Personal Narrative: My Habits At Elko Middle School

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).

Prompt: Some students have a background, identity, interest, or talent that is so meaningful they believe their application would be incomplete without it. If this sounds like you, then please share your story.

The pencil liberates my stresses and sorrows. Bare and unimpeded, my mind is able to isolate itself from anything that was happening in my life. At my art table, which is merely an escape from reality, my curiosity is able to wander. Within this room, five blank canvas's look in on me as I become a mold of my imagination. A step inside my world develops into a sea of color and exploration. The vibrancy of the walls resonates throughout. Over the years, my room has served as my oasis. It’s my escape from monotonous and mundane routines. It’s my exploration of another side of me. I observe such works of art almost as much as I create. Taking notice of my classmates’ innovations and inspired by their creativity, my paintbrush begins to alleviate stress. I strive to produce pieces others will appreciate, but often find myself to be the true admirer. My pride, in this world, is driven simply by my own curiosity to express myself. I credit this side of me as the “passion” that supplements my insane drive for success. This passion has sparked critical thinking in me as well as how I see failure. Life is a blank canvas and you can truly draw whatever you want, and if you fail, you start over and don’t make that same mistake again! Hard work takes ideas quite far, but true success is derived from ingenuity and the generation of

“Creativity is contagious, pass it on.” Albert Einstein, famous physicist, had once said this. It’s true, as when others are producing ideas or creating solutions to things, you in turn start to think of your own. Yet, a lot of the times when I think of this statement, it reminds me of myself and art. In my free time, I love to look at other’s art and see their reasoning behind the picture – and then find myself start drawing the next second, feeling inspired by that particular artists reasoning. Every day if I can, I’ll look at all sorts of works by artists – sculptures, paintings, sometimes even dolls! Weirdly, I find myself always going back to the simple drawings on a paper and then making a few drawings of my own. Thus bringing a

My time at Elk County Catholic High School is something that I will cherish for the rest of my life. I have made a large amount of memories throughout the past four years, especially on the sporting surfaces. I am upset about graduating in less than a month, but I am also excited to begin a new chapter in my life. I simply want to be remembered as a kid who made the most out oh his experience in high school. It has been my goal to keep good grades, along with having the most fun possible. This starts with spending time with my friends. I never pass on an opportunity to spend time with those whom I have made countless memories with since elementary school. I also made it a priority to play as many sports as possible. Sports in general are my

When I first stood at the bottom of the B-building stairs on August 19, 2013, almost every sixth grader was anxious. We were all waiting for the three-chime bell, and when it did ring, we all stampeded up the stairs like a herd of elephants. But I don’t think that it had ever come to me or any of my peers that change would hit every student, including myself at fifty miles per hour and as loudly as the sound of our feet running up the stairs.

Choices. Regardless if the choice is good or bad, everybody makes them. There are times where the choices people make can alter their lives forever; this was one of those times. It was April 26, 2013, a normal friday for me attending West Middle School in my sixth grade year. At the time, I was the definition of an attention freak; I always wanted the spotlight on me. For a reason still not known to this day, I wanted people to feel bad for me. I thought that by gaining sympathy, I would be able to make friends and be the talk of the school. What I didn’t realize is that not all attention is good; some can be devastating. Unfortunately for me, I was not thinking about the effects of the choice that I was about to make. I couldn’t have possibly

Although I would not have considered myself a leader when I entered Arlington High School, I can safely say that the past four years have changed me into quite the opposite. As I gained confidence in my abilities to lead and make a difference throughout high school, I began to take more initiative of my impact on the community by running for leadership positions and tutoring.

In Middle School, where we were still growing up as adults, we did not like following the rules. I was in 9th grade. That day the bell rang for our next class and me and my friends did not want to go to our next class right away. We waited outside the room for our next class and chilled and talked. Me and my friends were in class all day and we wanted to let go of some energy. We kept talking and if our teacher came, we would go into the class right away. Our school did not like students to hang out in the hallway because they made too much noise. We did not care, we still chilled outside the class. We talked about new shoes and what we were going to do after school. It was so much fun because I had not seen my friends since 8th grade and it was the

I walked into the loud building so scared and nervous. I couldn't believe today was the day. The day i'm finally in middle school. That day was the day that I could officially call myself a Vista Verde Middle School student. When I walked into the building the bell had rung for us to proceed to class. On my I spotted one of my very good friends, Esmeralda. After I said hi to her I walked to my first period class which is room 403 and my teacher is Ms. Blasnek.

My parents were never the ones to send their children to classes. While other kids were busy being tutored, swimming at the community center, or sent to a studio for art: I was the one at home staring at the television or playing with my cars as my only source of entertainment. Eventually, I grew tired and would do whatever was available to me, I would pick up pen and paper and I'd draw: and before I knew it, I became obsessed. Every flat surface became a victim of my addiction. Even my bedroom ceiling had drawings taped to it. Gradually, a minuscule spark of passion for art was lit inside of me.

Back when in the day when I went to Lincoln Intermediate schools my group of friends was nothing but trouble, they used to trash the bathrooms, sneak out of class, and even get into fights. In math class 5th grade with Mrs.Rozen we always had the ability at the end of class to go down to the commons and take a bathroom break and sit down there for a little bit. One time we had class like normal but we had a sub and no one was behaving, she let us go down to take our daily bathroom break in the commons and that is when everything fell apart. At that very moment in time I was sitting in the commons waiting and when I went into the bathroom it was a disaster there was soup everywhere on the walls, on the mirror and even in the stalls. Our sub soon found out and everyone in the bathroom at that time got in trouble.

I learned some important things in my sixth grade year at Cascade Middle School. I

Middle school, when that word pops up in one’s head, it’s a sudden reminder of dreadfulness,broken promises,regrets,first crushes, and last but not least, learned lessons. Another morning had brought another school day. Seeing familiar faces and teachers I just wanted to get through the day with no trouble, but that’s not always the case. At least it wasn’t for me. Making my way through the extended halls and walls that seemed to enclose upon me, I felt nothing more than like a chained prisoner. The bell rung and I remained seated in my class, surrounded by boxed, outdated computers and rusty white walls, I felt helpless.

Sweat saturated every crease and contour of my hands as I neared the front of the lunch line. Inch by solemn inch, I crept closer—anxiety overwhelming me. What will they think of me? Will they laugh at me? Before I could muse their possible perceptions, I found myself at the end of the line.