Matthew Hays
Professor Belknap
English 111, 8:00
08/14/2014
Outsider It 's the end of 2002 and my high school is finally out for winter break, but I don 't want to go home. My parents ' divorce has become a long drawn out affair. Mom wants the house, Dad doesn 't want to stay on any of the credit cards. They try to play nice in front of us kids but I 'm 14 years old, I know what 's going on. Everyday we watch quietly as our parents slink around the house like strange cats, scowling and grimacing when one thinks the other might be looking. The silence between them muffles everything like a heavy blanket. Even the cars driving by outside seem to pass more quietly, as though afraid to draw attention to themselves. Every minute drags by, it
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“Cheer up!” my father tells me as he bustles around the apartment, “You 're going to love California.” Two weeks later I find myself standing in a strange yard, outside a strange building that my father tells me is home. The sky is an offensive clear blue and it 's so humid that I 'm almost surprised the car isn 't rusting in half before my eyes. The next day brings the news that I have hoped for months would never come, I start at my new high school on Tuesday. The very idea of school has become something hateful, something to make my stomach turn when I get careless and let my thoughts wander. Two thousand new faces, no friends for a thousand miles in any direction and everyone else has had a month to get comfortable already? I feel as though my time would be better spent running with scissors or playing in the street. Anything would be better than this feeling of impending doom. My desperate pleas for an alternative have failed, nothing but uncompromising cruelty is good enough for my father. No home school, no online school, no GED and now it 's my first day. On the ride to school my stomach seems to have come to the same conclusion my head did a month ago. Every step makes me feel as though my insides are trying to escape my body. I arrive late to my first class having been lost in the maze of buildings that dot the campus. The biology room is foreign to me in every way. The desks are absent and in their place are what look like
I was starting my first day at a new school. My palms were sweaty, my heart was thumping, and I had butterflies in my stomach. I took a deep breath and walked towards the grey doors. I thought about what the new school would be like; how the teachers were and how the students were. I missed my friends from my old school. I walked through those big grey doors to a whole new place.
My eighth grade year of Middle school. I had many challenges, with making friends and subjects. But one challenge was mathematics.I knew my eighth grade year was most important when it came transferring into my high school years, yet I didn’t do anything to raise my grade in mathematics at that time. It wasn’t until two I had a very low grade in mathematics on my report card at that I realized I needed to do something about my low grade. So after that report in math, I really was determined to really bring that F up to at least a B or A. So I remember I started to go to after school tutoring to get help with my math subject. They placed me with a teacher named Ms.Alice. And she really helped me with my subject.
My memories are blurry. They are fragments of disjointed moments, without a linear narrative. I remember reading. It was in Mrs. Davidson first grade class. My reading proficiency skills were very poor, the English language still thick and unnatural on my tongue. While some of the other students took a Gifted class, I had to take a remedial course—English Learners (EL)— just so that I could hold onto the edge. I remember reading. I had a hard copy of The Very Hungry Caterpillar in my little hands, reciting only the first page of the book from memory. The classroom was dark; the stream of sunlight filtering through the windows served as our only illumination. The rest of the words on the book looked like a mess of jumbled letters. I couldn’t make out anything other than the words “the” and “and.” I remember enthusiastically pointing out my “fluency” to my teacher, seemingly applauding my menial abilities: “The catpater at droo!” (The caterpillar ate through). In the first-grade, my free time was spread sporadically between watching The Little Mermaid, catching ugly black crickets and pretending that I was Sailor Moon, guardian of the galaxy. In the first grade, I was not at all concerned with words, literacy and books. In the first grade, I did not know the power that words hold. I did not know that books would change my life.
In the school year of 2015-2016, I am a high school student now. I should be excited for this upcoming school. However, I felt nervous about this school year. I lay in my bed until my mom called me many times. After eating my wonderful breakfast, my mom and younger sister asked to get ready for school. I didn’t want to change my pajama. My dad called me from the downstair, “Iris, hurry up. It is time to school now.” I was unhappy to get out of my room. Even though I have been in the Memorial High School many times before this school year, I was afraid of being in my first day of school.
“We keep moving forward, opening new doors, and doing new things, because we’re curious and curiosity keeps leading us down new paths,” (Walt Disney). The overview of my Junior year in high school was, I believe, the best school year so far both in academic and my personal achievements. As a person I had a major growth, I become more active in school in which was a huge step for me, and academically, well I’ve never seen so many A’s since Freshmen year, well that is if I examine only second semester but overall I felt that my grades were better than last year. This year I became a person who is more open-minded, one who sees the outside world, my mind has opened a door which helped me find the inner me that was stuck in for the past 2 years of high school like if I were a bud that has finally opened. I shockley impressed at myself, willing to accept any new challenges this year which truly helped me become a better person in education and personally.
Red lights, traffic lines, students walking or dragging, I could hardly tell. Today marks the day of my first day of high school without my best friend who may not connect to me blood-relatively but a family in my heart. I thought to myself, what if I can’t find any of my friends? What if I can’t find any of my classes? What if everything doesn’t turn out the way I want it to? Anxiety and panic roll in my body as soon as my mom stopped the car. I hesitated to open the car door, making little movements to even try to get out the car. I waved goodbye and shut the door closed so lightly that I think my mom had to properly shut it again. As I make my way to the front entrance with the gated black fence that shines so dimly, I looked up randomly at the sky, noticing that the clouds appeared very cloudy and immediately assumed that the rain will start sprinkling
Sadness, desperation, and the thought of failure plagued my brain as I went into my second day of Sophomore year in high school. I had grown to dislike school a lot as it felt like all the fun I used to have was slowing diminishing into nothing. As I walked to my next class, I looked down to make sure I had the right room number. I did, it was time for English which I was not looking forward to. But, to my surprise, this English class would change everything
My senior year of high school was really lonely. I had gotten into a drama filled fight with my closest friends at the end of junior year, so my senior year I was voted off the friendship island and outcasted. Sure, I probably could have attempted to fix things, but I was stubborn and insisted on isolation rather than forgiveness. It was a really hard year for me emotionally between losing some great friends and the idea of college in the back of my mind. Who was I going to be? Where was I going to go? Would I ever make anymore friends? It seemed many of my classmates were busy making memories with their friends as our high school days were dwindling down, memories they would remember forever and there I sat hidden in the background, admiring from afar. It broke my heart, and to be honest with you... it just really sucked. I tried my best to make the most of it. I spent a lot of time that year with my nose in a book. It was my own unique way of making memories that year with no one else except myself and some truly memorable characters.
My alarm shrieks piercingly through the air, and my eyelids fly open. I carelessly toss my covers aside, and begin my morning routine. Five minutes before my bus arrives I begin to rush out of the house. “Don’t forget I’m picking you up at school early today so we can go to Miami,” my mom reminds me on my way out. “Sure, okay,” I toss back at her and close the door. Just like any other school day, I traveled the day with laughs, semi focusing in classes, and other teenage fanatics. Like in most high schools, when inside the school walls there is this false sense of security that overcomes each student. Most believe that nothing can hurt them, and that nothing will happen. Failing to realize that no one is invincible and things can change at the blink of an eye. As the day proceeds, I approach my least favorite class, Biology. There was never a day that I didn’t complain about how much I hated that class and how I could not wait to leave. But today was different; It wasn’t as dreadful because this would be the period that my mom would pick me up. Fifteen minutes later, I was back to my old ways, whispering “I cannot wait to get out of here!” to my neighbor who felt the same way I did. Finally, I heard over the loud speaker: “Roshonda Bissainthe to the office” and a smile creeped across my
My last class of the day was Algebra one, which was “ok” but only because I was relatively good at math. And even though I'm pretty good at math I was still having problems keeping up with the material and just wanted to quit. Some days waking up seemed almost impossible. Getting out of bed was so difficult. Going to school each morning was a struggle. And winters were even more unbearable. I hate going to school when it's as hot as an oven outside, so why do I have to go when it's sub zero temperatures outside. I'm finally getting out the door, The wind so cool sending chills throughout my body. Each breath sent an intense burning sensation through my nostrils and down my throat . I felt so anxious getting to school, I did not want to be late. And to make matters worse, some classroom didn't have heat. It made leaving my nice warm bed that much harder to
You're walking in the halls, it's your first day at a new school, everyone is staring at you and you wonder what they are thinking? How they feel about you? Will you fit in? You remember coming from a school where you were always bullied because if what you wore, but what are you supposed to do about the fact that your parents don't earn as much as other families, so your parents can't afford to buy you the new Jordans. You hope and pray that this school is much different and that you may actually have friends this year. Half way through the day you hear whispers and laughter behind you, when you turn around you see a group of girls making fun of you. You turn back around and walk away with your head down, after all you should be used
At the very beginning of my freshman year at Harris County High School, I looked at my schedule and I realized I was in Journalism. I was absolutely ecstatic; Jesus himself couldn’t make me any happier. The fact that I actually made it in made me all tingly and excited! At first I thought that Yearbook would be like every high school movie ever; all of the smart, unrecognized, but the necessary people got passes onto the football field to snap a few PERFECT pictures. Honestly, I thought every picture I took would be perfect. I never knew how to edit a picture beyond a snapchat filter, and I didn’t think I’d have to learn either. I thought every teacher would let you interview whomever you wanted, whenever you wanted. I never realized how hard choosing people to interview would be either. My biggest mistake was believing it was an easy free period.
When I walked that day into the school, I felt hatred from the surroundings. Teachers, students, and counselors looked at me like I’m the enemy. It wasn’t literally that, but that’s what I sensed. My experience in the Elementary school and in the middle school was daunting. I wasn’t a student that wanted to learn, educate, and enhance. School was a nightmare for me. I hated to go there nor even do anything that is related to it; It didn’t mean anything to me. I lacked improvement, and self-assurance, because I used my life for joyfulness and dissipate. The absence of good grades made my relations with everyone defective and I didn’t feel jubilant with it, until that day came.
If I had the opportunity to go back in time, I would redo every year of High School. Three of the biggest problems that I faced were: not studying on time, not doing the homework on time, and always cheating off of my best friend 's paper. I would always be afraid to ask the teacher questions because I didn’t want to seem dumb, so instead I would cheat or go on Google and copy down the answers word for word. What I failed to realize was that I was capable of thinking my own thoughts and that everyone has their own unique way of thinking.
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.