My True Friend

Two little girls with matching pink dresses, light up shoes, backpacks double their size skip off to the bus for their very first day of school. To a five year old, kindergarten was a big deal. The first time away from their parents, a new environment, and very intimidating older kids. I knew I was lucky, I got to take on this new experience with my built-in best friend and somehow, knowing that made all the difference.

It was the fall of 2003, a cool and cloudless California morning. My parents, who dressed me up with a polo shirt and khakis, waited patiently for the school bus as I looked fearfully at what was going to happen. I didn't want to leave my house, nor did I want to go to school. I was a shy boy, who didn't like doing anything but staying at home and minding my own business. When the school bus finally came, I climbed on to the yellow bus and looked outside fearfully as my parents waved goodbye. I was too scared for the first day of school, which helped me shape the person I am today. Throughout my life, I've been to different places, from Oklahoma to a whole different country in a different continent miles away. During that time, I was able to shape myself with the cultural experiences I got through being in a multicultural environment,

On a Spring day in Oak Park, California a 10 year old girl stood at the front of her classroom, almost scared to death. This girl named Abigail was about to go on the roller coaster of emotions called middle school. "Hi. I'm Abigail" she said, her voice shaking. It's not always easy to be the new

In elementary school, I was a shy girl, but my parents would never believe that statement from any teacher. As a child, I ran around, danced on an imaginary stage, and read vigorously. Nevertheless, the quiet girl in their class perplexed teachers, but one teacher pushed me out of my shell and onto a stage. In that moment, the perception of me being a quiet student disappeared, and the chance to grow as a better person arose.

This is the story of a boy who has broken his arm and nose but other than that has not really experienced much in his life, but that would soon change for him. This boy is named Jackson, he was starting the eighth grade, his parents couldn't believe he was already so old and neither could he. On his first day of school going into class Jackson came to the conclusion that his classmates would be some of his closest friends from years prior. Thinking to himself about how amazing this year is going to be having all his friends within one class and how he had something to look forward to every day coming to school and that would be to see his friends. Every day for him would be the same wake-up, go to school, go home but for him, a school

Dani and I began our friendship out of necessity, not mutual interest in each other. Early in our grade school careers we were thrown into Park Hill Elementary’s GTC (Gifted Talented Children) program, made for kids that teachers had somehow deemed “sharper than the other pencils in the box”. The program for our school was rather small; there were maybe fifteen or so children of varying grades. Dani and I had the unfortunate luck of being the only female members of the species in this group

Growing up as a kid, I noticed a reasonable difference in my life where my mind grew up faster than my physical body. Maybe it was the strict rules that matured me or the high expectations instilled in me that formed my personal character. Remembering those lonely walks on my way to elementary school through the heart of a developing Desoto neighborhood and those short friendships formed on the rusted playground detailed the beginnings of my childhood. The constant dreams of becoming a successful man in the footsteps of my father clouded my head as I laid in the bunk bed of my hopes that shadowed the doubts of my developing mind. Through the ticks of time, it truthfully told the struggle of confidence and purpose as I searched for a safe haven

The story of my thirteen-year-old-self offered readers a glimpse of the lowest point of my life; However, it was not the only time I felt discouragement. In Fall 2014, my mother ended up losing her job due to disability. We had to move into a dangerous neighborhood. All our lives, my mother worked hard to prevent us from residing in neighborhoods that could potentially harm us. I can recall the face she wore when she realized moving to a lower-class area was the only solution to our problems. She did not say it, but I can tell that she felt like she failed us. I patted her back the entire ride to our new home for reassurance. When we reached our destination, my stomach tied up in knots. There were dozens of people around the neighborhood

It was my first day of middle school. I stood outside the classroom alone, waiting for the school bell to ring. While many other students were nervous for the new school year, I was excited. I was very different from other twelve year olds. Since kindergarten, I’ve always stood out from my fellow students. At four, I was able to read chapter books and do division and multiplication. Now I’m eight and attending seventh grade.

We rode to the park and the creek as the sun’s last rays winked at us above the trees in the West. As we rode, I became increasingly silent, feeling the divide between the old and the new; between me and the people that I had loved, those that were the only people that made me feel truly accepted in my entire school career, came a growing divide. We can still talk, but the words have no meaning, we can still laugh, but the laughter feels fake. I am normally one to embrace change, and the adventure that comes with it; indeed my life right now is a far cry from dismissal, but oftentimes, I choose to look at the beauty of the past, and wish that nothing ever has to

There I was in a pasture with my mom and sister. I was only there because my sister loved to ride, I had stopped many years before after I broke my toe. I don’t remember what month it was, but it sometime in the fall of 2010. Katherine, my sister who is just a few years older than me, has just finished riding. She had been riding for hours and the hours before that she was washing Willy and brushing Willy. The whole time I had just been

One of the nurses gave me a ride to school, but I didn't know how I’d learn as though I do at all. I got one friend here, Jane’s all I need really the only one not doing drugs or stealing. Her mama died about 7 years ago when we were young.She’s in advanced classes, and already knows what college she wants to go to. She’s the kinda person who uses words like malaphor and petrichor, and reads like it’s breathing. Her dad don’t like me, but I like her a lot. The teacher was sitting at their desk again, dealing out quizzes again, and I was drawing in the corner again.

Fear struck my heart when I heard these words from my best friend in the sixth grade. It felt as if my chest were pierced by an arrow Surely, I remembered how awful it was the first time, but what is stopping me now? With hesitation, I told my parents I wanted to go to summer camp. When they asked if I was sure, I replied “I’m positive”, even though I didn’t truly believe my myself. They agreed to let me have a second try, and I rode the bus for six hours from Houston to Arkansas. Many thoughts bounced around in my head on that bus ride and I was having some regrets, but when the bus arrived I felt comfortable, I was overwhelmed with euphoria. “Dear mom and dad, camp is unreal and the waterfront is

The life of a child is beautiful from the eyes of grown-ups- with all its ups and sideways. I went on my first field trip with school in elementary school as a second grader. On the day of the trip, lined up by grade levels in the school playground, we waited for the buses to arrive. Laughter echoed my frequent clapping, I couldn’t wait!

I noticed a sharp fast glare, almost like needles, injected from my teacher to the two people dressed in black. My teacher knelt down to my level so we were both eye to eye. She stared at me with her big marbles and said, “Josh, these people are going to take you out to lunch. You need to go with them, OK Josh.” My teacher’s eyes were getting wetter, “You need to be a big boy, OK Josh. You be a big boy now.” Before I knew it, she had engulfed me into her chest, wrapped me neatly into her arms, and covered my head with her chin. Warmth and love surged through my body as if I was hit by a bolt of lightning cupid had mistaken for an arrow. I felt a warm drop of water hit my head.