. I have blossomed into a person I am proud of. This year I’ve made it my mission to actually pass not just get by. I now sit promptly in the front of the class and take notes. I focus on test scores and grades not drama that’s not even going to matter next week. I now know what’s important and what I should just leave

At Dodge City High School I was in many activities such as The Pride of Southwest Kansas, varsity tennis, drill team, enriched learning, and many other honors classes, I was even the president of the decoration committee my junior year. After my sophomore year I added another egg to my basket, and was hired at my first job. With my first job I helped my mom by getting my own phone, paying for the bill, and buying my own items and necessities. But with all these activities and work, I started to get tired, but more than anything, I got lazy, and careless. I started to spend more time procrastinating and doing things last minute. I started showing up late to class which led to not even showing up at all. At this point in my life, everything was going down hill. I got dismissed from drill team, I went from first chair in the band, to dead last, and my grades reflected my attendance. I pushed everything to the side and blamed it on “senioritis”. I thought I was doing everything right and I did what I wanted, but it wasn't until I got called down to the office for a meeting, that I realized that I was putting to shame every effort and all the time my mom spent on raising

Junior year was the year that I was elected at Konawaena High School's Student Body Corresponding Secretary and the junior class Vice President. With these two major responsibilities, I found it difficult to balance the duties of an officer, school assignments, and having a job. I found myself prioritizing my roles as an officer over my school work, which you can only imagine did not work out so well. Throughout the school year I realized that I almost became a zealot about student activities, and this is where things in my social life went wrong, or so I thought. Friends of mine since the very beginning starred to become nothing but familiar faces, and soon enough, nothing but memories. I then began looking at the priorities of my "friends" and the priorities that I had for myself. They did not seem to match up. I soon found myself with a new group of people on

I was one of the tallest people in my grade, and was super skinny. With my mild Cerebral Palsy, I had speech problems for a long time. Due to all of this, I didn’t exactly fit in. Every day as I walked in the doors, I would completely shut down. My grades fell, and I blocked most of the world out. I could here the “popular” groups whispering and giggling every time I walked in the hall and notes would be passed around in class. I sat at a table in the corner by myself, I didn’t have any friends in

I attended a small charter school in Westland, Michigan. Between these walls, I broke and regained my pieces. My cultural difference set me apart from most of the kids - my accent, the way I dressed and the way I behaved. Social interaction with my peers were difficult because they didn’t know how to connect with me. When they did try to communicate, the conversation always provoked me. For instance, during the first week of school my table partner introduced herself and so did I. She asked where I was from and when I answered she was stunned. She later informed the rest of the class and for the rest of the day I was bombarded with outrageous questions like: Do you guys live in trees? How did you go to school? I felt so diminish as my peers indirectly stated their thought about people like

The summer before I started 7 grade, was long and intimidating. I threw an end of the year party and my friends and I were playing outside. My friend Sia was jumping on the trampoline and she became frustrated with a soccer ball so she kicked it off and it landed right into the fire pit. Ever since then, my friends and I have joked that the flaming ball represents our junior high experience. There have been numerous accounts of where I have fallen up the stairs like a few days ago, went to the wrong class or made a complete fool of myself, especially in math class. 7 grade was just the beginning of two gruesome years at the junior high. At first it was an intimidating school, which I thought had secret hallways and now I can stroll down the halls without being afraid of some teacher screaming at me or students towering over me. Although, I guess students still tower over me so not much has changed. I’ve learned from my numerous mistakes, became a better student and person overall in the past 2 years.

My public high school had misbehaved students and kids who didn’t care much about school. This resulted in the school having a poor academic system, although I did well it didn’t do a good job of preparing me for what was next. I attended Trevor Day School which at the time was a top 50 private school in New York City. They were granted the privilege of being on this list by having great teachers, a good learning environment, and one of the most rigorous curriculums in the city. This was a very cutthroat society that I had yet to encounter. As expected it was a drastic change, everyone was wealthier than me, there was racial tension, and in some ways it felt as if these kids were somehow smarter than me. Nonetheless, I had yet to realize that they weren’t in fact smarter than I was they just obtained the necessary tools to succeed in such an environment. I was one of the only colored guys in the school and I was on the basketball team. It was obvious that I was on financial aid and many people thought that I was granted with too much and I would fail off. Up until this point in my life I earned everything I received, but this was different; this time it was given to me. Therefore, with a lot given to me there would be a lot expected of me. I knew this prior to arriving at school, there were already a lot of eyes and pressure on

The transition from middle school to high school was difficult for me. I’d gone to very a progressive middle school where the students basically got to choose their own curriculum. I’d never had grades or a standard structure of any kind to measure my academic performance. Saint Mary’s, my high school, is college prep so the teachers move quickly, I am graded on everything, and expectations in general are much higher. For all of ninth grade I felt like I had been tossed into the deep end without knowing how to swim, and my grades reflected that mentality. Summer before tenth grade, I knew I couldn’t continue performing so poorly, so I began to study and to try and get a jump start on the next year’s curriculum. When school started I put much