When I was in first grade I had no friends. I moved a lot so it was hard to make friends because every time I made one I ended up moving. I just moved from New Hampshire to Maine. It was my first day of school. I was sitting all alone when this girl named Amaya came up to me. she asked why I was sitting all alone. I was really shy when I was younger so I didn't reply to her. I just kept looking at her scared to say anything, because she was the first person other than the teacher that talk to me at school that day. she could already tell I was shy and she felt so so bad so she moved next to me. I was scared and surprised to see her talking to me. I didn't think she was going to move next to me because she just said it but I thought
My parents came to America with no understanding of English, nor had they ever gone to college or finished high school. Both of their situations set a precedent for how my elementary school life could roll out. To begin with, the first days of school for me as a tiny girl who adored jumping around on all the furniture possible in her house and who hated sitting for more than ten seconds did not turn out as expected. The lump in my throat hid under my appearance: two curly mud brown pigtails, a navy blue skirt with an untucked white shirt, and the mask of a smile my parents begged me to keep all day. At first, the mask my parents told me to keep on stayed attached to my face. Yet, as minutes seemed to turn into hours, the constant thought of
I have always played the same three sports in elementary school, baseball, soccer and basketball but the summer before 7th grade I wanted the try something new and play football but because I didn't know much about it I was having a hard time deciding if I was going to play or not. But When football season came around i signed up.
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
Automotive industry pioneer Henry Ford once said,“Obstacles are those frightful things you see when you take your eyes off your goal”. Each and every day I live by this quote when thinking about my future and the obstacles that lay ahead. One hurdle that I can think to be the toughest is the transition from Elementary to Middle School. This was very terrifying for me as 11 year old juvenile. So what did I do? I made friends, did my best on my work, and looked toward the future. I wanted and still want my future to be finishing high school with honors, and working for United Airlines as a Captain. As a Sophomore in Park View High School, I have very much so passed the transition from Elementary to Middle, and feel good about how I overcame
Harry Potter, Junie B. Jones, Narnia, Lemony Snicket, Hunger Games, Lord of the Rings, Goosebumps, Magic Tree House, and the Boxcar Children: Popular book series that most kids get into. I never did. Ever since school required mandatory reading, I perceived books as hassles. School effectively turned me off of reading for pleasure. Going into middle school, where students have regular book reports and summer reading, I faced a challenge. To make it by I had to learn to live with books, as they played an integral part to my career as a student. However, my current state of mind labeled reading a hassle and wanted nothing to do with it, necessitating change. Transitioning from elementary to middle school, I matured both physically and intellectually.
My transition into high school was as easy as taking a breath. I had always found school quiet easy and I never had to put much effort into getting promising grades. Before high school I had my whole life figured out, or at least I thought I did. I had planned that I would attend a law school or major in English. After a while of being in high school I started to realize many things. My parents did not have the financial stability to send me to a law school, I was not as smart as all the other kids, little by little I began struggling with a negative mentality about myself and my future. I slowly let go of my dream of becoming a lawyer and decided to join the Health Careers Academy. Soon enough, I began to have a deep interest in the medical field but then again I continued to have the same question; how can I afford going to a medical school? I did not know much about college or what it took to get into college. I assumed I just had to have a pretty transcript and that was all it took. My self confidence began to lower as I saw how other students cruised through their high school years so effortlessly. I never wanted to ask for help because I did not want to seem “dumb”. I would bite my tongue and hold in all the unanswered questions I had. My junior year, I was having a very difficult time. I had a tight schedule which consisted of almost all AP or honors courses. I slowly began to give up because I did not believe that I could do it. I let my grades slip failing almost
Have you ever wanted to do something very bad? So you done it anyway? It was between my 8th grade and my freshman year. I made a horrible mistake, but I learned something really valuable. I wish I never did what I did, but if I didn’t do it. I wouldn’t of learned the lesson I did. I lied to my parents.
Since I started my college, the pattern that continuously happening is sitting in the front row of the class. It was happened in my life when I was in the elementary school, but it wouldn’t stay that long, which I moved to the last row of the class. One day, my friend contacts me to improve my pattern by starting to sitting in front by giving good advices, and it works on it. I used Skinner theory, operant conditioning, to support my pattern. I also used the positive and negative reinforcement example to describe my pattern briefly. While, by sitting in the front row, I start to improve my grades by giving attention to the teachers and listen carefully.
Inspirations are not always easy to come by. You must be open to new experiences in order to find inspiration. Growing up, I was the shy, nerdy girl who always followed the rules and was nervous to try new things; that ofcourse changed as time passed. In our capstone class we are assigned a middle school student that we can mentor and help get out of their shell. The closest person that I had to a mentor was Casey Rainbolt.
Enter from the left, an undersized, awkwardly slow, roly poly. This is the visual I would use to best describe middle school me. At this peculiar point in my life I was really getting into paintball. One weekend over spring break, me and my friend Wesley go to the paint park. If there was ever a day to go to the paintball park, it was that weekend. The paint park was running a special and the place had more people than the ocean had anchovies. I mean it was like the scene from World War Z where the zombies are making giant mounds of zombie in order to scale the wall surrounding Jerusalem. The official count was thirty seven. It actually was a really bad paint park, I am pretty sure they didn’t even have a bathroom. I only went to it because
When I received the grade for my first exam, I was shocked. I was confident in myself but I didn’t think I would’ve scored that high. Though I received an 84, it was the best grade I could’ve gotten. With all the material that the professor went over through lecture and the material from the book was a tremendous amount to remember.
My whole life, I’ve been terrified by two things. Pitbulls, and heights. My irrational fear of heights really Held me back in middle school. We had to do rock climbing.
I remember the very first time I had felt different; I was in the earlier years of elementary school. One day while sitting along a large round carpet with the rest of my classmates, I noticed that right away my curly brown hair and tanned skin could be easily spotted among the sea of fair-skinned children. I understood that everyone was made to be different, but I found it odd that no one looked even remotely similar to me.
In sixth grade, I had Mrs. Peterson as my homeroom teacher. She was a great math teacher and a very nice person. Mrs. Peterson made hard math formulas and problems easy to understand. When I was in her class, I smiled every day.