Personal Narrative: Iguana In High School

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

The familiar aroma of coffee fills the air as I enter the not so common area. I feel very bewildered in the labyrinth of hallways searching for my classroom just like I had stepped into corn maze as a child. At last, I locate the secluded room tucked away inside the massive building. Even though the number on the door matches the number on my schedule I am still second guessing if I am in the right place. The door opened up as students poured out. Finally, I took my seat at the back, trying my hardest to sit down unnoticed. My hands were shaking as I wrote the class name at the top of my paper. After what seemed like ages the professor proceeded to

I walked into the classroom to see all my new pupils, I was nervous at first but then Miss Maudie introduced me to the class and everything was fine. I wrote my name on the board and told them what it said and where I am from. The class just murmured back to me. I started the day by reading the children a story about cats, I think they liked it but then again some of them did seem immune to imaginative literature. After reading I went to the blackboard and printed the alphabet in large

“We are going to look at some great examples of introductions and conclusions”, said my 8th grade English professor Mrs. Kelly. When I looked at the board, my last name was staring at me and I was staring back. My blood start to boil, and my face was as red as a tomato. My heart was beating as fast as a cheetah can run and in that moment, I felt that I was the center of attention. I looked at my teacher’s face and all the weird feelings disappeared in the blink of an eye. A smile was dancing around my face and hardly a word was spoken. This feeling was one of the best feelings in my life, but for others it might have been a normal feeling that they might experience every day. This feeling was meant to happen to me a long time ago, but no one knows what life can to someone who believes in

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

I was hopeful that the day would be a success. It was the same routine in a new environment. Fortunately, my first day at Larned High School started like every first day before. The principal, Mr. Langdon, gathered all the students and welcomed us into a new school year. His speech filled the room with excitement and optimism for the new year. After the ground rules were set we set forth for our first class. I would never have realized the challenges I would face in Biology. My instructor, Miss Moser, started off the year with a stern no-nonsense policy. Fear swept over the room. For the first two weeks, I did not dare speak, and I did not wish to cause any trouble. As long as I did not say anything I could not be wrong. To start the class, we began reviewing what the class should already know. It was difficult to figure out what I needed to know because she had such high expectations for the class. After the longest hour of my life, the class was finally over. I bolted

The classroom set up was very different than what I was used to back in Nepal. I didn’t know anyone in there. I didn’t know what to do, so I just managed to sit in the chair that was nearby the door. All the other students were staring at me like something was wrong with me. In reality, everything felt wrong to me when I was in the situation where it felt so bad that I just wanted to quit. It seemed like I was on a one-way street, and I couldn’t figure out what I should do and how I would get out from it. It was almost the end of that class. The time passed just by watching a documentary on the literature’s time period. After the bell rang, all the students left the classroom; then I walked to my teacher with the problem I was having. I was lost in every other class as the hallways get crowded and the buildings were huge. He helped me solve the problems that I had, and my first day of the new school passed in the same way as it did first three hours of that

It was a raw, blustery March day and I was leading four classmates to my house to hash out the remaining details of our current English presentation. When I opened the door, however, I received a surprise. I had not anticipated my mother still being home and neither had my group members. Their faces turned slightly blank, as if they were trying to hide their confusion and surprise. The previously relaxed atmosphere had become very formal and quiet. I had seen this before.

During this observation I observed a young girl who we will call “Kayla” she was working on her daily journal. I asked the teacher if it would be okay if I asked “Kayla” to tell me a story about her journal page and then have her act it out with a few friends the teacher was actually very excited about this. So when I asked “Kayla” to tell me a story about the time she and her family went to the beach she was super excited I told her I was going to write it down so we could act it out later.

Then I went to language and sat down next to Makenzi, Taylor, and Itzel. Makenzi gave me a piece of gum and the rest of class consisted of reading a stupid story. Then Mrs. Morrone told us our homework which was a work book page. 10 minutes after that she dismissed us and I stopped at my locker. I opened it with ease and took out my science textbook and workbook. I sat down next to Taylor and we talked about our science fair project, which is due in January. All of a sudden, Mrs. Dainton screamed out, “Ah, a spider!” The whole class laughed and screamed. Mrs. Dainton took off her black shoe and tried to hit the spider, but she missed. She aimed again and finally hit it. She told us to quiet down and do our homework, we didn’t. Makenzi continued to laugh and make jokes. “Makenzi, come here,” yelled Mrs. Dainton. Makenzi didn’t so she got a referral. When Makenzi left, the class quieted down and continued working. Mrs. Dainton quietly dismissed us and I stayed because that’s where I have advisory. I worked on homework, and when I was done I read my book. The book I’m reading is called “After Eli”. The bell rung, I put up my chair, and I

"Tasnim, can you please stay after class? I need to talk to you." I let go of the door handle and whip my head back to face my third grade teacher Mrs. Russell. She said my name correctly for the first time all year, though her voice was stern. I realize that my jaw has dropped by the expression on her face as she peers over her laptop. As I walk slowly towards her, my classmates whisper, "Ooh she's in trouble" as they sprint out the door for recess. I stand near my teacher's desk waiting for all the students to leave and when the room is silent, Mrs. Russell says,

You’ve reached the classroom now, the right one, you’re sure, but there’s already people inside and you’re early, so you lean against a wall and wait. You keep your mind perfectly blank as you watch the students, now your peers, go by. You notice the rock in your shoe again, and you contemplate it’s and then your very own existence for a while, very heavy but not unpleasant before class thoughts.

Suddenly, there was a hush in the room. The teacher had asked someone a question! I tried to seem casual as I glanced up to see if I was the unlucky person who had been called upon. My heart jumped and then I realized that the teacher was looking at the person to my right, waiting expectantly for an answer. I stared at the girl also, as if I was truly interested in whatever ramblings might come out of her mouth about the dead general and his battle. I felt my face grow warm with a slight blush as I became embarrassed for her and her inability to answer the question. She must have been paying as much attention to the lecture as I had been. Finally, she was able to formulate a less than mediocre answer that satisfied the monotone voice at the front of the room and the lecture resumed. Another glance back at the girl and I saw the cell phone palmed in her left hand down by her side. She had been text-messaging someone instead of paying attention!

I stumble into English about 5 minutes late, clutching three binders and feeling the stares of the class on me. I awkwardly walk to the back corner, sit down, and put my stuff on my desk. I look up to see Mrs. Kobayashi walking to the front of the room.

When I first walked into her class it was like lost like always. I don't know what to do or what to say so I just simply sat in the back. For the next two weeks we have writing non stop. In between those three months I was still confused. One day she had told us that we were to write a poem about our colors. It had taken me awhile to write that poem but when I had fished it I felt that i had done great and not even two weeks later I had found my poem on the wall with a gold sticker. Know it may not have been the most exciting example to give but I felt at that moment in Ms. Martinez’s class I had faith in her and I truly believed that she would be able to