Personal Narrative : An Unexpected Lifesaver

The conversation then developed into him talking about his studies and his experiences as an architect. He made us introduce ourselves. I didn’t feel shy, for I had practiced this enough in my Speech class in the summer. After introducing myself, he gave me a mysterious look and stated that I was the first Early College student he had ever taught. I sat down feeling more relaxed and light, and the introductions continued. As many of the other classes, the first day was only of introduction and foreshadowing the works that would be present in the future. It was 6:50 p.m. and the class had ended. I picked up my backpack and pushed in my chair, but as I walked towards the exit, I looked at him but he was already looking at me and he smiled. I smiled back and opened the doors. As I walked back towards the cafeteria, I was reading the syllabus again, still examining the calming detail in it and reviewing the projects and tests. I entered the cafeteria and there were less than 5 students. I walked in the concrete sidewalk again and felt the autumn’s cold breeze hit my cheek. The sun was down but it’s warm and calming colors were still visible. The warm red-yellowish

When we were required to read books for school, other classmates complained about it, but it was one of my favorite parts of class. Even though I didn’t always like the books, I liked to read books that I wouldn’t have picked out to read. I liked being surprised when I enjoyed a book that I didn’t think I would like.

Growing up with a father in the military, you move around a lot more than you would like to. I was born just east of St. Louis in a city called Shiloh in Illinois. When I was two years old my dad got the assignment to move to Hawaii. We spent seven great years in Hawaii, we had one of the greatest churches I have ever been to name New Hope. New Hope was a lot like Olivet's atmosphere, the people were always friendly and there always something to keep someone busy. I used to dance at church, I did hip-hop and interpretive dance, but you could never tell that from the way I look now.

It was the first day back at school for a new year. Many of us still longed to be on holiday, carefree and careless. It showed on our faces as we grumpily and wearily made our way along the corridors to our House Room. This year our form (11) had a new student. When we walked in we all just looked at him, scrutinizing, mentally noting anything unusual. There was something about him though, but I couldn't quite see it. Nobody interacted with him at first - the teachers were all around him, then he was set free, for us students to talk with him, I didn't talk to him myself, rather I just listened to the questions of others, which, he answered them faintly. They ask him questions to get him talking, to get him relaxed, but he simply answered

Over my years of school, one big influence on me has always been sports. Ever since a young age, I have always enjoyed playing and watching sports. In my four years in high school, I have fell in love with the sport of lacrosse.

I woke up and took one bite out of my pop tart but that one bite was all I could eat. My legs were shaking, and my heart was pounding. My dad told me, “It is a true honor to even make it this far so go out there and have some fun.” Once I heard this statement, I knew I was ready to go. I arrived at school and boarded the bus. The car ride was an hour and fifteen minutes of hearing the squeaking of the wheel on the bus. My teammates were getting their heads ready for the big game.

He laughs. “I don’t expect you too, but I am thankful you did. How are you feeling?”

"It is, thank you. Somebody with your so little mental capability wouldn't understand." His smile

"First off: I don't like you and I don't enjoy your company. End. Of. Conversation." she says, literally shattering the cheery mood I was in to pieces.

After much consideration my husband and I have decided that Michael will not longer be attending The Reason For Hope effective immediately. I welcome the chance to sit down and talk with you should you choose to discuss the situation. It was not easy to arrive at this decision but it has been a long time coming. We have been increasingly more uncomfortable with your program in recent months for the reasons below.

I hadn’t noticed how much the conversation had become heated. I had unknowingly stood up from my seat, the palms of hands slammed onto my desk. I had been seething with hatred, my face blotchy and overheated. Mr. Hartford had a look of pure disbelief on his face. I breathed out and looked around the room at the students who had been staring at me. Some had their mouths open in awe, while others looked at me with disgust and hatred. Someone had begun clapping and other had begun to join in, which had me shrinking back into my seat. The bell rang, causing a long needed disruption.

I picked up one of the books and fell in love with all the things that it could teach me. My mother who was a special education teacher at the time had always pushed me and my siblings to read. She brought home tons of books for us to read. When I told her I found a great book on horses she was so proud, and from that moment on I have always had a love of reading. My love for reading has grown so much that I now read everything in sight, but reading wasn’t enough for me as it turned out. From all the great books I read I started to come up with ideas about new exciting books people could write, that I could write. So during my eight grade year my burning desire to write a book compelled me to finally do so. I used three notebooks and a ton of lead and wrote my story. When I was finished, I typed it up on my computer and printed it out to show everyone I knew. When people saw that I wrote a book they were proud of me and this pride made me want to continue, but sadly school activities took up all my time and I was unable to finish my second book. My story of how I learned how to love to read and write isn’t quite like Sherman Alexie’s superman moment but it is

“Well...try to get it off your mind,” Ibrahim suggested. “Read a book. Here,” he said while pulling a dust covered book off the shelf, “Read this.”

I sat in the very back of the classroom shielding my face with any book that was in sight. That way wouldn’t get called upon to read, but I guess my camouflage of books wasn’t good enough. I was assigned a part in the book to read and I could tell you, I was not happy. As we began to read I could see that my character’s part was starting to inch closer and closer. My heart started to beat out of my chest and the more my throat started to knot up. I was having second thoughts about even coming to school that day, but as I began to read, I started to get more into the book. It began to catch my interest and from that point on I started to realize it was more than just reading a book word per word. There was more to the story than what the paper full of writing would

“Sorry. I didn’t realize when I found out what you have a degree in; I didn’t think you would read every word on every page.” There was still laughter in his voice as he spoke.