Personal Narrative: Life After The End Of Middle School

Going through high school the days were all the same, except for game days. There was just something different about the culture of the school. You could almost feel the excitement in the air. Every “Good luck tonight,” that was received made it feel like the whole school was rooting for me. This was my senior year and tonight was an especially big game. The game that night would decide if we made playoffs and if I could step on the court as a Hawk again.

Before the first grade, we moved around a few times before ending up here in Sylvania. As a child, both my parents worked full time jobs and I was always at after school day cares or at my grandparents houses, never really got to spend a lot of time with friends or was able to socialize with many people. So growing up most of my time was spent with my brother and I thought nothing of it. As I grew up I began to realize that I had become stuck in some bad habits. My brother and I weren't asked to help around the house much but when we were we never listened. But to my surprise there were no consequences for our disobedience. At the time I thought I had it good. Around the time I got too middle school I began to realize the problem. I began

I was never the type of kid to standout in school especially not in the hallway. I was never too tall, never too short, not too scrawny, but the one thing I like to do is make people laugh. Yet even though that was very fun and all I still leave my legacy behind, which as weird, as this sounds, I was the one kid teachers never took seriously, but for the most part I never got that bad of a grade, in middle school(except when it came to 7th grade language arts class).

From my experience, surviving middle school takes a mixture of luck, naive fearlessness, and an aggressive number of colorful plastic binders. I started my first day of fifth grade a jumbled mess of nerves, anxious about making friends and doing well in class, and inexplicably dressed head-to-toe in red, white, and blue swag my mom got when the Summer Olympics were in Atlanta. I mean, my backpack matched my shoelaces, which matched my pants and my shirt. I might have even had a hat. A hat. A precisely matching hat. That I wore all day. Needless to say, I was not a particularly cool child. I studied hard, had a core group of equally nerdy friends, and constantly worried about whether I was doing the right thing or, perhaps more accurately, becoming the right thing. Was I not studying hard enough to get into college? Or maybe studying too hard, missing out on my youth? Would I grow into my teeth one day? Would my skin eventually stop looking like greasy peanut brittle?

As I went through 1-9 grade school I finally found grit. Going to St. Mary’s during 1-6 grade school getting up at 6:30 every morning just wanting to hit the snooze button so I could get that extra hour of sleep in. After getting ready for school, I would get on the bus, three stops later we would pick up these annoying foster kids that gave me a headache every day because they would shut their mouths that I would have to push through school with. Then building up all the energy sitting in 1-2 classrooms the whole day waiting for recess so I could let it all out. Since I pushed through those challenges, I was able to move on to middle school. During my two years of middle school three out of the five days of school, I would get up at 5:30 and

When I hear the word “survival”, I think of someone who has made it through the impossible or conquered a near death experience; but that isn't all that it means. According to the the Merriam Webster dictionary, “A survivor is a person who copes well with difficulties in their life.” Moving from elementary school to middle school taught me many new characteristics such as how to be more independent, responsible, and more open to changes.

“Jovanie, I’m going to have to let you go,” my coach said to me in a nonchalant voice. My stomach started twisting in a million knots and I felt my eyes watering, but I was not going to let them fall… yet. “Not here, not now” I reassured myself. I slowly walked off the bus trying to act unbothered, but I was. Everybody that knew me understood what track was to me. However, starting off in a different school as a freshman, where nobody knew me was hard. I had to prove to them that I was a good runner, but I have failed.

I remember when it was time to go from being a 12 year old 6th grader, to a 12 year old middle schooler with a lot more responsibilities than I was used to having. I had to make sure all my homework was done on time (It took me awhile to get the idea of no late homework hammered into my head), asked for help when I needed it the teacher wasn’t going to help as much as the elementary teachers would do unless I asked, with asking for help was a lot harder than I thought it would be everyone was confused too, after awhile the teacher finally got tired of running around the room jumping from student to student, marched up to the front of the class and wrote on the board of how to do a certain assignment.

The end of 8th grade. Alex and I had spent so much time together. We fought a lot though, we hated each other for some time but in an instant we told each other we loved one another and went on to spend lots of time together. This happened many times during 7th and 8th grade. We built a couple groups of people that we would hang out with. Alex and I had made at least 20 close friends that we could hang out with any lunch or brunch. We had grown to be so close, and at the end of eighth grade he told me that he was moving. I felt horrible. I had made lots of friends, but the one person that I spent every day with was him. Alex and I spent a lot of time together before he left. But then he had to leave. I was kind of lost, I had friends but no

Change scared me. Coming to HMS for the first time as a 7th grader terrified me. As the summer came to an end, I worried about getting around the school, meeting new people, and the change in my sleeping habits and schedule. Thoughts rushed through my head about going to the Middle School for the first time. The first day of seventh grade came quick and I was ready to start a new year. My dad drove me to the front of the school and I exited the car saying good bye. I was unsure where any of my classrooms were and I only recognized a few people in my homeroom. The Middle School was far larger then I remember from the tour that ARIS provided. I wasn’t use to no recess, and the formation of the lunch lines. Going into seventh grade, I was clueless

So the first thing I want to talk about is how middle school changed my life. When I was first coming into middle school, I was really scared and nervous about a lot of things like not being able to open your locker, bad people, swearing, and a lot of other stuff. Once I first came into middle school, things were, well a lot different than expected. I had no problem opening my locker, the “scary” people weren’t that scary, and swearing was just blocked out of my mind. I really wasn’t that nervous the next day and I just went on going to classes and learning like I usually did. Now about a few months into the school year, I kept on meeting people and making more friends. Little did I know that I would meet my best friend. Like BEST FRIEND.

What I thought 7th grade was going to be like was that we wouldn’t have free time after lunch I thought we would go to lunch and then go back to class but I was wrong. I didn’t think I was going to like Marlette high school. I guess I did after a month or so I started likening it. I thought it was going to be hard because of all of the older kids in the grade. I know half of the upper grade people. But I was afraid of the people I didn’t know.

I started school when I was five years old. I went to kindergarten – third grade at Ida Greene Lower Elementary School. I attended O.M.McNair Upper Elementary School fourth – sixth grade. My seventh and eighth grade year I was enrolled at Humphreys County Junior High School. While enrolled in junior high, I experienced my first one day suspension for skipping class and being on the high school end. My friend and I attempted to write a false excuse along with forwarding a teacher’s signature, but that failed. Yes, I received a punishment from my mother and it was not a GOOD punishment!! In addition, ninth – twelfth grade I attended Humphreys County High School where I graduated with the dynamic class of 2014. I graduated with honors also.

During the days of being in elementary school life was stress free and it was fun not worrying about a single thing like regents or even getting ready for college except only thinking about your birthday, Christmas, and the summer. Well for some kids those memories could be happy but for others they want to erase it from history like me because I firsthand experience being bully every day from students in my class and sometimes students outside the class. What made it worse is I was in the second grade and lost my only friend in the class that would back me up because he had to move and I became alone and targeted in class.  At the same time the only reason certain student talk to me and be friendly was because of my mother and the reason was

It’s the end, high school is finally over. It’s finally graduation day, and a wave of emotion hit, and I’ve never been hit with a wave quite this hard, not even at the beach. I’m not the type to get sad, but as I walk around in my long draping gown, my cap the doesn’t quite fit because of my abnormally large head, and my state championship ring I can’t help but be overwhelmed with emotion. Being the guy that I am I ignore it as always and I continue going around to teachers and give them hugs, thanking them for the help they’ve given me. Watching everyone take pictures, crying, talking about their futures, and how “they’ll have to meet up sometime” as if they’re moving to another country when they are just really moving to the next town over. I swore the day before, the week before, even months before I would be sad, and wouldn’t know what to do with myself when today actually comes, but I can’t seem to find the emotions. All of them are on the inside and won’t come out. On the inside I feel sad, and upset and I want to just hug everyone and cry, but I can’t. I don’t have time to think about crying, because of all the chaos going on around me. We only got one practice in ahead of time, just about nobody actually listened to what we are supposed to be doing, so everyone’s doing their own thing. I walk through the halls and realize this is my final last. I’ve had my last soccer game, I’ve attended my last football game and cheered them onto another loss, and now in