Personal Narrative: AP World History

Failure is a part of life. While many see failure as a negative thing, I have started to see it as a situation that can make you a better person. Failure drives me to never make that mistake again. I first realized this when I took my first AP class and AP exam and received a score of 2. This journey all started sophomore year when I took AP World History. I quickly learned that I needed to actually read and take notes to be able to succeed in the class. It took a few poor grades on essays and tests for me to understand this. Despite this new revelation, I still struggled in the class. When it came time to start reviewing and preparing for the exam, I put an immense amount of effort, but not as hard as I should’ve been. Exam day came and

When I passed my AP World History test. During my freshman year I was put into an AP class. I didn’t know what AP was, I didn’t know what to expect. I was able to handle my honors classes because it was material back in middle school. However, AP World History was strenuous and took major effort. There were multiple times where I had uncertainty of whether or not I was capable to keep going. I really felt out of place because it was a difficult class with essays, chapters to read and exams every week. Nonetheless, I never gave in, I convinced myself that the reason why my school put in roughly 90 kids, including myself, out of at least 1000, is because they saw potential in us and knew that we would be able to handle the stress of a college

Throughout many of the arduous AP courses I took in high school I was pushed to my limits, but I accomplished my goals through hard work. One example of this would be my AP United States History class. This class was one of the most difficult courses I had taken, mostly due to the sheer amount of information being presented and needed to be memorized. Even though the basics of U.S. history had been taught to me in one way shape or form every school year, there was brand new information on people and important dates. At first I struggled with the work load and text, but I eventually made it through and succeeded by diving

A time that I experienced failure was when i failed my Algebra II class for first semester. My biggest error was that I didn’t retake my quizzes that i failed when i had the chance too. The first 3 months i didnt really tried, I would tell myself that I had a lot of time for the semester to end. However, i regretted it when i found out that i only had a few weeks for the semester to end. I stressed out the last weeks, I couldn’t go to sleep in the night. I would keep thinking of my grade and how i was going to fail the class. I knew that colleges were gonna see my grades for this year, my junior year. I really want to go to college, I want to make my parents proud. The last weeks, i did everything that i could. I did all the missing homework, and I tried to

It is true in life that everything happens for a reason. It is also true to say that sometimes it is all about being in the right place, at the right time. There was never a more prominent example of this than a traumatic summers evening, only a few years ago.

I took a challenging AP US History course that came with loads of work. I managed to do well in the class, and I got a 3 out of 5 on the exam. Dance was also challenge because I had poor memorization and I did not care for the art so much. There were many times where I was near tears out frustration because I could not get the dance right, and I would hear laughter and see the stares of other students, but I still never gave up.The class required after school and I did bowling, track, and cross country. I practiced and tried and overtime I improved, but that will be that last time I ever take a dance class. I had to manage my time well in order to balance getting good grades and do well on the track

What Italian explorer Amerigo Vespucci coined "The New World" was now overrun by man-eating zombies. It all started in Chile and Argentina; news of a highly infectious pathogen had begun spreading at breakneck speeds. By the time epidemiologists had discovered the cause of this pathogen it had already spread to the Western half of the United States and was making its way east.

“Your final exam will be in three parts: multiple choice, primary source analysis, and three major essays. I won’t be allowed within 2 miles of you when you take the exam.” The words of Mr. F, my AP US History teacher, reverberated between my ear drums. He either didn’t notice or didn’t seem to care: “The AP US History exam will be on a Saturday in mid May. It’s graded on a scale of 0 to 5. Zero being the lowest possible score, 5 being the highest.” A student in the front row raises her hand, interrupting our baptism by fire. Mr. F motions for her to speak.

In fact, it was the worst part of my entire year. It was by far the most challenging class I had ever taken. At one point it even brought me to tears. I was trying as hard as I could. I was working with my teacher in the mornings and in the afternoons. Yet, I was still failing tests and quizzes. I remember taking this one quiz three times before I finally got a grade that I deemed acceptable. It was the first time I had ever felt inadequate in the classroom. I felt like my brain did not work anymore. It was a difficult time for me. I had always excelled in honors courses, and I was doing well in my other AP classes. It was this one class that could not seem to figure out. I did not understand why my performance was so poor. Granted, the whole class struggled with this course. But, they too started to make small improvements. I had managed to maintain between a D and an F throughout the course of the semester. This was disappointing because I wanted to do well. I did have some small victories, but it was not the kind of performance that I was proud of. I was not used to giving something my all and getting nothing in

When I was younger I had always been described as mature. Although I wasn’t anywhere near being “mature”, it was a word always used to describe me, well-mannered and mature. While my brother was goofy and social, I was shy and serious. We were twins yet total opposites. As a child, because that was the word almost always associated with me, it crae unusual, almost toxic idea about myself. I had to be mature to be what people liked about me. So, it never occurred to me to be able to not take myself seriously and say something like “Oops that was dumb” and laugh it off. For some reason that didn’t make sense to me to say silly things like that.

Going to college is very uncommon within my family, not many of my family members have furthered their education with the college route. I thought going above and beyond others within my family and putting in the effort that goes along with college would really help me stand out from my family members. Most of my family have went straight into the workforce , straight out of high school with that being one of my options, that influenced me with the major of Production Agriculture due to the fact my family and I have been raised to run a farm. By doing the extra step and going through with college I believe my standpoint on running a farm will have a slight advantage then my other family members. Unlike most people in my family

Sitting in a hospital waiting room, alone, afraid; and waiting for the news; would she be ok? Would she even survive? My nerves were out of control; my heart was beating through my chest, you could literally see it thumping through my top. The beads of sweat racing down my forehead, as if I was in the middle of the Safari dessert. I have been an athlete my entire life, yet I have never felt so physically drained. I look around, my eyes opening, then closing; as if I am coming in and out of consciousness, then suddenly echoed words begin to ring around my ear drums….” Sir…...sir, can you hear me? Sir please, we need to know what happened. We need to know what happened to her. Maybe my motionless state showed my

I started playing volleyball in 3rd grade. My dad wanted me to play because my sister also played. It was my first day being a 3rd grader and my dad told me I should get into volleyball. From there I wasn’t sure if I wanted to play. I watched my sister play every game and it looked like it was hard so I didn’t think I could do it.

It was a hot sweltering Saturday in August, August twenty-seventh to be exact. I remember waking up that morning with my stomach in knots we were to play the Hot Springs Bison. Sure, I played JV last year and practiced all summer with the first team but now all the hot god awful gut ranching two a day practices were about to pay off.

Racing at night going One-hundred and forty miles an hour on US-27 holding the lead, Shift six gear, speed topped out at two-hundred miles per hour passing by cars smoothly. I chanted I am immortal, I am a god! while I pushed my sports bike to its limit. Suddenly a black car approaches. WHAM! I get Rammed from behind and lose control of my bike slamming into a Semi-truck up ahead. Lights out. When I peeked my eyes, I saw 4 humans around me. Thump after thumb I believe I was in an ambulance rushing down the turnpike. I looked around and the first words that came to my head are “Rick this is just a dream”. This is the story of how I escaped from an illegal laboratory that clones and modifies humans.