Personal Narrative: Clackamas High School

On April 08, 2016, I arrived to my designated school, Cypress Point Elementary School. Upon my arrival to Cypress Point Elementary School, I went to the main office of the school to see the assistant principal, Mrs. Dewitt. She could not make it to school on time, due to her having car troubles. The secretary told me she would notify her that I arrived and to set me. As I waited for Mrs. Dewitt, I noticed quite a few students having to call home due to violating the school dress code. Mainly it was more girls violating the dress code than boys. I am assuming from what I saw, the children only wore clothes that they saw the adults wore, or whatever their parents picked out for them. During this time, I noticed a little Asian or Hispanic boy being brought to school but he was supposed to be at home due to suspension. The secretary asked him “Why are you at school?” This young man told the secretary that his mother brought him to school. The secretary informed him that he needs to call his mother so that she

I have always been in love with the game of softball. I love all the competition and the thought of working at it brings joy to my heart. I could always go to the field to get my mind off things and just focus. But in May of 2015 my life changed and I had a whole new mind set on everything.

When I lived in North Carolina in 2012, I lived in a small school within a tight nit community. From day one I felt as though I didn’t belong, and the ones who made me feel most out of place were my teachers. My teachers told me to leave and go back to Maryland because if i stay I would fail. I couldn’t believe teachers would say that I was so shocked. My teachers rarely attempted to help me with my work as if I was unteachable because I didn’t learn as fast as everyone else.

Prompt: Some students have a background, identity, interest, or talent that is so meaningful they believe their application would be incomplete without it. If this sounds like you, then please share your story.

Throughout the seventeen years that I’ve been alive I have witnessed all the sacrifices my parents have gone through ensuring I have a better future than they did. I come from immigrant parents that weren’t fortunate enough to continue studying. I myself was brought into the country when I was two years old so I could build a different path than the one my parents had to take due to financial reasons. Short after, my sister was born my mom got remarkably ill with Diabetes. I would watch in terror as my mother would lay in bed barely able to move. I held her hand, wiped her forehead, with a cool wet towel, and longed she would get all better. Being the oldest in the

When I started Unity High School I felt a little nervous because I didn't knew nobody in the school. In the begging of the first class I was quit and I didn´t talk to noone. I also didn't knew nobody in the class so I could tell them if they could help me on the problem that I need help. I was shy to talk to the teachers and and answer question or ask them for help when I needed help. During lunch time I just knew one person that came from my middle school. So I just hand out with him most the time. But, then weeks and months past I began to have more friends and I was not shy or nervous to ask for help in class. I wanted to join the soccer team of the school but I was to nervous to do it. But, now I know that I´m going to join the soccer team

My eyes repeatedly peered to the stands which had a crowd of at least four hundred students eagerly waiting as we were warming up. Observing the crowd I noticed the left side of the field was full of students in orange Parkview High School shirts while to my right students were in purple Brookwood High School shirts. It was the Lacrosse Region Championships between Parkview, the school I played for, and, Brookwood High School. Both of our schools were ranked top ten for biggest rivalries, we knew it would be a fight to win the most significant game for us.

Clear Lake High School, I read that from my window car, the dance class is waiting for me. I roll my eyes, yes, it is those days when the only thing that you would lean at the pillow and look at the wall thinking and how your future is going. I heard my mom's music, halleluiah, my mom has goods likes at the music. I stared to mutter the lyrics when it came to my mind. "I find a new reason for me, to changes who I used to be". Finally, the red-light changes to green and my mom left me at the mean door of the place that is close to the martyrdom. I stared to walk across the hallways. Looking at al the trophies that my school has. I had to admit how cool my school is.

It just made things easier for the bullies and things worse for me. Louis and I remained in Wildcats East. I was afraid and sometimes I never wanted to go back. I thought the bullying would have stopped. Now that I am not in school anymore, I feel safer, not threatened or bullied by anyone much anymore. Pretty sad I tell you how school life had to turn out the way it did.

Vividly, I can remember walking through the high school doors for the first time as a freshman with shaky legs and a nervous heartbeat. The school was a jungle of wide, shiny hallways filled with lumbering seniors who I thought were going to knock my books down on Freshman Friday. However, time has passed, and now I find myself to be the tall and “scary” senior. As I ponder about the last four years I have spent at Little Falls Community High School, I can not help but realize how much I have changed for the better. As I have matured, I have gleaned that beauty does not come through makeup and clothing brands, but rather through processing a good heart. Also, I have changed my career and college plans after high school, and I know that I will

“Fight, fight, fight,” was the chant that so often filled the halls of West Monroe High School. The teachers heard it every time but always hid in the teacher's lounge for fear of being attacked. This was the legacy of WMH, fights, student riots, and terrified teachers.

I believe it was Wednesday morning, around 9:30 am, partly cloudy, about 66 degrees Fahrenheit outside. I have a chemistry class at Laney College and I remembered I had a quiz that morning so I wanted to make sure I made it on time, because the quiz starts at the beginning of the class. I made sure I have everything like my wallet, book, backpack and my water bottle, the usual checklist. So I am off the class, and like always I lock the door right before I walk outside. Everything was going according to plan until it happened. I think my hands were full and I walked out my house, and realized I don’t have my car keys! I realized it almost right after I closed the door behind me, because the next thing I do is open my car...with my car keys.

As the only oboe player in the 8th grade, my band teacher Ms. Vogel and all of my friends knew that acceptance was a guarantee. To my classmates, I timidly expressed skepticism but my flattering subconscious secretly knew that I would rip open the high school admissions letter and inside I would find a gargantuan OFFER. Doubt was nonexistent in my mind.

Toward the last days of my high school days, I was told that I was a troubled kid that needed serious disciplinary actions. I wished someone in school had understood my situation. I wished someone had spoken up for me. But it was their words against mine and mine was silent. I was not a troubled kid. I wished someone at school, the principal, the teachers, had read this quote by Annette Breaux, “Remember: everyone in the classroom has a story that leads to misbehavior and defiance. 9 times out of 10, the story behind the misbehavior won’t make you angry. It will break your heart”. Maybe then they might have explored deeper into my situation. My entire childhood was filled with isolation, abuse, and neglect. I was born in Hong Kong, the youngest

My time in High School was made difficult from the constant strife and conflict between my parents. This made my home an unstable environment not fitted for learning or growing as an individual. As I got older and closer to graduating High-School, I began to find my own voice with the help of my mentor Rahn Fleming, which occurred at the end of my junior year. As a result, I came in control of my life and the constant feuding started to die down. No longer did I have to worry about the next scheduled court date, or the next time I would come home wondering what may await. I felt like I was always walking on broken glass for the longest of time throughout my life, until I began to voice myself and what I wanted. My parents came to realize this