Personal Note On Value Yourself

The first day of school: a day where I would begin an eleven-year journey full of academics

One beautiful Monday morning, everything was calm (for now). I woke up very fresh, excited, and ready to go to school! It was a nice and sunny day, the best way to start a week. I woke up at 6:00 a.m and had a lot of time to get ready for the school day. After that I wore my clothes, did my hair, and brushed My teeth. Next, I had breakfast that included cereal, milk, and apple juice. My sister and I went outside and saw that my dad was waiting for us to get in the car, so that he can take us to school.

As we headed to eighth period, I headed to the office for student aide. I walked in and put all of the giant, brown boxes, white envelopes, and boring, educational magazines in the teacher’s mailboxes. When I finished, I walked back to my personal desk.

As I walked outside of the YMCA I saw kids having fun building forts and having snowball fights. Mom, Dad, and I walked to “Trusty” my Moms Oldsmobile. When we got into the car my Dad asked, “How do you think you did?” “I think I did great,” I replied as I sat there replaying my game as if it were a movie. The car roared to life and we headed home. I sipped on my purple water bottle and gazed out the window. My city looked as if someone had thrown a white fluffy blanket on it. I remember wondering if I was going to have school on Monday.

On the first day of school I sat in the main office anxiously waiting for a tour of my new high school. Mazes of hallways and crowds of students pass me as I try to memorize the layout of the building. Finished,

School wasn’t always the easiest thing, and I did get in trouble when I was younger for speaking to seat partners, or reading during lessons, but my thirst to learn new exciting things remained and was never completely satiated. When I was 9, I was called into the guidance counselor's office to take a test. After my results came back, there was a a meeting between my teacher, my parents, myself, a teacher I had met a few times during mathletes practice, and a few other school officials. I didn’t really understand what was going on, just that the table we were sat at was the biggest my young eyes had ever seen, and that I was to be starting some sort of Program for Academically Talented

The days were getting longer as they kept on driving through the cold rain and the humid sunlight. Julie’s son, Michael was on the verge of becoming 12 years old, and since their family wasn’t in town, they had to drive all day and night to San Francisco, California. Not to mention the drive all the way back. They had a large family, but, Julie was the only one to move and start her own life in a new environment. No one in her family even thought twice about coming to visit Michael, instead they had to travel in a dreary car all day long(Forever Grateful).

“Don’t be late for school,” my mom said. “I know, I know,” I replied as I looked over my school supplies list to make sure I had everything. Today was my first day of middle school. I was so nervous! Would middle school be hard? Would there be a lot of homework? What would 6th grade be like? I had so many questions that were left unanswered. I looked at the time. It was 8:00. My bus would be coming at 8:12 so I had to go. Putting on my shoes, I said goodbye to my mom and left for the bus stop. I saw other students leaving their houses to get to the bus stop. I wondered whether any of them would be in my grade. Since I moved into my new house, I hadn’t met any of my neighbors. Perhaps one of them would be my friend by the end of the day. When the bus came, I quickly got on. I looked at the students getting onto the

It had been a miserable day; bitter cold, the streets and sidewalks were capped in ice and snow, grey clouds hung low in the sky. There were barely ten students in class, but the teachers were still adamant about doing work. The school day seemed to be never ending, but eventually I was free. When I got home, I was both physically and

After getting the horrible 5 A.M morning breath brushed away, I went on to eat. In all my previous years of school, id wake up to a warm breakfast already done and waiting at the table. But this year there was a change. It was devastating. I walk out of my bathroom to find and empty, dark, lonely kitchen. My mother was nowhere to be found. I guess she wasn’t dealing with this year of school either. It was not even an hour after my first day of waking up before school and I felt like it was already ruined. I grabbed a pop tart and hurried out the house.

So starting first grade when I was six years old, it was a cake walk. A+’s in every class. I’d always finish my homework in the morning before I went to school. School was so natural to me. Starting second grade, it was just as easy. Again, I was going through school like it was nothing. On and on through fifth grade, school was easy and I didn't need to put any effort into it. I would wake up every morning, do my homework then walk to school. I got comfortable putting no effort into school but

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.

It is was a cold and windy morning when we all woke up, we had great plans for the day, but I went back to sleep. My mom screeched, “Luuuuuuuis!” so loud that the whole ranch could hear my name. My body jerked and my head spun as I stood like a soldier on its first day in basic training, as my foot touched the cold floor my body was covered in goosebumps; I am half asleep; it is five in the morning; I heard my aunt and mom scrambling the pans in the kitchen against each other my mom planned to make fajita sandwiches. The house was filled with an acidic, lemony, and, rich aroma that woke up my cousin. I heard a truck pass by thinking it was our uncle and I got ready like a torpedo. I stepped outside, but to my surprise it was just the gas truck. Finally, after 20 minutes we see my uncle’s truck lights through the thick morning fog; we grabbed our lunches, and our hats, and shuffled into the truck. We were headed toward Piedras de Lumbres, a little village where we were going hike to see Saint Antonio del Varal. The trip to the village was smooth. When we got there, Daniel, our uncle, was waiting for us; he brought a dog and she was a ball of energy jumping, trying to touch the sky, and running like the wind. Daniel asked if we wanted to go the easy or the hard way; me and my cousin screamed, “the hard way!” so we walked about 10 minutes in the road until we saw a big hill. We all stopped and stood in silence ……. we just stared at each other the hill was, rocky,

    The day of school, that was as slow as a turtle, had just ended. I am on my way home on the rambunctious bus. The bus ride where all the rowdy children are letting out all their energy that was bottled up all day. Singing along with the radio, talking, more like yelling, to their friends, or just jumping from seat to seat.I am sitting on the gray leathery seat alone, which are hard as rocks, feeling my butt gradually going numb. Thinking about how this bus ride seems like an eternity. I notice that the bus is nearing the long gravel road it drops me off at, I stand up from my seat and swing my backpack over my shoulder. I start walking down the aisle; as I walk, seeing all the little legs move from the aisle to their seat so I can make my way to the front of the bus. I hear the squeaky doors open and I tell my bus driver thanks. I am outside and the fresh autumn air fills my lungs.

So, this was pretty much a first when it came to the very first day of school at Wheaton Woods Elementary. First class, total nightmare, barely any of of the other five to six year olds such as I, didn’t know what to do or what to expect when it came to such a raggedy old building with even older staff members, we were throwing shottily made rockets out of Lego at each other, talk fights about who gets what, drawings made from pens and cheap crayons, all of the sort. The first assignment we were told to