Personal Narrative: My School Of Middle School

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.

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?

I was a first grader at Esqueda Elementary School. I had a mean teacher that never let you go to the restroom no matter how many times you asked. Would call your parents if you didn't finish your homework. I would get distracted easily and would never comprehend what I read and when she would ask me a question about a page we read and I would never give her an answer because I was not paying attention. Because of that, she flunked me and while everyone else got moved up to 2nd grade. I was still stuck in the first grade and had to meet new friends. I did not repeat the same grade with the same teacher, I had a nicer teacher and she did not flunk me. I did not go to the second grade there. I was transferred into a different school which is Eisenhower

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

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.

I went to three different middle schools. The first middle school I went to was Baldwin Arts and Academics Magnet. This was probably the best middle school out of the three. I had the most and best friends. They were all different, and they loved and understood me. The two things I hated about Baldwin were the stairs and the miles our P.E. Coach would make us run. The teachers were sweet for the most part, and even though I didn't do well because I wasn't accustomed to magnet school, they helped me as much as they could. The transition from public school to magnet school proved too tough for me, so I had to go to another school.

It was a normal school day at Brookhurst Jr. High in 7th Period were my friends and I were talking and waiting for the bell to ring so we could all go home and the school day would be over. Before I left I needed to go to the bike racks to get my skateboard so I could ride it home.

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

In November, the air is cool and burns my face. The wind passes through my nose and it feels as if I am breathing in a thousand miniature razors. My finger tips and ears are numb. My right side aches where I had been elbowed in the ribs and my ankle from where I tripped just up the field. I hear my mom in the crowd, “Go, baby, go!” Even though, every muscle in my body screams for me to stop, I go. The pain does not bother me, neither does the cold. I am just happy to be here.

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.

Middle school. The scariest place imaginable, at least for me. It’s my first time in a public school, all my life I have gone to California School for the deaf. I don’t know what everyone is going to think about me, i’m so scared but my mom tells me it’ll be good for me to experience the “real world”. It’s only me and my mom, my dad died when I was 6, he was in the marines. But it’s my first day of school and i’m really freaking out. But at least I will have my friend Emma, she lives one house away from me and were best friends. She’s not deaf, so at first it was hard for us to become friends. But one day she looked up on the internet how to say “Hi i’m Emma, let’s be friends” in sign language, and now we’re inseparable.

While growing up I only moved once from a quiet and tranquil apartment to a home near a train and friendly neighbors. The move wasn't that drastic due to me being young but I had to start school. School was very startling at first but as the days went on I became a bit more open. My family was a big help in that too because they talked to me about being myself and I shouldn't be shy when around strangers.

Middle school was quite a bit different from my younger life. I was moving to a different school, starting football, going from being very short to above average tall and learning that school was much harder now. Football was definitely taking over my life and would continue for the duration of my education at the middle school. I had broken my finger my first season in first grade and then again the second year. The first time hurt pretty bad but by the second time I had done it I continued to play with it taped tight to my other fingers. To fix the second break from the extra damage of using it so much the doctor decided to pop it. It only got worse from there so we went to a different doctor and they gave me a cast. Later we learned that