Rough Draft Narrative

Throughout my childhood I could never say I had the most exciting life, even now I can still say that about my daily routine. Although my family put effort into nurturing me into a well-rounded member of society since youth, I never felt any change or progress personally; it was more as if I simply adapted to whatever expectations my elders had of me. I know this feeling did not apply to me only, in fact, I was once in a classroom full of fifty-two people who accommodated to whatever came their way.

I think I speak for many people when I say high school is a critical point in one’s life. Coming into high school, things seemed to be tightly-knitted between my peers and I; those of us who had just

As I sit on the floor of my bedroom, I prepare myself for a life changing week. My dark black suitcase is right next to me. I have my packing list in one hand and a red pen in the other. I cross out the items that I already have. I make sure that I have everything I need for a week at summer camp. Every summer since 5th grade, I have gone to Skyview Ranch in Millersburg, Ohio. It is a week of laughing until my stomach hurts and powerful words that change my mind forever.

The lake glistened before me as my mom and I pulled into Blue Lake Fine Arts Camp just outside Twin Lakes Michigan. I had been accepted into the International Youth Symphony Orchestra program where after spending a week at the camp the entire orchestra would be heading off on a six week European Tour to share our musical talents and American culture with another part of the world. I knew traveling to a different continent would give me further insight as to who I was a person, but did not imagine the people I would meet would impact me as much as they did.

I like to think there are four levels of procrastination. The first is false security, the “I still have plenty of time, I can finish this later.” The second is laziness, the thoughts like,“I should probably get this started. Nah.” Next comes denial and excuses such as, “I would start this, but I’m doing something else right now.” and, “I’m just taking a little break.” Then finally the crisis stage, the stage during which you stay up all night long in order to finish the homework assignment you had all day to do. Because of this, the hardest part of my daily routine was the time when I knew I needed to start my homework, but I truly wanted to keep watching shows on Netflix. This wouldn't be as difficult if it weren't

Personal growth is inevitable for a teenager going through high school. As much as my freshman year self didn’t want to admit it, I knew walking into the doors freshman year that my life, and myself, were going to be different when I left Lowell High School. Throughout my high school career I watched myself change, becoming more confident in myself and more curious about the world around me, but unable to pinpoint why that change was happening. I still had the same friends, did the same sports, and had the same hobbies as I had all throughout high school. After some deep reflection, I realized that I didn’t just wake up one day, suddenly more grown up and mature. It happened slowly throughout my junior year. And why it happened? Junior year

As the eldest of three kids, I am who I am because of my younger sister and brother. Coming from an immigrant family, my parents worked full time at their restaurant. They had to care for the customers, the finances, kitchen supplies, and food; money was their priority because that money was for me and my siblings. From the first day I started kindergarten, I was extremely independent. Everyday after I got off the school bus at approximately 2:45 PM, I walk home and eat a bowl of cereal. I studied completed my homework, and on the occasional times my dad was home, I asked him to correct my answers. All that changed two years later when my younger sister started her kindergarten year.

Growing up I lived with my mother, father, and siblings. Around the age 15 my mother and father separated. I have always been the person who set goals for myself. I had support from my family and friends with everything that i did. I had a pretty close relationship with my siblings growing up even though we were all very different. I played basketball from 3rd grade up until 10th grade and after high school, decided to go away to college.

High school is quite the barrel of laughs, if I do say so myself. I don’t have many friends. Never really have. I ride the bus alone, I work on projects alone, I eat lunch alone, and I go home alone. My mom says I should be with the other kids more, problem is I don’t really like them. Most I dislike from the start and the others well, let’s just say I’m not popular. So I don’t mind being alone. Alone is safe and comfortable. Alone never changes and if I’m alone who could I possibly hurt. Only

I am the youngest of seven kids, who all moved out while I was still very young. Therefore, I never had anyone there to help me when I was growing up. I grew up in one bed room apartment with a mother who worked night and day shifts, and my brother who was 6 years older than me trying his best to take care of a little girl. My other siblings were in the picture, but they stayed with my grandmother. My oldest brother went missing before I could even talk. Therefore, my life started off a little rocky.

I am the oldest of four children and raised by a single mother. I had to grow up at an early age and help my mom take care of my siblings. My mother would work two to three jobs at a time to help support us, which usually meant that we were to be at the baby sitters house. Sometimes my mom would not pick us up because she had gotten off late and had to work early the next morning so it was just easier for us to stay at the baby sitters. I was okay with helping my mother out with my siblings but it was getting harder the older I got. Once I reached high school I had to go straight home so that I could be there when my siblings got home. Having to go home right away I could not join any clubs or hang out with my friends. Once I was a senior

However many adolescence’ find it hard to transition to adulthood as they no longer have the burdens of high school pressures and friends. This also creates problems for people who only have social networks that they have from school meaning when school is over they need to adapt to a new environment and become independent. This can be emotional and daunting for many youth.

In my first year of high school, I overcame my anxiety of being independent.  All my life since the elementary school, there had always been someone telling me exactly what I should be doing, where I should be going, what needs to be done, and how to get things done. This was especially apparent in elementary and middle school. Students walk together in an assembly, go to lunch as a class, play together during recess, have interactive conversations, and pack up together at the end of the day. Eventually, high school started and everything changed. I was expected to become independent. This concept was new to me and made me anxious. Sooner or later, I had to overcome the fear of being alone.

Moving on into my adolescent years wasn’t any easier. I had no idea who I was. In fact, I changed my wardrobe and what I was into doing quite often throughout middle school. One month I’d wear a dress in hopes to be a “girly girl” and the next, I’d be dressed in all shirts with black schools pretending I knew how to skateboard. In addition to that, my friend group changed dramatically within a very short period of time. I was very confused and new to all of the things this new group of peers enjoyed doing. At one point, I was so desperate to find out who I was and get the sense of belonging that

I coasted through the first 14 years of my life successfully with little effort. I had no more than a couple good friends, had great grades, and was content. Either everything was going great as I remember or the way I felt was due to ignorance. Then, high school came, and I had almost no one to talk to; nobody made any effort to befriend the chubby new kid. Each day was miserable. Each afternoon was the same. My parents were oblivious to this, working long before I was awake and drinking and fighting long after I