My School Day

On 3rd May 2017, it was a normal day at North lake college, the only difference was that it was the last class of ENGL 1301 until the final starts. As the class came to an end and all the students went out looking for different places to hang out because it was only 11:30 am and there was still time for the next class to start. As I came out, I heard three gun shots. At first, I thought it must be something else but when I saw a boy running towards me it made sense of the unusual noise in the campus. I ran to the exit gate but when I saw my classmates running in the class I followed them. We quickly locked the classroom and turned all the lights off. After ten minutes, I got a text message from my friend Monica that intruder is on the campus and one girl is already dead. When I saw the expressions of my classmate they were all scared because it seemed like a hostage situation. I kept receiving text messages from my family and

“Are we there yet, i'm starting to get hungry,” i said as we were getting off the highway. I was starting to get impatient because i had already been in the car for 3 and a half hours and my butt was starting to get numb. We pasted the biggest mall i have ever seen and it was my birthday time with my grandma, i was turning 16. My grandma was driving to Kansas City,Kansas, and hadn't seen her in since Christmas. It was the end of July and i had to call off everyday just to be able to go, but i was still really happy to be able to see her. and i was really excited to spend it with her because she is

When my family and I were in the car, my dad started singing and I was cringing so hard but, I didn't tell him anything because that would be rude. We stopped at Winco to get groceries. My brother was excited because whenever we went to the grocery store he would get a bar of candy. This time it wasn't any different, we bought the food and went to pay my job was always to put the groceries into the bags which is fun. We headed into the car and my parents loaded the groceries into the trunk. We started driving into the mall, so I could buy some shorts for summer, because all I had were pants.

I got to my first period class feeling so excited for the rest of the day ahead of me. At about third period I was in the bathroom about to head off to my band class when there was a sudden announcement that the whole school was going on lockdown and that this was not a drill. I knew I wouldn’t be able to get back to my class in time so I hid in the bathroom door. I didn’t notice anything coming in my direction so I quietly got out from the bathroom. The bathroom was a few feet away from the outside door. I looked around me and I spotted a man about 3 feet away from me. I suspected it would be one of the administrators, but the man was walking towards me in an ominous way. I instantly new that this was no administrator. I had nowhere to hide so I just made a mad dash out of the school. The mysterious man was still chasing me and there was a nearby forest right in front of me. I ran straight into it hiding behind some thick bushes. I heard the crunching sound of twigs dangerously nearby. I stood as still as

It was a saturday morning when I was getting ready to go to pv mall and hang out with a close girl friend of mine and also my goofy guy friends. It was a normal morning , I was eating my mexican breakfast . Then when I finished eating , I went to go do my hair and makeup witch take hours to do . (3)

“Beep, beep, beep…….” The alarm screamed! My chest began to pound and my hands started to sweat. I look over at the alarm clock, 7:05 a.m. and I knew today would be horrible. Waking up late is not what I wanted to do today. I ran to the shower, threw off my pajamas, and hopped in. “Burr!” I yelled, as the freezing water ran down my back. A million things began to run through my mind; will I make it to school on time, will I know anyone, what should I wear, is it going to be scary, what if the teachers are mean? Today was the big day, the day I started Miami Middle School as a sixth grader.

Being born in December, I had to start school a year later. I hated this, though I was not that much older it still bothered me. I thought everyone was judging me because of my age, and the grade I was in. However, I knew that going to high school was my chance to graduate with my class. Throughout my freshman and sophomore year I pushed myself to come out of my shell; I went to my first dance, I joined the dance club, the softball team and sung for judges. The next year I was still determined to graduate early, so during registration I pleaded my case of why I wanted to graduate early. Another reason I really wanted to graduate early was because I was turning eighteen, and being adopted I knew my mom would no longer get help for me; as far as healthcare or food assistance. I was told that there was no guarantee that I would graduate early but just in case there was an opportunity I had an alternative schedule.

It’s August 18th, the first day of school. Many children are not as eager to start classes, as they are to catch up with classmates after the summer. Students then begin to leave the courtyard and explore the route to their first class; memories of last year’s terrible lunch menus resurface, and schedules are then eagerly exchanged amongst friends in effort to revel in the success of the perfect schedule. Generally, first period comes equipped with the perfect group of friends, the easiest course, and most importantly, the laziest “pushover” teacher. Unfortunately, for students assigned to her classroom, this first day of school will leave a lasting impression on the minds of 30 multicultural/diverse students in tenth grade English. She opens her classroom door; the new 10th grade teachers’ walls are covered with things to look at, things to provoke inspiration. She provides an introduction, one of her person, as well as one of her classroom’s conduct and expectations; the new tenth grade teacher then asks a student to volunteer sitting in her eclectically upholstered Indian fabric bearing chair in the middle of the classroom,and with an impressionable smile says, “your turn”.

My alarm startles me as I get out of bed. My shades are shut, no sun shines through. My first day of school ever and the first day that I have to officially get up out of bed early. I smell the pancakes and sausage sneaking through the crack underneath my door. My first day of school and I have no clue what to wear or how to act. I go downstairs and dad automatically greets me with a hug and a smile.

Since September, my AP Language experience has drastically changed paths many times. This class has challenged me mentally, yet is not the hardest and most challenging thing I have ever done. I came into the year, and the class, with a relatively open-mind, but majorly underestimated my writing abilities. Since that ill-fated September day, the first day of school, I have gained an exceptional amount of confidence when it comes to my writing abilities. Needless to say, I definitely feel challenged this year, which was much overdue. It was an adjustment from just being able to whip up an essay up from nothing, to having to critically think about what I was writing. This year, has definitely pushed me as a writer, and I feel as though I have gained a vast repertoire of writing strategies. Overall, I would rank the class at a medium level of difficulty, as I do not find it easy, but it is also not impossible. In terms of overall experiences, I am beyond satisfied with my growth and the time that is devoted to developing our skills. I was elated beyond belief when I started the year out at a 6/9, because I had doubted my abilities and did not think that was remotely achievable. Additionally, the amount of time and practice that we do to develop and maintain new skills is phenomenal, because it allows me to use all the new techniques in my everyday writing.

Have you ever met a person that you thought was the worst person in the world, but it turns out to be a blessing in disguise. Well, that is the feeling I got the first day of the 10th grade, when I first met my new homeroom teacher. It was the first day of school, and I was super amped. I was at the High school where I wanted to graduate from. The first day started off as normal as it could be. Everyone was standing around making sure they were being seen in their new fashions. I was more excited than they were, because I was finally able to transfer to the school where all my friends from the old neighborhood attended. This was going to be the best year ever, so I thought. The 8:00 a.m. bell rang for everyone to report to their first class, and as I walked to the door there was a lady standing there smiling and telling everyone entering the door, “Good Morning”. I knew at this point there was about to be a problem. Anyone that knows me, knows that I am not a morning person.

I remember the day so vividly, like it was yesterday. My family and I lived in a small, two story house, in the middle of town. I woke up that morning, for my very first day of school. I got out of bed and walked past my little brothers room, then past my parents and to the bathroom. I showered, brushed my and then my teeth. I walked back to my room and got ready for my first day of school. I had just turned three and my mom wanted to put me in preschool right away. I walked down the spiral staircase, ( my favorite part of the house). When I got down stairs my mom was making breakfast. My little sisters and brother awake, with my mom down stairs waiting for me. My younger brother and sister were waiting at the table for me.

I was born and grew up in Vietnam. I went through a lot of hard time in reading and writing back then, even in my mother language. There were some experiences which made me think that writing was a nightmare. Fortunately, I could graduate from high school. Then, I moved to the United States two years ago, and I had to face the new challenges. I had to go to the college where I had to read, write and communicate in English. Before I went to school, I always thought that how I could write an English essay while I could not even write a good Vietnamese essay, and how I could communicate with others. I became more stressful when the first day of school was coming up. However, after I finished the ESL classes, I realized that my attitude in reading and writing was changing little by little.

“Oh of course, being late to class is always a pleasure” I kept telling myself as I made way down the maze of hallways to finally find my psychology class. Walking in I quickly looked for a place to sit and I found an empty seat in the front corner of the room. The seat was by the window, which I knew, that would come in handy if I thought the class was boring, plus it helped that nobody was sitting there except for one person. Once I placed my bag down and got myself situated, I suddenly recognized the boy sitting beside me. My anxiety took over my body and tension in the room grew thick as he turned to face me and saw the girl who had once broken his heart.

The time is 7:00 AM. At this instant I need to take a quick shower and get ready for school, but to be honest, my life was totally unfair, what really worries me is who’s going to my hair. There no doubt in my mind that my life was unfortunate, for the reason that my single mother was completely busy working all day, coming home too late to have some food on the table. The first thing that I remember when I was 7-year-old was my mom and I living in the same house, sharing the same bed and bathroom, not to mention even when she was at home there was no close connection between both of us because she come home so tired that she didn’t have time to ask me how was your day at school. Even though, my mom was too busy playing the role of my