Sator Sanchez Elementary School: The Event That Changed My Life

When I was younger I failed myself and my family when I got held back a grade because I was not showing any progress in any of my subjects. I lost all of my friends, they began to talk bad about me because they thought I was not as Intelligent as they were. This effected me emotionally, I begged my parents not to hold me back a grade and to let me stay with my friends but my parents being tough said no, because school isn't about being close with friends, its about learning and making something of yourself. I learned a very important lesson the day I got held back a grade and that is to never give up and to strive to be the best in anything I do. I also learned that friends come and go, and that I can make more friends. I started studying every

I remember the beginning of sixth grade, just like it was yesterday. Walking through the doors I had my backpack and lunchbox in hand excited to pass all classes with no problem.Unfortanately that thought was just a thought. Over the course of the year I failed tremendously by receiving my very first unsatisfactory grade. Before I have never received anything lower than a “B”, so to see a “C” it was heartbreaking for me. I know most students would love to see a “C” on their report card, satisfied with the feeling of not failing. Every report card I kept getting that same feeling of disappointment of seeing that “C” on my report card.

The fourth grade was a very traumatic year for me. My only sister went to middle school, my mom who always was at home across the street from school got a job, and I didn’t know one person in my class. For the first time in my life I was on my own and I was frightened even by the idea of it. During that year my grades dropped and I wasn’t social with my classmates. I started to fail in my favorite class, math. The work became pointless to me and I started to neglect my work. One day, after I failed another one of those math tests, my teacher asked to talk to me after class. Due to the already annoying grade I had received, my teacher punished me with a detention. Confusion and frustration flooded my body and I just wanted to give up. But,

Throughout a majority of my academic career, I was a straight-A student. My grades were an extremely important thing to me; I reasoned that my grades were representative of my success and if I didn’t earn an A, then I was a failure. I cried and called myself a failure when I received my very first B. Catching my first glimpse of the B for the first time, my heart sank. ‘All of my hard work - for nothing!’, I thought to myself. I didn’t believe that I could have done better. After the second B, I considered that perhaps grades weren’t as important as I had originally thought. As time went on from my first B to my fourth, my heart sank less and the tears dried up. I began to notice the things I was doing wrong and used that information to turn

While sitting in Mrs. Weller’s 5th grade science classroom, my class was informed of a test next week. Even though I should have started to study, I thought that I could do well without reviewing my notes. Since I chose not to study, I did not do well on the test. No one could have known that one grade would change my school life forever. Since Mrs. Weller was one of the most caring teachers in the school, she wanted all of her students to succeed. Even though I did not show it, I did really care about my grades. Because I have always achieved quality grades in my school career so far, I was always happy to take a test to prove to the teacher that I understood the material we were learning. Based on my past success, I was determined not to study.

I ended up failing but I wasn’t to upset since the whole school district ended up failing it was like going to school again. I went to summer school and passed the writing test. Sophomore and junior year were the hardest for me with the writing test. Sophomore year I did not pass my writing and reading, I ended up going to summer school again, and I still did not pass. After not passing the second time my junior year started. The school offered tutoring afterschool and I would have pullouts during my class. Pullouts is where you would be pulled out of a non-essential class for tutoring during school. After I spent all that time studying and practicing I still didn’t pass. I just didn’t understand what was wrong with me, I felt dumb and worthless. Each time I take a test I would pray to god, to help me through it a give me strength. But I felt as though he wasn’t listening to me, I was so ashamed of myself. I know I was at my worst when I was thinking about dropping out of high school. I felt like I failed everyone my mother, father and most of all myself. I had one last time to pass the test before my senior year. At this point, I was over the test I had no courage left in me to fail again But, I had no

I failed AP English. I had missed the second quarter of the school year, almost completely, due to… technical difficulties. I got discharged from the hospital mid-February, and for the remainder of junior year, the majority of my waking thoughts revolved around passing 11th grade. With motivational speeches coming at me from my parents, friends, and teachers, I began to believe I had a chance of passing the year. I did my best, which apparently was not enough. My teacher had picked up on my tremendous amount of effort, and on the last day of school, bumped my grade up to a low D — just enough to pass. I was not exactly about to put my grade on display or anything, but I passed! Technically. This is not one of the underdog-who-succeeded stories. The real success for me was (look away, it’s cliché) realizing my best was enough. I sound disgusting.

It was the day when there was this big test and I didn’t study at all, it was for science and I had a feeling that I was going to get a bad grade. As I was looking at each of the questions I got more and more anxious because I wasn’t a fully sure if any of the questions I was answering were correct. That’s when I lost my hope or motivation. I tried my best answering each of the questions with the most detail I could. Then I crossed my fingers and tried to keep my hopes up. The test was on the computer so I checked it twice and turned it into google classroom. After two long days of waiting, the grades for the test were in. I checked it and as a result of not losing my hope, I got an A-. I knew that if I had hoped I will get through any challenge better than having no

Tears stung in my eyes as I gazed down at the dreaded product of neglect, already feeling a cold weight tug at my heart. Looking at my practice log, I determined that within the twenty-four hours remaining before it was due, I needed to make up the eight hours of practicing I had been lazily putting off. After informing my mom of this impossible feat, she told me that I would not be staying up past midnight to practicing as a meager attempt to salvage my grade. The next day I turned in my log with a hint of discouragement as I awaited my grade. I didn’t fail the class, but I still had to live with the knowledge that I could have done better. I tried to justify what happened by saying I wasn’t used to Jr. High with its additional seven classes,

In my 7th-grade history class, I was having trouble with my assignments. At the start of the year, it was all easy for me, but over time, it became difficult. The reason was that I couldn’t understand what’s happening when reading the passage in the textbook. Therefore, I felt that I couldn’t overcome understanding what the tests are saying. I would have just stared at the passages like a hawk during my tests. Eventually, I stopped doing my homework and studying for tests as a result of thinking it was useless to try. At the end of that semester, my grade was a D since I was slacking off. I was truly shocked when I saw my grade because I believed I was going to fail everything.

At the end of first grade my parents decided to move. They wanted to move because they wanted to change schools for me, but are old house that I had lived at would only let us go too slv, and my parents didn’t want me to go to slv. So they decided to move. All though we had only moved across town, it felt like a world of difference. My old school was a small, desolate private school in Santa Cruz. We only had one class per grade. My first 1st grade class had only 17 kids. Now I was going to the big, scary elementary school with over 100 kids and more than 30 kids in my class.

When I was in middle school, I truly didn’t care for school. I just thought it was a mandatory part of the everyday adolescent child. I came to school each day dreading the fact that I have to sit for hours and listen to lectures that I thought to myself that I don’t need in the future. It was the beginning of the second semester in eighth grade, I was called in by my advisor. She told me that if I don’t improve my grades, I would have to repeat a grade, and I would have to wait two years until I enter high school. This unnerving fact stopped me in my tracks, and I remember the cold feeling that suddenly surged through my body. There was a possibility that I could fail and repeat a grade. And so I thought to myself, is this really how I want to continue my life? Is

The next day of school, I felt a bit better. I realized the parents about the situation is better than hiding it from them. When I got my test scores back, I didn't flunk it, instead I got a B. I thought,”Having a B is better than having an F but, I should show my work next time, I'm still not satisfied. I will for sure work harder.” That day, I learned my lesson, my worry wasn't my parents, it was me for being scared and not working hard which I will improve as I go through 7th

My second semester of 11th grade was very difficult. The previous semester was spent learning to manage my time and becoming acquainted with a new lifestyle I was attempting to adopt. A lifestyle full of responsible choices and a well managed schedule. After a few weeks of struggling I finally started to get the hang of it. My grades were looking great until I decided that I wanted to take a 10 hour a week college class at Los Angeles City College. My life began to fall apart as soon as the class started. Every Monday and Wednesday I was forced to rush home on the metro then make my way to class to let physics 101 lessons consume me. It was fantastic at the time. I loved every minute of the experience. I met an abundance of people that helped

Years before this, in third grade, my fellow classmates and I took the Iowa test. We thought it was just another state standard our school was required to fulfill. What we didn’t know, however, was that it would determine our future curriculum and ultimately, the path that we would take in high school. On the Iowa test, I scored advanced in Science and Math, but not Reading. I scored into accelerated, not advanced, on the Reading test. At the time, I thought that accelerated would be enough. Though as when time went on, I found that it wouldn’t be. This score was what prevented me from attending the camp. It was very disheartening for me to watch all of my friends go to that camp and have so