Personal Narrative: Lessons In High School

It was the winter of 1993 and I stand there in sleepy, little seaford huddling inside my school blazer against the chill of the air waiting for my bus to take me to school. The sound of train wheels screeching on the tracks drift off in the distance and cigarette smoke engulfs me from a nearby junkie puffing away. Seaford is a quiet suburb on the mornington peninsula, everyone knows each other and everything about each other. Small news for most suburbs is big news for seaford because nothing ever happens in little seaford. My bus drops me off at school, students are rushing to get to there classes and the usual chatter fills the air. I get to my class and take a seat except I can't help notice that today there is more buzz flowing through the air from my classmates, i look around and i can see expressions of fear as well as excitement on their faces. However all i can feel is confusion. What is everyone talking about? The principle makes an announcement over the speaker “most of you are aware of the recent murders in the frankston seaford area, both these murders were very similar which is why the police suspect that there is a serial killer targeting young women. All students must not go home alone and must not walk down the golf links road track unless accompanied by other students” A lump forms in my throat and my mouth goes dry. I feel vulnerable as ever.

I glanced up at the clock. It was 12:18. Mrs. Ewert exclaimed, “One or two problems guys.” My heart sunk to my toe. I had langage arts next. Mrs. Berntson was coming back to school after her son went missing. My friends say that she is seeking revenge and locking up kids. I tried not to think about it and did a math problem, I knew they were exaggerating. The bell rang and Mrs. Ewert excused the class. I slowly walked down the crowded hallway. I turned the corner and could see her crusty, burnt door. Now I could believe my friends, Mrs. Berntson has gone crazy! I looked across the hallway and could see my friend, Will. You could tell by his face that he was scared to go in.

I was always told that things would change in highschool. You would meet new people, find new friends, and even discover a new class that amazes you. No one prepared me for what was going to happen Sophomore year though; no one saw it coming.

A life lesson that I have learned over the course of my high school years, is you need to choose wisely which crowd of people to hang around. I’ve learned that not everyone is your friend, even if they tell you they are. There are people out there who will claim to be your friend, and will stab you in the back when you least expect it.

It was a bright sunny day and I was ready to play. I was on the playground at recess. It was in April. I was on the monkey bars when my friend told me to jump down and she would catch me. My 3rd grade self thought it was a good idea and jumped. When i jumped from the bar, she moved. I slammed into the ground. I learned from this experience that you can’t trust everybody, not even your closest friends. No matter how much you know a person, you never know when they could change just in a second. Even if she moved because she was scared, or she wanted me to hit the ground, it doesn’t matter. Through it all I learned that you can’t give your just to everybody.

At first, I didn’t think I belonged here. I wasn’t doing as well as I had hoped at the beginning of the semester, but I buckled down, got tutors and used my time wisely. After just a week, my hard work started to pay off. I realized I loved being at Salve and I could not have chosen a better school to be at. The people here have been so welcoming and have been so helpful. I am so glad that Salve was the school I chose. Not only was it my dream school, but I also figured out who I was and why I belonged here rather than at any other school. I love Salve and I could not imagine being at any other school.

While dressing unfashionably, looking both uneasy and clueless, in a class with no more than twenty students, millions of questions suddenly appear in my chaotic head. Questions such as “what will happen to me?,” and “how can I understand this?” built up the doubt in me. However, who would have guessed that six years later, I would become a girl who has adopted a different vibe with more confidence and enthusiasm, which I thought would never be possible, six years ago.

hen I first walked through Old Colony’s doors when I was a freshman I didn't know if my friends from my middle school were going to be there. Luckily a majority of my friends were accepted too but even if they weren't I was ready to make new ones. Freshmen year for me wasn't really nerve racking but I still had nerves because I was use to the middle school environment where I knew everyone but this was a totally different experience. The teachers that I was assigned to really helped with the middle school to high school transition and I am really thankful for that. Probably the best part of my freshman year was the exploratory program that I went through. There were a lot of shops that really caught my eye but the one that really stuck with

“Ranked sixth, Dorothy Hernandez, Texas A & M University Kingsville, Civil Engineering,” began the description at my high school graduation. I recall my decision upon selecting a school and major, which were all revolved around an anti-teaching attitude. My mother, who comes from a line of teachers in El Salvador, and a school counselor at the time of my graduation, attempted to lure me into the family profession; and as a young reckless teenager would do, I held nothing back when I declined to even consider that possibility. My mom recalls me saying, “Oh no! I don’t want to be a teacher, EVER!” when she helped me consider my career choices.

The first day wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be, but it wasn’t great either. I got lost so many times and the only thing more embarrassing than being lost in the hallway is asking someone for directions, which I had to do twice. I only had one class with my friends, but all three of us were in there. And Samantha Kline was in my second period social studies class. We had started hanging out during school for the last month of eighth grade, and I didn’t have her number, but we liked each other. I don’t know about liking each other. I liked her but I didn’t know if she liked me. She was cool. Popular but quiet. And very pretty. She had played basketball in middle school and had practiced with the high school soccer team for the second half

Elementary and middle school was a very interesting experience for me. The school I attended from kindergarten to 8th grade was a diverse school. I had a lot of ups and downs while going there. Overall being there allowed me to grow as a person and introduced me to different things. It also help me achieve high in academics.

I guess my school experience has been one of many trials and tribulations, more of a story of redemption. My intent is to shed a beacon of light onto what I deem to be the beginning chapters of my educational journey.

I live in a suburban town whose families are well-off, each home has hedges trimmed to the needle and the downtown streets are lined with colorful-flags and flowerbeds in the springtime. It is a moderate-sized town but a quiet and simple place to live. Not a lot happens; it is quaintly bustling during the daytime, yet at night not even a car can be spotted parked on main street. The town appears to be an ideal, utopian establishment-- an embodiment of civilization. However, the only high school is bursting at the seams, the students are rowdy, and there is a surplus of rules but apathetic punishment. Troubled kids would wait through a tolerable one hour detention, then go out and reinstate their poor behavior. This evokes many questions about

While most other traditional high school students have four years of high school courses to prepare them for the road ahead whether that path may lead them to college or straight into a job, I decided that this was not the road I wanted to take. I decided that I wanted to skip a step so that I could make it into college more quickly while still acquiring an advanced diploma (four years of each core class are required as well as 3 years of a world language). I filled out the necessary paperwork and began taking extra classes. In my sophomore year of high school, I took US Government as an independent study class through a program called CDS (Center for Diversified studies). They gave me the work and I was expected to complete it without the

Before we went to lunch, I was so furious that I yelled at Mrs. Price, “How can you pretend like everything is okay?” The entire class just stared at me, and Mrs. Price said,”Rachel! We will eat lunch, then accompany the principal in her office!” I knew there was steam coming out of my ears by now, but I didn’t say a word. In the cafeteria, I ate my lunch silently in fear of what I might say.