Personal Narrative Essay Of Middle School

Barry couldn't believe that it was morning already, he went to sleep at 1 a.m because he stayed up binge watching his favorite show.“Barry wake up, it's 7:30!” Diana yelled as she rushed into her son's room. “Mom! Why didn't you wake me up earlier?, it's the first day of school!” was what came out Barry’s mouth although he knew that it was his fault like always. Barry stared at his alarm clock, which was completely silent, no noise or numbers reflecting off the screen to let Barry know that it was time to get ready for his first day of middle school. The day brightened considerably, the shadows were stretching in the opposite direction from what Barry had seen yesterday in his first day in New York. His father, Daniel, and Diana rush into the car since it was Daniel’s first day as well, at his new job in the famous World Trade Center. "Ready for your big day today champ?”, Barry didn't answer because of the memories that rushed through his brain of all his friends, teachers, and his grandpa.

Middle school is basically the gateway to many factors like parties and girls for many guys. It can change people in many ways. For me, I started off as a very successful student. My grades consisted of straight “A’s” and never missed one day of school. I entered the new student life with very few friends from previous years of education so I

In Middle School, where we were still growing up as adults, we did not like following the rules. I was in 9th grade. That day the bell rang for our next class and me and my friends did not want to go to our next class right away. We waited outside the room for our next class and chilled and talked. Me and my friends were in class all day and we wanted to let go of some energy. We kept talking and if our teacher came, we would go into the class right away. Our school did not like students to hang out in the hallway because they made too much noise. We did not care, we still chilled outside the class. We talked about new shoes and what we were going to do after school. It was so much fun because I had not seen my friends since 8th grade and it was the

One of the hardest and most influential days of my life was when I started middle school. It was my first time switching schools in six years and I wasn’t sure I was ready to. Some of my friends had known me for those six years and some even more. I had all sorts of questions running through my head on the day of the orientation. Like, what if I don’t fit in or what if I get lost on my first day? All of these questions disappeared when I stepped into what would soon be my new school.

Middle school was just the beginning for me. When I came into the middle school, I thought I wasn’t going to survive but later on I realized it wasn’t terrible at all. I've made some great memories and the best one’s were here. Fifth grade was the start for me, sixth and seventh grade shaped my personality, and eighth grade made me come into contact with myself.

Middle school, when that word pops up in one’s head, it’s a sudden reminder of dreadfulness,broken promises,regrets,first crushes, and last but not least, learned lessons. Another morning had brought another school day. Seeing familiar faces and teachers I just wanted to get through the day with no trouble, but that’s not always the case. At least it wasn’t for me. Making my way through the extended halls and walls that seemed to enclose upon me, I felt nothing more than like a chained prisoner. The bell rung and I remained seated in my class, surrounded by boxed, outdated computers and rusty white walls, I felt helpless.

Elementary school is hard. Mrs. Valerie, my first grade teacher, gave us a math worksheet, and it was easy up until I got to the back side. There were four long word problems! What does she think this is: middle school? Only I said it in my head. If she heard that, I would have gone straight to the principal’s office. I started the first one. I read all the words swiftly until I got to a word that I had never seen before in my life. It was only four letters: A-L-S-O. It looked like a whole different language. “When you come across a word you do not know, sound it out,” my mom would always say to me. I started to sound it out. “A-L-O-S,” but it was wrong. “A-L-Y-S-A-W,” I tried again, but it was still wrong. I did this over and over again thinking I was never going to get it. At the corner of my eye, I saw Mrs. Valerie walking around. Oh no, she is going to think I cannot pronounce simple English words. I pretended like I was hard at work on another problem until she walked past me. Now I just had to figure out what the word meant before she came around again. I tried everything that I could possibly think of. I tried to sound out each letter, and I

There is a picture on my fridge of my two best friends and me on the last day of Kindergarten, rosy red cheeks, smiles that could light up the night on our faces, the innocence of being five years old beaming from our bright eyes. An image that might outlast our friendship, but will forever be in my mind. All through Elementary school these two remained my best friends. Our little circle of friendship slowly grew as more people started to enter our lives for different reasons and we developed small friendships that threatened to pierce the bubble of our little trio. Nevertheless, our friendship didn’t falter. I believed this was the way friendship would always be: a tight-knit group who would alway be by each other's’ sides, through thick and thin. And then came middle school.

The first name was called and it turned out to be 1 of my friends.

Throughout the time I was in middle school I lacked support from both my parents. I didn’t have anyone to push me to try and receive good grades and both my parents cared very little whether I passed my classes. Lacking parental guidance, I received poor and failing grades throughout all of middle school. I created a poor working habit and had the mindset that school was not for me. It wasn’t until the end of my 8th grade year that I realized that the grades I received could ultimately shape my future. By then I was far behind from other students who had received good grades all of middle school. At the start of high school I was placed into regular ed classes and put in elective classes just to fill up my schedule. These classes put me

This has been my reality for 13 years. I have always been “that kid” who sat at the lunch table alone because I lacked friends.All the other kids boast about how great the school is and how enjoyable middle school is. However, I beg to differ. I have fallen behind in my academics, failing every single class I am enrolled in. I am even failing gym. Gym? Who fails gym is right? I don’t show up because it puts me in a position to be bullied. I often sit in the bathroom during that period thinking. I would always ask myself why. Why did I have to be the loner in the school? Why couldn’t my parent afford the clothes everyone else is wearing? Why couldn’t girls be attracted to me? This angered me; I was angry at the world. I even contemplated suicide

Up until I was in middle school I was an extrovert. I talked a lot and had many friends. My singing talent was defiantly not hidden. I sang everywhere all the time. Eventually, I was asked to sing in front of the school many times. I never remember being nervous or fearing people’s judgment. The only time I was afraid to sing was once when I was sick and I was scared to not be able to perform at my very best. No one’s judgment back then could prevent me from doing anything I set my mind to.

Being in a new town going into a middle school for the first time was terrifying. While I was familiar with the town, it had been years since I had lived there, 7 years in fact. In my new school they only people I knew were my sister, who was in the same grade as me, and my older brother who was in 8th grade, a grade above me. After a few months, I was told that I was a cry baby, that I was too weak, that I was dumb, and that I was tiny. I hated these phrases. They made me feel like nothing and they came not only from my classmates but my sister too. While my sister was kind to me, she was also mean.

I remember in second grade when my mom told me something that I’ve tried to keep with me over the years. “Do something nice for someone today, but keep it to yourself. Don’t tell anyone, just do it for the sake of being nice.” So, I did. It wasn’t much, but I pushed in chairs, straightened up cubbies, and picked up things around the class. The whole time I did, I felt this little rush. Doing things for other people felt good, even if no one thanked me. After that day, I tried to keep the same attitude. But in middle school, I learnt that the kindness you give is not always returned or appreciated no matter how hard you try.

“Come on Hailey it’s 6:30. We have to leave at 7:00 o’clock. You better not make us late this morning,” My grandma whispered loudly at my door.