Sartell Girl Research Paper

The five-minute warning bell goes off. I rush to my first class of my junior year, eager to see my classmates, who I was going to spend the rest of the 9 months with. I find myself stumbling into a classroom plastered with decorations of Denzel Washington with a Dr. Seuss book in his hand, a t and college flags galore. My AP English 11 class suddenly seemed so appealing to me. As a beautiful, curly haired short lady stood in front of me and said “Welcome to AP English 11,” I knew that I had found a treasure so much greater than just a pretty classroom. Little did I know, that short lady was going to inspire me throughout my challenge filled second-to-last year of high school.

The morning was foggy and I could see the front of my school through my window. It was a nice sight to see. I walked into the kitchen to make myself a bowl of cereal and there she was with her head down on the table. I could tell that she arrived a couple of hours ago because the tears hadn’t dried from her cheeks yet. I got myself ready gave her a kiss on her forehead and headed off to school. I had walked into class eager to see what my teacher Mrs. Padron had in store for today. Every single day there was something new to learn and there’s something about that infinite nature of learning that really appealed to me as a child. I cherished those 7 hours I spent in class the most I could and I dreaded the mere thought of having to go home where I would have to face the

The sun rising and birds chirping, a fresh a breath air consumed my lungs. It was the start of my junior year at Coral Park Sr. High, and I was ready to enjoy my year with old friends and maybe have a girlfriend. As I pass through classmate and teachers outside the classroom; going up the main stairs in the back of the school entrance, I was interrupted by a wonderful fruity smell. As I turned to see what aroma lured me, suddenly I bumped my head and fell off the stairs. Once I realize what happen, I quickly ran up to the girl and held her hand; her hair was covering her face at that time so I didn’t pay so much attention. Ring! Ring! Ring! The bell rung and I was late. I apologize to her and told her that I would invite

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 hassle, 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, encompassed by boxed, outdated computers and rusty white walls, I felt

My first day of the second grade, I knew no one except the teacher and my younger brother. Kindergarten and first grade had been easy enough, but I was scared of the upcoming year. The only thing I knew about being the new kid was that it hadn’t panned out too great for Addie from the American Girl books. Mrs. Henson’s class was fairly quiet throughout the day, for most kids were nervous or tired. We neared the end of the day and I was ecstatic over the fact that hadn’t made a complete fool of myself. I hadn’t met anyone yet, but I thought that that would be a challenge for another day. Unfortunately, that’s not what Mrs. Henson had in mind. She sent us all out to recess with a grin plastered on her face and with me practically kicking

The bus finally arrived around seven fifteen, I walked on and found a seat near the middle, where I sat down and tried to rest until I arrived at school. I awoke to brakes squealing only to realize that I had arrived at my destination.Drudgingly I walked off the bus examining everyone, trying to figure out who I would become friends with and who I would come to despise. “Go to the gym” said some short lady who I didn’t know, but I still followed her instruction like the good little boy I thought I

I almost pass out. I go back to the real world and head to my seat. The teacher said that we were going to get a new student last week, but I didn’t think much of it. In the class, the seats are arranged in pairs of two. Jane was sitting alone. The second bell rung and the class quieted down and waited for Mrs. Flaherty to do the attendance. It turns out, the person that I was assigned to’s grandmother had passed away on the previous Friday, and today was her funeral. After the teacher finished the attendance, she looked at me and said. “Hey Holden, why don’t you sit next to Jane? She’s new, and needs someone to sit with. And since Adam’s out, you need someone to sit with.” Jane picked her head up and she looked at me with delight. I could tell she was really excited, because she slightly twitched her nose. She has been doing it since she and I were kids. I sat down next to her, and we chewed the fat for two minutes before class started. Every time we talk, she kills me. She always has an new, interesting story every time we see each other. After Mrs. Flaherty taught us a third lesson on plagiarism, we went up to get a worksheet about plagiarism that was to be completed before the end of class. I sat back down with Jane trailing. We get started and one of the school’s many jocks threw an eraser at the

Sarasate, one of the greatest Spanish violinist in the late 19th century. Sarasate was born on 10/3/1844 in Pamplona. He was not only famous for his great violin technique, it was also because of his beauty of his note that he played Many composer dedicated works for Sarasate, like Wieniawski dedicated his second violin concerto to Sarasate, Lalo's symphonie espagnole etc. When Sarasate was a child, he performed for the Queen Isabella. Then he was subsidized to study music at Paris Conservatory and studied with Delphin Alard. He won the first violin prize when he was 13 years old.

I reached the entrance of the school and the surroundings felt different. The hallways were usually crowded, filled with students trying to get to the next class. The hectic hallways were hazardous, with heavyhearted . The receptionist in the office told me where my testing room was. My proctor took me to the third floor of the school and she gave me the test. I went through the reading and math portion in a hour, although I didn’t understand the math. I was told that I was doing the Writing on Monday. When I left the building, my mind and body felt as if someone emptied out my insides, but there was no pain, just emptiness. I wasn’t sad, just

“C'mon babe, let's go before the teacher comes.” He grabs her waist and their little gang followed them to the next class. I lay there helpless as people walked on by. How can people be so cruel? What did I ever do to them? I slowly got on my knees and place my fore arm on the lockers for support. I got up with my wobbly knees then the sharp pain in my stomach caught up to me. I clutch my stomach, slowly giving up on my knees. “Em?!”

Before we went to lunch, I was so furious that I yelled at Mrs. Price, “How can you pretend like everything is okay?” The entire class just stared at me, and Mrs. Price said,”Rachel! We will eat lunch, then accompany the principal in her office!” I knew there was steam coming out of my ears by now, but I didn’t say a word. In the cafeteria, I ate my lunch silently in fear of what I might say.

Arriving at Northride High School, I finally caught a break from my mum’s rambling in the car and I attended my first class of the day. The clock winded down till the end so fast like the foam-flakes drifts on the river. As it did, I wandered to the back of the school at the end of the day and an

I went back to school that next day, in hopes that I would stay true to what I realized about myself, the night before. However, I was wrong. As soon as I walked into the classroom, the feeling of fear and humiliation wash over me like a tidal wave. I had caught sight of a group of girls, my ex-best friend included, staring at me, snickering to themselves. However, I remembered my mother’s wise words that she informed me and for a brief moment, I kept my head held high as I walked past them and into one of the lonely desks in the corner of the

It was a casual Wednesday morning when I walked into Maple Place Middle School. That is, until I reached 5th period. 5th period was my favorite period of the day because I had English, which is my favorite subject. I had it with my favorite teacher as well, Mrs.Secko. I had English two periods a day, 5th and 7th. 5th was Literature, and 7th was Language Arts. This week, we were going to be reviewing Shakespeare’s play, “A Midsummer Night’s Dream”. We would be collaborating with the other 7th grade English teacher, Mrs. Richter. Some of us would be staying in Mrs.Secko’s class while some of us would be transferred into Mrs. Richter’s for this specific lesson. I was one of the students who was chosen to be transferred into Mrs.Richter’s for that week. So, from this Wednesday to next Wednesday I would be going to Mrs.Richter’s for 5th period.

The alarm clock buzzed loudly beside my ear. Feeling like a gong that was being hit repeatedly was placed right beside my head. I sluggishly pulled myself out of my bed and dragged myself to my closet. The words, first day of school moaned ghastly in my head. Summer was uneventful and school was just going to be hell. I picked out an old, worn out flannel and a pair of jeans to wear. Not rushing at all, I struggled to put the raggedy clothes on. They smelt like horrendous lies and rumors. Exactly what this state and my school are built on.