Personal Narrative: Upper-Middle School

Living in a low-income family, my life was constantly being turned upside down. Whether it was living without hot water, electricity, or even a home at times I’ve had to work through it all in pursuit of my dreams. Coming home to a situation in complete disarray was a standard for my household, and when something wasn’t burning down in a fire, then life just didn’t seem real. Being pushed around has meant going the “extra mile” to succeed in life. This has meant taking a four-mile bike ride to the Santa Clara library to finish typing up a research paper for my English class or even boiling pots of water to have a lukewarm bath. While these skills are not necessarily the most difficult, they have molded me into being a person who won’t allow setbacks to stop me from achieving my

I grew tired of being homely, of the arrows, of being punctured with words that were, supposedly, meant to leave me unharmed. The condensed circle of friends and family I developed, constantly insisted that I am no less than an extraordinary human being. They continued the pestering, yet I stood unyielding convinced I would never be better than the dirt that's walked on. It must have been their persistence that led to the realization: beautiful things grow within the dirt, relying on its nutrients to grow strong and great. I was more valuable as a human than a target, yet instead, a fighter. In order to win against the enemies, to no longer be a victim, I needed to first fight the battle within my own mind before progressing to tackle outer defenses. Confidence has been the inflexible trait to fix, rather than the higher resilient features such as activeness or originality. In time, the laborious work and constant battles paid off. I had learned to have my own confidence, trust myself, and notice an inner beauty, despite the fact it had taken an autoimmune disease, friends, and self

Becoming of older age, I began to understand that it’s perfectly fine to be imperfect. The extraordinary person I believed I would never become started off by committing faults and mistakes. Despite the fact that I was treated differently it pushed me toward understanding that I am enough. No matter what obstacles or battles I come across I’ve convinced myself to ignore the negativity surrounding me and converting it to positivity.

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.

It’s purely sad to experience but it made me understand how privileged the upper class was, even sometimes the middle class in comparison to the privileges of the lower class. In line with (Ciabattari, 2017), the 20th century has caused economic uncertainty with high education costs that not only effect the parents negatively, but the children are more likely to become dependent on their parents, all the way into their 20’s, In addition, race and class hierarchies play a major role in the access of resources for the young. This is certainly true in comparison to my transition into adulthood. My childhood friends (mostly black and poor) are still living with their parents; some in their thirties today! I even felt oppressed and left behind because the rich kids outside of town had the resources to get ahead of me, and the police, or outside members of the community profiled or judged me harshly, well into my adult

As a fourteen-year-old boy standing 6’2”, I was not used to feeling so small, but when I arrived for my first official day at campus, all that I could think of was how lesser I was to everyone else because of my socioeconomic status. I let something as minute as money control how I thought of myself, something that I knew then and know now, should never happen. In September, I was enraged that I could not stop the fact that I was a financial aid student disturb me. I started to mute the self-disparaging thoughts in my head, and that helped for awhile. However, I knew that I had to immerse myself in the culture Lawrenceville had to offer to appreciate who I am. In other words, I had to face my fear of being

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.

From the moment I walked across the graduation stage to the last moment in DeMolay, life had leaded me on a culmination of experiences. I had a profound revelation that because of all the poor circumstances I had learned to overcome. I was stronger and more prepared for the next era as an adult, and a leader who had empathy for those who didn’t have certain privileges. School was simply not easy, I didn’t not have positive role model that I could look to when conflicted with moral decisions. Kids of course looked at how I dressed and the length of my hair to judge my character. I paid no mind as I saw my future in the lyrics of each uplifting song I would play in the morning. Expression and empowerment were the culmination of a resilience and

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.

My path was never set for me growing up. I was not raised by parents who would dress me up in college gear, parents who would research the top schools, or had a school fund account set aside for me; due to this I lived and attended one of the most economically challenged city and school district in the U.S. Although, I was not the most privileged person growing up my ethic background and community influenced me both positively and negatively in ways of culture, language, and my view of the world. The face of my community was weak, old, and crumbled, but it was rich in culture.

My whole life I have been in the lower class, I don’t have as many privileges. That’s why I learned to use what people take for granted to my advantage. When I was five years old I was homeless with my father. I improved my reading skills by reading newspaper articles and bus stop signs. We went place to place looking for a home while it wasn’t present.

However, after my father’s death, the class status remained intact. My father was smart with his finances, real-estate, and military insurances. Although we were fortunate and blessed and were aware of our blessings. There were emotional challenges, changes in the family structure, and my mother was suddenly thrust into the position of head-of-household. There were also many instances where I was taunted and teased by others for their assumptions that we thought we were better than them.

When most people think of life, they don’t necessarily try nor want to remember the hardships and obstacles it took to get here. Where they are now. Among many things, I’ve seem to count negative marks the most in my life. Although i lived a good, middle class life, it isn’t all it’s made to be.