Personal Narrative Analysis

The fourth grade was a very traumatic year for me. My only sister went to middle school, my mom who always was at home across the street from school got a job, and I didn’t know one person in my class. For the first time in my life I was on my own and I was frightened even by the idea of it. During that year my grades dropped and I wasn’t social with my classmates. I started to fail in my favorite class, math. The work became pointless to me and I started to neglect my work. One day, after I failed another one of those math tests, my teacher asked to talk to me after class. Due to the already annoying grade I had received, my teacher punished me with a detention. Confusion and frustration flooded my body and I just wanted to give up. But,

The worst year of my life was in the seventh grade. It was a time of unforgettable and painful moments which took place throughout the school year. This taught me a significant lesson. The summer before seventh grade, my parents informed me that it would be beneficial to join a sport. When I did not find one that interested me, the color guard was counseled to me; which to be honest, I resented. My mother had a strict policy that once an activity is started it must be continued throughout the entire season; for this reason, I did. My color guard instructor was one of the most bounteous woman I knew. Moreover, she was an admirable and gracious woman who cared deeply about her students. When school started, I was a self-effacing, lonesome girl,

7th grade was the year I woke up. My mom called me into her bedroom late one afternoon and was still sitting on her bed, wearing her pajamas. The bright and cheerful sunshine that lit up the room gave a false ambiance of the tension that clouded the air. I already knew what she was going to say, but I did not want to believe it as the truth. I had noticed that my mom and dad's relationship with one another was growing apart just by the way they acted around each other. The conversations between them became shorter and their affection for one another began to fade. My dad spent his nights falling asleep watching TV on the couch, while my mom slowly disappeared back into her bedroom, alone. This had been happening for a while now, so I do not know why I was even surprised when my mom said to me that, “Your dad and I are getting a divorce”. I should have seen it coming. The clues were all in front of me, but I was too afraid to put them together. I was scared because, for the first time in my life, the image of my "perfect" family was crumbling before me. I knew inside that my family was falling apart, but I was desperately holding onto the fibers that I thought were keeping us together. It is hard to believe that one encounter can change the course of one's life forever. In this instance, I was awoken from the dream that I had been living in for so long.

Learning how to read and right I remember it like it was yesterday. I thought I would never be able to read and write as well as I wanted to do. I was homeschooled because I was on the gymnastics competition team, I was the youngest on there for a while. I used to train five to six hours a day, there for all the girls homeschooled but we all had to bring in our work on Friday to talk about what we had do and learned that week. I used to dread Fridays because I always felt behind because I was the youngest all the girls used to tell me that they were the same as me when they were my age. There was a teacher that came in on Fridays for English and math, she would always tell me I was fine, that I was at where I needed to be. My mom left the biggest

It was September 28, 2009, and I was on my way to Ocoee Middle School. My cousin, who I was close with at the time, gets on the bus and asks me “ So you found out what happen?” I looked at her all confused and said to her “ What are you talking about?” She had said to me that, my grandfather had passed the day before. My cousin looked at me like expecting me to cry, but in that moment all I could say to myself was I didn’t get to say goodbye. My cousin in that moment started to regret telling me, but I had reassured her that I was happy that she had told me. I got to school and went throughout my first three periods feeling nothing but emptiness and as if a part of me was gone. As I walked into my fourth period class it seemed as if those emotions

My elementary years can be described in one word, melodramatic. I went to a small private school names Victory in the Perryton Texas. My class had a around 15 kids in it and it only got smaller with each year. In preschool and kindergarten, my mom decided to “homeschool” me. In other words i didn't really learn anything, i just had more time to be a kid. I loved and when it came time to starting first grade i was actually very excited to be in school. Unfortunately i was quite a bit behind. I didn't know how to read, spell anything, and i was so much slower than the rest of my class when it came to completing my assignments. The whole i was one of the last kids in the class to complete all of the assignments. Then one day my principal, who was good friends

It was fourth-grade during the second trimester, and as normal, I was doing well at school. Life was going on at the same speed, I was fine. School had just started up again after Christmas break, and everyone was tired, including me. I would always get up a little late, sending me rushing around the house to get ready for school. Luckily for me though, I always got ready in time, always had my things ready. Until one day, I didn’t.

It all started when I enrolled in preschool and began my official schooling. My teachers and other family members all began to notice something unique about me: I was able to pick up and learn information much faster than other children my age. My parents were faced with a decision. My mom began to research the possibility of starting my elementary schooling a year early. All of the people she talked to were very reluctant about allowing a child to skip ahead of an important benchmark early. One day my mom scheduled a meeting with the elementary education counselor. As I sat beside her in the school board office, I could tell by the frustrated tone in her voice and the look on her face that she was not hearing good news. Finally she said, "the least you could do is give her a shot." And that was all that it took for the school officials to administer a series of tests to me. When I got the news that I would be taking these tests for early entrance, I went home and started to prepare. Even as a young child, I spent hours

“Our lives begin to end the moment we stay silent about things that matter” -Martin Luther King Jr. In history, many people have taken a stand for race, religion, gender, or human rights in general. It is common to walk around downtown Chicago and see a blown up rat or a group of protesters outside of a business or store. Although sometimes they get fired or in trouble, these people have the courage to stand up for their rights as a worker. However, it doesn’t always lead to what they want. If you have ever taken a stand in your life, you’d know, sometimes arguing is not the answer.

The summer after I completed the 6th grade, my parents decided to pull me out of my Baptist, private school and homeschool me. I, like most kids, was not thrilled with the decision, but being only 11 years old, I had no say in the matter. Despite my initial reservations, being homeschooled was a great experience for me, but I began to get bored. I missed seeing people every day. It was just me and my family. I was ready for a new experience, something big, and college was exactly what I was looking for. It was Sunday night, and there was a high probability that class would be cancelled. I prayed that that wouldn’t happen, however, it did. The

The last year of high school is always the craziest and the most exciting. The year has just started and all my peers were already talking about which college they’ll be going to. Apart from my honors classes and being in the AIG program, I didn’t have much going on academically. What I was most concentrated on was writing. Just the year before I had taken English III honors and my teacher, Mrs. Patton, was the hardest English class I had yet. Every week we had to turn out vocabulary in and make a story out of the words. During first period, I realized I forgot to write the story so instead I wrote a poem. When we got in class we she looked over our vocab as we turned it in. Once she got to mine she paused and

The day before first grade, my parents sat me down and told me that I would need to take a speech class. I was very confused and concerned as to why they thought I needed help, but they said that I slurred my words and could not pronounce sentences correctly. Looking back, I recall not being able to sleep that night just wondering what the next day would bring, thinking that everyone's eyes would be directed toward me as I walk down the hall. I woke up the next day paralyzed with fear. Riding to school that day in the car I could only think about what people would say about me taking a speech class basically designed for children who learn at a slower pace than normal. Walking down the dark and quiet hallway to my class for the first time I remember hearing, “Hello, you must be Lauren.” I turned around and saw a tall lady with brown hair and glasses. I

It was the first day of kindergarten, my mother took me to the school and as we were walking in she told me, “Don’t worry sweetheart, you are going to make so many friends and mommy will be here to pick you up after the day is over.” We hadn’t even made it into the classroom and I was already crying because I didn’t want to leave my mom. I had never been away from my her for a whole day, how in the world did they expect me to do that when I was only about five years old. She told me it would be alright and then proceeded to go back home. I spent half of the day in the classroom crying, refusing to do anything but eventually gave in because I was hungry. When my mom picked me up from school that day, she asked me how the day was, and by that time I had forgotten about how scared I was to be without her. I was so excited for the next day.

My education began in kindergarten in 1993. It wasn't easy for me, because school was the first place I ever got to interact with other people, mainly children. Before I started school, I was pretty much kept indoors, and not allowed to have contact with other people, except for members of my own family. This was all because I was a little girl. During the first 5 years of my life, I figured that was all I was entitled to, and even though I hated it, I lived with it. In first grade, I had to interact with other kids for the first time, which was not easy. I did eventually learn that I could make new friends with them, and soon settled down into school. The quality of education that first year was not bad, I learned a lot and grew a lot during that year. I had great teachers too, who really gave me the help I needed. Second grade at that school was a different story though, I had a different teacher, who was not very good, and seldom offered the help I needed. I was also treated like I was lower than the rest of the students. I don’t know what her problem with me was, but it set me back a great deal, both academically and emotionally. When I needed help, it was not given and I was often ignored. She felt that it was not worth it to help those students who needed it. Fortunately, my parents saw this and intervened, first trying to negotiate, then after that broke down, transferred me to another school. The new school was very different, being more structured than the first.

The morning of the first of school came after getting ready and eating breakfast I went to my bus stop. The first day of school was incredibly awesome, everyone was friendly, and my black Chromebook case even arrived a few days earlier. After I went to my Aunt's house I had a snack and took a nap. A while later after waking up, I didn’t see my Aunt so I started crying and felt really alone. I wanted my mom to come back home very soon and quickly. My Aunt and my parents were tremendously worried and I was sad at both home and at school. I lost my appetite and it took a while to get it back. I couldn’t bear having my mom around anymore and I wanted her to come back right away as every day passed. Everyone and even I myself knew that I was in a mentally maimed state from the result of the past few months. On Saturday, the day finally came when my parents would come.! My uncle, brother, and I went to pick her up. At first glance at my mother after about three months of not seeing her, I embraced my mom into a tight hug. Right that moment I started bursting into soft tears, I was unconditionally and unexplainably happy to see her and everyone else again. That day we had another gluttony of delicious food made by our Elder Aunt to commemorate most of my family’s return. My big sister hadn’t come with my parents but she was going to come a later month. It was the best day of my life my parents got us all gifts and were there with me. I hoped school