My Private School Experience

Students in the classroom come from a variety of backgrounds. Their lives are shaped by their families, their communities, but also their peers in school whom they will spend hours a day with throughout their educational career. The ability to form relationships with others, to create lasting friendships that grow and evolve with time, is detrimental to all children and their development. Lacking the ability to do so, whether it is directly because of their conditions or because of how other students perceive them, can dramatically harm them emotionally and mentally.

As we pulled up to the massive elementary school building, I begged my mom to let me stay home from school, just once. As usual, she said no. Realizing my attempt to get out of school was futile, I shouldered my backpack, swung open the door, and trudged over to the front door. I would rather be anywhere else than here. For the majority of my life, I attended public schools. It wasn’t rare for me to fail a test or even a whole class. It was because of these failures that I would get even more demotivated and threw away the idea of working hard or completing quality work altogether.

Students who are becoming freshmen often ask “what’s it like to be in high school?” High school is not what you think. Freshmen don’t get pushed in lockers, there's not that one popular girl who shoves other students books out of their hands, and the cafeteria is not the most embarrassing place to be. High school is not an amicable. If you really think high school is a amicable place where students smile at each other, think again. Here is some advice from my high school experience.

Lynda Barry's writing demonstrates to the reader that schools are more than just institutions that provide learning spaces. Ideally, every kid in a classroom should be living a happy life outside of school. But in reality, this is seldom the case, and some kids are living a rough time at home. Family values are fundamental to a kids' development, yet every day it seems families get disoriented with disputes life troughs in their paths. Forgetting of what truly is important. The school is like a second home to some kids. Barry's essay demonstrates this by explaining the effect school had on her. As a result, she sees the janitor in which she is delighted to see and quickly sparks a smile on her face. Another example is when she sees her teacher Mrs.LeSane and goes up to her and cries. Finally, the last case is the therapeutic value of art Mrs.Lesane believed on.

I walked down the hallways, I was quiet and I kept to myself. I desperately needed something my school seemed to lack- personal space. How bizarre of me to dislike being touched by the skin of another student, who were all practically strangers that would come by in waves, or to get hit by a backpack that was poorly resting on some distraught shoulder. Students were quickly filling the hallways, a mob beginning to tear down the walls, making it difficult to see beyond my own two feet. You see, I've come to the conclusion that no matter how quickly I race out of class at the sound of the bell, I always will get caught in the crowd. It's inevitable. Everyone is always packing themselves into the halls, with no consideration for others, leaving little to no space to get by.

At Hazelwood High School, they do things differently than at my school. At Hazelwood, most of the people worry about themselves and nobody else. Most of the school doesn’t get good grades and the school does not do anything about it. One day in English class Andy walked out when they were reading Macbeth because it was too emotional for Andy to handle. His friends were concerned and told the school counselor. They said, “But… but… it seems like… like… he needs help or somethin’.” Then the counselor said, “Well, I probably shouldn’t tell you boys this, but he is getting some outside counseling… So you boys can relax and be assured that he is getting whatever help he needs”(100). At Harrisburg High School, if someone had an issue like that, the counselors and teachers would be concerned, even if the person was getting outside help. Another thing about education that is different than mine is the school. In Ronda’s English homework, she wrote, “Our school building must have been built about a million years ago, because it was brown and tall and raggedy-looking, but it fit right in with the rest of the day”(16). At my high school, we are very fortunate to have a very new building to learn inside of. At Hazelwood High, they were not fortunate enough to have a new high school be built. Culture and education are very important pieces of people’s

I am from a middle-class family from Nepal. I never had an opportunity to go to private school because my parents couldn’t afford tuition fees of a private school. However, my parents’ weak financial condition didn’t stop me from getting an education from a public school. There were few public schools funded by the government and they were not as good as private schools. I went to The Rising Village School, which was better than other public schools. Most of the public-school lacked good buildings, quality teachers, quality teaching materials, diverse courses, and they are overcrowded.

1. Provide a short description of your high school experience. How have you grown/evolved from 9th grade to this point? List some of the highlights of your high school career.

At my prestigious private school, for the three years of my attendance I heard students complain of how much they disliked it, including myself. It wasn’t that we didn’t appreciate the amazing education we were receiving. For private school kids, we were actually pretty good about recognizing how lucky we were. No, instead of hating school for the homework or difficult classes, we each complained about our peers and their exclusivity, the malicious gossip, or how we wished that everyone could forget their notions of who we were and let us break the mold we unconsciously formed for ourselves in middle school. In such a small school, the self-conscious, immature version of yourself from childhood followed you around long after you even vaguely resembled it. People still felt the sting of the sarcasm I had used to defend myself years before. Though I had long since become a kind, sincere person, I was remembered for the instances when I had been the

My alarm shrieks piercingly through the air, and my eyelids fly open. I carelessly toss my covers aside, and begin my morning routine. Five minutes before my bus arrives I begin to rush out of the house. “Don’t forget I’m picking you up at school early today so we can go to Miami,” my mom reminds me on my way out. “Sure, okay,” I toss back at her and close the door. Just like any other school day, I traveled the day with laughs, semi focusing in classes, and other teenage fanatics. Like in most high schools, when inside the school walls there is this false sense of security that overcomes each student. Most believe that nothing can hurt them, and that nothing will happen. Failing to realize that no one is invincible and things can change at the blink of an eye. As the day proceeds, I approach my least favorite class, Biology. There was never a day that I didn’t complain about how much I hated that class and how I could not wait to leave. But today was different; It wasn’t as dreadful because this would be the period that my mom would pick me up. Fifteen minutes later, I was back to my old ways, whispering “I cannot wait to get out of here!” to my neighbor who felt the same way I did. Finally, I heard over the loud speaker: “Roshonda Bissainthe to the office” and a smile creeped across my

The distance I unintentionally created with my classmates incited much hostility, and they shed their masks as they realized my existence was insignificant. I only confessed my sorrow to the sofa as the concept of bullying was unfamiliar. At this point, I was not only in conflict with my parents and peers, but also with myself.

The school day was another excuse to cover my insecurities and vulnerability, an extra eight hours to be someone else. In the classroom, I wasn't always the fragile, powerless child my parents saw in me; in the classroom, I was this confident person who wasn't afraid to speak or take action. They were two separate people, and I strived to keep them far away from each other.

When I walked that day into the school, I felt hatred from the surroundings. Teachers, students, and counselors looked at me like I’m the enemy. It wasn’t literally that, but that’s what I sensed. My experience in the Elementary school and in the middle school was daunting. I wasn’t a student that wanted to learn, educate, and enhance. School was a nightmare for me. I hated to go there nor even do anything that is related to it; It didn’t mean anything to me. I lacked improvement, and self-assurance, because I used my life for joyfulness and dissipate. The absence of good grades made my relations with everyone defective and I didn’t feel jubilant with it, until that day came.

It’s my last week at Jefferson and I am ready to go to Riverton.I really just started thinking about what am I going to do.Let me explain Jefferson is a non private school, you have to wear uniforms, and is one of the schools on the list of most fights.Jefferson had cops and security officers, that patrol the school at all times.

For the past six years, I have had the opportunity to work in private schools in a low income urban community, which has given me a deeper understanding of the challenging situations kids go through in the hands of single parents. Not only that, but having done my national service in a predominantly low socioeconomic district, where I sometimes had to walk for miles to work, is obvious of the educational injustice kids in low income communities go through. This is because during my national service, I saw kids whose parents could not afford just a single exercise book. There were also inadequate teaching and learning materials and kids sometimes had to sit under trees to Learn, whiles kids in urban schools enjoy comfort in their schools.