Personal Narrative: Three Different Middle Schools

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

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).

To know how lead, first you got to learn how to follow. Knowing that quote help me understand my mentor Mr. Smith. Mr. Smith was my coach at first when I started Middle School at Paul Public Charter School. Mr. Smith had taught me to not put sports over education and to respect others.

For two years I begrudgingly walked into Fuller Middle School, sometimes staying home because I had a ‘headache,’ my home, as well as other places I was always resentful, pissed off, quick tempered, and just downright rude. I was a typical middle schooler going through family changes. I wore band tees and ripped skinny jeans to every event my mother would let me--including to school, I constantly violated dress coded until I found my way around authority and the policy, listened to heavy metal, colored my eyeliner on until I looked like a panda, and generally tried to make myself appear unapproachable. That’s when my mom began dating the man who I would eventually call my first lifeline.

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

I started middle school at Bethany Middle school, I had my two older cousins going to school with me. One is the same grade I am and the other is two years older. It was nice having them but we all hung out with different crowds and sometimes we would not agree on the same things so we would not always get along. My first day of middle school was not as bad as i thought it would have been due to the fact that the Bethany middle school was not big at all. My 6th grade year was tough for me when it came to school work, i was used to the work from Central Elementary school and the Bethany Schools were much more strict and left a lot of homework so it was a big change for me. I remember my English class was the hardest along with science but I

When I hear the word “survival”, I think of someone who has made it through the impossible or conquered a near death experience; but that isn't all that it means. According to the the Merriam Webster dictionary, “A survivor is a person who copes well with difficulties in their life.” Moving from elementary school to middle school taught me many new characteristics such as how to be more independent, responsible, and more open to changes.

I walked into my Barents room , I was so depressed because that day was my first day went to middle school in America. I spoke to my mother about what was going on that day.

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

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.

If I were to build a new middle school in San Marcos, CA where I live, I would power and heat the building by clean energy such as solar and wind power. I prefer to use solar and wind energy because it is cleaner source of energy and is less costly than the current way of powering buildings which is by electricity.

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.

Transitioning to middle school was a difficult experience that taught me a skill that I will use throughout life. The jump from fifth grade to sixth grade is often challenging due to the change in teachers, learning environment, and pressure. In fifth grade I enjoyed a daily schedule of sports and social time with a small amount of time dedicated to homework. The fifth grade attempted to prepare me for middle school by giving me an increased amount of homework and more challenging material, however, faculty and administration still acknowledged that I was in elementary school and am not at an age where I should be given a large amount of homework. When I become a sixth grade student everything changed.

When I was growing up, I never expected to be made fun of. I didn’t know that being overweight was going to be a problem. I lacked the courage to defend myself from bullies who often teased me. They laughed and even made jokes about me because I was out of shape and quiet. Being different was a tough experience for me in middle school and in elementary school since I didn’t know how to defend myself and even less, ask for help. Kids wouldn’t come up to me and ask me to play with them.Instead, I spent most of the time alone.