Personal Narrative: My Years Of Middle School

Starting my 6th-grade year of middle school my dad often said, “I have no clue how to do this problem, sorry but your on your own son.” My family was unfamiliar with the rigorous courses I were taking so I was left to my own devices. This sense of independence is something that has become a part of who I am as a person and is a skill I have developed over time. This fundamental value of independence is something that has shaped my success over the years as well as played a role in Coolidge’s successes in his path towards and during presidency.

As everyone should had experienced, class introductions are given by each person so they can familiarize themselves with everyone else. Everybody stood up giving their names and hobbies that they deemed acceptable for others to hear. Then when it became my time to stand up and speak, I was rock steady. My eyes forward, confidence built, energy seeping through my veins, I spoke aloud my name (Wally since it was easier for everybody rather than Gualberto) and my favorite past time. “Hi! My name Wally Veliz-Suarez, and I enjoy watching cartoons and drawing them as well!” As my own sound faded in the classroom, other more subtle noises emerged. They were sounds of people snickering, whispering “cartoons” and other mockeries. I choose to ignore this at first, but then people began avoiding me. They treated me like I had some sort of sickness or plague. That if they spoke or made contact with me they would suffer the same curse. That is, being left out of any social group and having no friends to speak to or confide in. Due to that, I started developing bad social habits so those around me would notice me. It started like a droplet, with my just increasing the volume of my voice so I could be heard. Then it evolved to a wave of obnoxiousness and bad jokes (not the dirty kind, just the very unfunny sort). Not realizing that the plan was backfiring, I was ignored even more so. I finally gave them a real reason to phase me out of their world. As a ghost, people would only vaguely notice the things I did. The imbecile I was back then didn’t understand that. So I continued on tragic quest of trying to make friends, digging myself deeper in my grave. When it came to working as a group, their actions were more obvious to me. I was the last chosen, or not at all. It was worse when the teacher told the class to stop doing so. Now, like a knife once stabbed into my stomach, the wound of having been openly

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 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).

In elementary school, I liked hanging out with only certain people that I knew I could trust. I didn't really go around trying to make a bunch of other friends because I thought the friends that I did have were going to be my friends for life. When middle school approached, I realized I was wrong. My friend’s attitudes changed and they weren't the nicest to me anymore. I had a hard time trying to find other people to hang out with because I wanted them to have the same interests as me and I wanted to be able to trust them. I ended up finding the perfect group of kids but it took awhile and it was hard to understand why my other friends left me for other people they just met. I also had to start getting used to new classes. In 5th grade when we started Spanish, I wasn't sure if I'd like it because just the homework in my core classes was overwhelming but on top of that I had to learn a new language! Becoming bilingual wasn't nearly as hard as I thought it would be. In fact, being in Spanish helped me do better in my other classes. When I got home, I would tell myself that the sooner I got my other homework done, the sooner I could work on props for Spanish or finish writing the lines for our skit. After a while, I was as cool as a cucumber. I was no longer stressed about Spanish homework or finding new

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.

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.

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

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.

A time I faced a challenge was the beginning of the 7 th grade and my first year of actual middle school. I was not doing well the first few months of school and didn’t understand the work and I was shy and not open enough to talk to my new teachers. I would not understand the material presented in class and was not motivated. Towards the end of the first semester I was failing most of my classes and my highest grade was a C. I did not know what to do with my life I and with all the stress building up on me I didn’t know what to do . Until one day my mom wanted to do something about it and saw me challenging this action helped changed my life.

Middle school for me wasn’t that fun because the teachers seem boring. The reason I found it boring because all of my classes from 6th-8th weren’t all fun because I couldn’t listen to music.Sure I had my friends but the assignments were boring or as exciting.The only time I was excited for something was my 7th grade field trip because it was a day without school, we to Medieval Times, we ate, watch a show and not do work for the whole day.I guess my 8th grade field trip but it was at the end of the school year.the last three days of

Ever since I was a little boy sports, arts and crafts, and fixing cars have always been my talents. My family has always should me new things and my main lesson was to always be polite, generous, and work hard. When I was in elementary school I use to play every sport but it never compared to when I played basketball. Once I reached fifth grade I was only playing basketball and bowling. After elementary I started taking school and basketball to a whole new level. Basketball and school were life to me and everyday it was school, basketball, and homework everyday for all three years of middle school. My last year of middle school was the best. All my friends made the team so it was like playing basketball with your friends at lunch. So basketball

Middle school years were my least favorite years of school. The kids that I thought were my friends had become my biggest enemies. I will admit that in middle school I wasn’t the skinniest girl at the school. I had gained weight over the summer and was too oblivious to see it. Now that I am in high school I really wish that I wouldn’t have let those kids bother me so much.

I remember dreading going to school everyday. I started to think there was something wrong with me. That I had a problem. It was at that point in time I decided my plan of action. I became a piece of clay. I can’t think of any other way to say it. I took all the personality out of myself and acted how everyone thought I should act. I sort of started playing a character. Sure, my character was based off myself, but I stopped showing my real emotions and opinions. I was a walking joke. I did what other people thought was funny and that’s about it. Fast forward to three years later. It’s sixth grade and I still am a huge pushover. Over the last three years, my character is becoming more and more like me, but still doesn't do anything unless they're trying to be funny. I had developed a decent sized group of friends and was pretty well liked (I think). When I inevitably realized what I was doing, holding back my true emotions and thoughts, almost subconsciously, to keep a group of friends. I don’t mean having a filter. Having a filter is when you make sure not to curse in front of your grandmother or keep information to yourself because it’s personal. I ,of course, did that, but also kept things secret that I thought clashed with the character I made for myself. I became really upset. I thought my friends didn’t like me, that they only liked the character I had become. My solution was to stop talking to

Ever felt that your best wasn’t good enough? That's exactly what I felt during my years in middle and high school. Growing up enjoying animated shows and doodling in my notebook, I had a breakthrough. Though it came to me in my first year of middle school, or at least as far back as I can remember, I wanted to grow up as an artist. As the years went by I narrowed my dream-job to be an animator, then finally to what I’m studying now (graphic design). As I grew and learned, I eventually succumbed to self pity and doubt. That went on till my last year in high school where I learned better. These days, I’m bettering myself by doing more and practicing more often with my art. I also grasped the idea of not letting the negative thoughts stop me from