Personal Narrative: More Meme Fail

When I sat down and read this prompt, I thought it was the worst prompt that could ever put on the list because it made me feel so vulnerable and weak. I was asking myself why would I admit to people, especially college admission officers that I had actually failed at something, not just one but plethora? I thought wouldn’t they look down on me for that, knowing that I’m not always successful at what I do? At the same I thought to myself, what is Failure? Is it not measuring up to standards or simply making an attempt without achieving the desired outcome?

After that moment, I no longer saw myself as an intelligent kid who was unable to fail, but one who was and could be challenged by failure and challenged to learn from my mistakes. After revising the essay, I received an “A+,” yet this was not what made me happy. The fact that I, the twelve-year-old boy who had previously rejected failure as a possibility, could accept failure (by my standards) and use it as

It has been moments just before the start of the AP World History exam and my mind was already clouded with uncertainty. Utensil and sheet in front, my hands were trembling with fright, a cold sense in my chest, feet unstable as if suffering from an intense spasm. An immense pressure persisted within me as if drawing the weight of all my burdens. Looking around the environment felt frigid. A quick glance around saw faces of fellow comrades, each one fixated on the very same sheet in front of me. While five minutes had past, the familiar feelings of complete incompetence still persisted within me. I was unable to recall on my own proficiency: facts and concepts to which I spent months prior memorizing vigorously. Moreover, I was a sophomore taking my first AP exam, yet succumbing to the same old mental disintegration.

As I stood on the outside of the arena watching teen girls traditional finish dancing, my stomach filled with butterflies. I walked into the arena as the announcer says “Next up teen girl's jingle,” with all the other dancers in my category. It was Sunday, the last day of Indian Summer Pow Wow, and my last contest for this pow wow, this year. Although I was nervous, I was also filled with happiness, confidence, and gratefulness. “Take it away boys” the announcer says. That’s when I knew that the drum group was going to start playing and this meant I had to start dancing.

Starting on only one test, then another. It was then time for me to take the last portion of the test. Normally, craving to write I really felt this was it, surely I was going to pass. Getting started, I began reading The rules: 60 timed minutes, 600 words or more, pick two Historical figures, Don’t forget to do your draft, revised draft and final. That’s when it hit me, wouldn’t I be writing about something I enjoyed? But, I was writing about something someone told me to write. Starting to tap and move my feet I couldn’t help it, overwhelmed and Tired. To add in more I scrolled down to find not only do I have to write, but having to read the excerpts of those characters and compare and contrast them. Now, with not finishing high school. Honestly, I had no clue what compare and contrast had meant. Or really how was I supposed to write this essay.

For my personal narrative, I have to write about a hero of mine, my hero is my best friend, Kat. Kat is my hero for multiple reasons, such as making me a better person, and a happier one. She also helps me edit and draw a lot of the time, which helps because she is super good at both those things.

My freshman year of high school, I failed. It wasn’t grades, it wasn’t socially. I felt I had failed myself. My freshman year I didn’t make the junior varsity team, but remained on the freshman team. This may not seem like a failure; however, it meant a lot more to me than simply not making the team.

After I told rowdy that “I'm sick of indian guys who treat white women like bowling trophies”.Get a life.I kinda felt bad for what I said but then again i didn't because he was a trader and i felt as if he left me for white pride.maybe I was just racist and couldn't accept that my best friend was going to do great things is his life now that he had a chance.later that day i decided to email Junior back and kinda talk to him about women.”Hey asshole , i didn't mean to insult you..but dude really what do you really like about her and how did you attract her.junior replied and said.

Life has many wonderful lessons, but then there is failure. Everyone fails at something; I happen to have failed at high school essays. These experiences at the time were gut wrenching. Receiving a "D" on a paper is no fun, but it has also allowed me to learn about not only writing, but myself as a whole. I expect to use my past awful experiences writing to change and mold my expectations in future writing.

I turn my alarm off for the sixth time before I finally glance at the clock. It's 5:45 A.M. I overslept. I rush to shower, get dressed, and brush my teeth. Then expertly apply concealer in an effort to hide the bags under my eyes. There's not enough time left for me to eat breakfast or blow dry my hair so I grab a to-go shake -the same as yesterday- and throw my hair into a bun. It's 6:30 and I'm standing at the foot of my driveway using my phone as a flashlight since the moon can't light my path because it's hidden behind the clouds. Eventually the bus pulls up and I sit through the same tired silence as the week before.

I breathed a sigh of relief as I read a stream of texts from my friends complaining about our AP Language and Composition class summer homework. It was the night before the first day of junior year, and they anxiously texted how they weren’t even close to being done or how they seemed to get severe writers block. I, on the other hand, had not only finished our analytical movie review assignment a week before, but had it proofread, printed, and ready to turn in during class the next day. I was confident and proud of my work and went to bed filled with the typical first day of school jitters.

Street lights turn off one by one, my eyes slowly shut as if I'm going to sleep, my hands have no control of the steering wheel I noticed that my car's speed was gradually increasing,my eyes screwed shut in fear.The car swerves and drifts off the road and hits a tree.My head hits the middle of the steering wheel, my air bags do not deploy my stomach straining against my belt as I struggled to move.My eyes are shut but I can still hear, sirens of ambulances but barely could understand what others are saying it's almost like they were speaking another language, I try to stand up but I have no energy to do so I try to move but my body won react.I feel trapped in my own flesh and blood.All my memories flash in from the past all my dreams and goals I could've achieved but instead, I hanged out in the clubs ,took unhealthy supplements and got drunk all day, they were taunting me,most likely haunting me.I start to tear up my thoughts kept saying “you’re a failure” “You’re a loser” it just kept repeating and repeating,it just didn't stop I was

In high school, I felt that a vital part of my education was missing my freshman year since we did not have to take any social studies class. This made me feel like we had been cheated in some way. So, when I had the choice of taking college prep World History or Advanced Placement European History the following year, I chose to take AP because I felt like history should be something challenging that forces one to think and question information. I knew it would be rigorous, but if history doesn’t make you think critically, it carries no meaning. However, the first semester didn’t go well and I failed. Frustrated by this failure and feeling powerless, I dug in my heels the second semester and began to study more and yet still wasn’t getting the answers right. On the night before the AP European Test, I made one final attempt to atone for my lackluster study skills earlier in the year by reading my textbook cover-to-cover. It worked because I passed with a three on the AP exam and felt motivated to do better come eleventh grade. I no longer stayed up all night or had to read the textbooks cover-to-cover for AP US History class or AP English Language and Composition class. Although not my first language, I had an adequate command of the English language and crafting my words in a unique way. I had been studying U.S. History and so I giggled with glee when I saw the essay topics, confident I would excel. When I received my test results this past July, I thought to myself, “It's bizarre to have learned so much about a place that isn't your own

The beauty of writing about a time you failed at something is that you also naturally present yourself as very human, humble and vulnerable, and someone with the maturity to recognize when you messed up.

In conclusion I just want to be sure when you fail you realize why you failed. Failure can be a great success as you have read in my examples. At first it may not seem so but as we analyze our failures we can become a much greater success than before we failed. I have taken advice from many people in my life, most of them much older than I. I like to hear what people have to say about their failures and success because most of the time they are closely related. We can also learn from others who have failed before we fail on our own. I think failure is often overlooked as good education. I believe failure to be one of our best learning tools. So, I hope you can fail and become successful, I hope you can fail with confidence, I hope you fail to