In the school year of 2015-2016, I am a high school student now. I should be excited for this upcoming school. However, I felt nervous about this school year. I lay in my bed until my mom called me many times. After eating my wonderful breakfast, my mom and younger sister asked to get ready for school. I didn’t want to change my pajama. My dad called me from the downstair, “Iris, hurry up. It is time to school now.” I was unhappy to get out of my room. Even though I have been in the Memorial High School many times before this school year, I was afraid of being in my first day of school.
After reading the article of “The First Day of Middle School” by Allan, Mucerino, a principal in Ensign Intermediate School, I had the exact feeling as this
To many freshman the first day of high school is the opening chapter of a new novel, a fresh start to a sometimes embarrassing middle school experience we would all just love to erase from our memories. August 13th, 2012 was the beginning of my four year long narrative at Cypress Bay High School. Despite my desperate desire to grow up, become an adult, and move far away from my parents for college all that did not seem possible because I had never previously attended a public school. I was struck with fear that I would not be able to adjust to the fast pace dynamics of a large high school.
Before the first grade, we moved around a few times before ending up here in Sylvania. As a child, both my parents worked full time jobs and I was always at after school day cares or at my grandparents houses, never really got to spend a lot of time with friends or was able to socialize with many people. So growing up most of my time was spent with my brother and I thought nothing of it. As I grew up I began to realize that I had become stuck in some bad habits. My brother and I weren't asked to help around the house much but when we were we never listened. But to my surprise there were no consequences for our disobedience. At the time I thought I had it good. Around the time I got too middle school I began to realize the problem. I began
Learning that school is something to be glad about was one aspect I will never forget. School helps spark and form the character of discovery in one’s mind. To find problems in the world’s society and attempt to fix them so future generations will not be forced to make that same mistake. Other than social media, education is the most powerful tool to train an adolescent’s mind. Coming from the Nobleboro Central School I have this story. The first trimester was a long one, I had never presented a project before and didn’t know the first thing about talking out loud in front of a class. Also, my English was considerably bad with papers handed in, in rough draft form. My English is still a little rusty, although my past teachers have guided me past the few trimesters preparing me for an average High School paper. Concludingly, the first trimester of public school was a real learning experience with mostly a C average in most of my classes which left room for improvement. The second trimester I had an understanding of school and was trying more and more on improving how I could understand teachers. This time of education at public school was the aha moment wherein I could explore the true reasons of presentations, tests and open book exams. The third and final trimester was a matter of consistency in grades. Because of this, most of my trimester average grades were in the B+/A range. Thankfully, because of this I had finished the 8th grade with most subjects having a yearly average of a
I was starting my first day at a new school. My palms were sweaty, my heart was thumping, and I had butterflies in my stomach. I took a deep breath and walked towards the grey doors. I thought about what the new school would be like; how the teachers were and how the students were. I missed my friends from my old school. I walked through those big grey doors to a whole new place.
Barry couldn't believe that it was morning already, he went to sleep at 1 a.m because he stayed up binge watching his favorite show.“Barry wake up, it's 7:30!” Diana yelled as she rushed into her son's room. “Mom! Why didn't you wake me up earlier?, it's the first day of school!” was what came out Barry’s mouth although he knew that it was his fault like always. Barry stared at his alarm clock, which was completely silent, no noise or numbers reflecting off the screen to let Barry know that it was time to get ready for his first day of middle school. The day brightened considerably, the shadows were stretching in the opposite direction from what Barry had seen yesterday in his first day in New York. His father, Daniel, and Diana rush into the car since it was Daniel’s first day as well, at his new job in the famous World Trade Center. "Ready for your big day today champ?”, Barry didn't answer because of the memories that rushed through his brain of all his friends, teachers, and his grandpa.
In middle school normally when you enter you don’t really know anybody. Maybe you might see some friends from elementary and hangout with them. Also, the morning that you meet up with some friends you can go and look for your classes. I personally love the first day because I get to meet my teachers and catch up with my friends! Some teachers may give you homework on the first day to see were you are at. The same thing with test they might give you a test on the first day to see were you are at. Normally they don’t count it against you. When you go to each class they ask you what you need for their class. When my first day here at middle school I was nervous because it was an new school and I was bigger. I met new friends on the first day.
Starting middle school was a mixture of anxiety and excitement. There was a brand new campus to explore, but we were also nervously anticipating the academic program that was about to begin. Most of my grade had been together since the age of four and by this time there were clear social divides. There were the girls who were seen as popular, and then there was everybody else. You could say that I was part of the popular crowd, though at the time I didn’t notice myself standing apart from the others. As a group of friends we got on well, we’d hang out, go to the cinema, have sleepovers, all the usual things friends do. Then things gradually started to change.
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?
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 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.
My first day of middle school was extremely difficult for me. I was nervous in my first class, I took a seat next to people that I knew in all my classes. There is no work on the first day, and the teachers basically tell you the same thing. As for lunch, I just found a friend that I used to hang out with last year, and then I found other people from my group from last year, we found a table and ate. I knew that I will like it a lot more than elementary school. In the middle I learned that I needed to work harder and become wiser. Not to let people get in my way of my education. I liked having several teachers instead of just one or teachers. I did not like sitting down in one class all day and I like to move around. I got the opportunity to have new people in each one of my classes. Finally going to middle school gave me to get a new experience. For some reason they work in middle school became easier for me instead of harder. I always thought going to a new school that the work
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
There's ups and there's downs, twists and turns lessons to be learned. A lost young boy trying to get through day by in a world that seemed a little bit too unfair. In middle school i didn't understand, i had no care in the world i thought I was invincible, no worries, no problem. I took my reality and turned into a dream to deal with the nightmares that haunted me at night. I just needed a second chance, i needed an awakening. Looking back on it now i wish i never taken the chances i had and opportunities granted.
It was the first day of middle school and so much had changed in just a few months. It wasn't because I was going to a new school, it was because 7th grade was the year I decided I was going to wear the hijab. A hijab is a scarf Muslim women decide on wearing as a cover for their hair; a way to show modesty. I never thought that something that I had grown up around; would be such a hard thing to do myself. I grow up with me mom and sisters wearing the hijab; I never once saw it affect them in their daily lives, so I never thought it would affect mine. When the time came and I decided to wear the hijab; none of my friends expected it, everyone started asking me questions about it. Even though I didn't mind answering the questions, I just
The first year, the time to prove myself had arrived. Classes, rooms, teachers, and some students were unfamiliar. Eventually, minutes melted into hours, hours to days, and days to weeks. It didn’t take long before my schedule was routine, something of second nature. Humor and happiness were found in the form of my advisory family, where school was transformed into something more than going through the same motions of day to day activity. By the closing point of sixth grade, I was having a hard time letting go of what I’d adapted to. “What’s wrong?” my dad asked when I was getting into the car after being picked up early on the last day. I explained how distressed I was that my first year of middle school exceeded my expectations, and that it had to come to an end. Although his outlook viewed my reason for sorrow as trivial, I didn’t.