The Importance Of Starting At A Young Age

Looking back, I was lucky to have the teachers I had. Most of them would try to help me, but didn’t know how to. There was something about the way the school was designed that it just didn’t work for me. The summer after my 8th-grade year was when I realized I needed to try a different form of education.

To start it off, I moved math classes to Mr. Dicker’s, which was one of the most stressful events of my life. Personally, I thought moving up would be much easier than it actually was. I found myself in a constant struggle and had to push myself to my limits. I constantly had to go in for extra help because I got down on myself. All of the hard work, long nights, and stress I put in to math eventually paid of. I ended up getting all As on my report card throughout seventh grade, which I could barely get my mind around. During seventh grade, I participated in volleyball, basketball, and soccer. I played soccer for six years when I was little, but I hadn’t touched a ball since. I knew from the beginning that soccer would be hard for me since I am not foot-eye coordinated in any way. Normally, sports come pretty naturally to me, but soccer was different. I compared myself to other people, but I decided that that was enough. I began to practice soccer almost everyday, and soon enough, I began getting compliments about how much I had improved. Getting good grades and trying a new sport were both amazing experiences, but my personal favorite time from seventh grade was the Colorado trip. The Colorado was not only a break from all the stressful academics, but it was a time where I could bond with new and old friends. Before the trip, there was a group of people who I had never really come in contact with, but during the trip, I made some incredible bonds with these people. Like I said, seventh grade was a time of change, but it was a change that set me up for success in eighth

As a student, I have always struggled in school and never paid much attention in my classes. I never had very much motivation to go to school. When I was at school, I never listened to what the teachers were teaching. I never really paid attention and did my work. Instead I spent my time in class doodling on my papers. Throughout all of my schooling, I cannot remember a single year where I have missed less than twenty days of school due to me

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.

The first days of school became the saddest days of my life. Not only was I missing my parents, but also I was intimidated. I was used to getting the best grades at my former school; here in New York, I was something different, somehow less. I neither liked nor understood what was happening to me. Because of my inability to speak fluently, and without inventing words, a few weeks after trying to fit in at school I decided to give up. I limited my social life to talk only to Spanish speakers, I did well in every subject except for English, and I lost all my interest in learning proper

It seemed the harder I tried, the worse grades I received. My parents punished me for not achieving high marks by grounding me on the weekends to keep studying more and more. All this punishment did not help because I began hating the pressure of school because I did try hard and had a desire to get good grades however the more effort that I put in, the harder school seemed to get. Additionally, each year every student was obligated to perform in a talent show for the whole student body and community of parents. I remember feeling like these shows were put on so the parents could laugh, make fun of and be entertained at the expense of the unfortunate children. I remember feeling sorry for some students that just didn’t have the talent they were trying to portrait. Being a student in the 1970’s, you did what you were told to do, without question, and if you did do something that was out of line, your parents were called to pick you up, and you were punished at home. I really did not like grammar school much. I was in the lower average of my class, I did not have a great talent, and I was made fun of for being different than others students---I have red hair. I really dreaded going to school as a child due to the pressures that the school, teachers and my parents put on me.

No matter what I tried, I did not seem to fit in. I was constantly dealing with many bullies. It didn’t help that I’m shy, that my brother was ‘different’, or that I was good at school; These kids did not seem interested in school at all, and were only interested in being popular. I hated going to public school, so when I was in 7th grade I transferred to private school. For 7th and 8th grade I went to a ‘prep school’. I t was very difficult. We would have several hours of homework each day, and I had to write a lot of essays. For high school, I went to a Catholic school, the same as my father.

Growing up, both of my parents were always working, that left me at home without adult supervision. It was great doing whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted, which was mostly hanging out and playing with my friends. School was always an after thought and when it was time for me to turn in assignments or take a test I performed miserably, but I was quick in coming up with excuses. Worst part was that I believed them. This trend followed me through high school and into college. My excuses finally caught up with me when I got dismissed from Long Beach City College for having poor grades.

I remember going into my freshman year of high school nervous but excited because I thought I’d learn so many new things. Next thing you know I found myself dreading school. Was I being lazy? Was it my lack of motivation? I still can’t grasp why exactly I lost that excitement or that yearning to go to school. I was raised to have the idea that school was a place to learn not socialize. But at the age of 14, what teenagers don’t want to socialize and that’s what got a hold of me. I spent too much time worrying about other things that didn’t involve my education.

For nine years of my life I hated school. It just didn’t make any sense to me why every child was required to go to school for eight hours and a hundred and eighty days a year. Many of the things I’ve been taught I feel will not have any importance in my life later on after high school, but it doesn’t matter, I still had to learn it whether I liked it or not.

Growing up as a child, I found school to be devastatingly boring and thus, had trouble focusing in the classroom. I became enamored by TV and video games, but sending me to school was a punishment. My parents and teachers told me that I would regret not trying in school, yet I would not listen. Each year I faced the dreadful uncertainty of whether or not I would make it to the next grade. Each year I ignored the loving advice of my teachers to try harder.

When I was a kid, school for me was waking up early in the morning. I also have to study a lot in school, then after school I have to do homework. I remember my first day at school. My mom and dad, both were so happy and prepared but I was so nervous and cheerless. I didn’t like to wake up early in the morning for school , but as time flew by I started loving school which made me wake up with energy instead of tiredness. I began to enjoy the school as I made new friends and I got to know how it is like when you meet people out of your neighborhood. With my friends I had lunch together and study together. I started to understand what the purpose of the education system. Based on what I understood I think the purpose of education is really aimed at helping students get to the point where they can learn to be on their own. In this journey of education I had a lot of positive and few negative experiences,but the negative experiences also helped me growing. Positive experiences are my teachers helping me improve, and I improved more when I moved to the United States.

In junior High School, things started to turn around for me. Although I was still placed in lower level classes, I developed a love for learning. In the years to come from Junior High to High School, I had a strong urge to make up for lost time. One class I started to excel in was the one I used to have the most trouble with, Mathematics. It seemed as though the once boring and complex equations now seemed meaningful and simple. As I progressed into 8th grade, I was able to advance to normal classes. I felt that the hard work I put in was finally paying of. At this point, I felt that I could handle a higher level. At the end of 8th grade, I took the necessary procedures and tests to try and get into honor - level courses in 9th grade. After taking a summer course of Algebra 1 and several tests I was able to succeed and take the classes. The experience was great. I felt that I was finally going the right direction

Throughout my entire childhood and now of being in school, was like having someone holding a gun to my head forcing me to go. The gun was my mother and her bullets were her words, so every day she pulling the trigger for me to get to school. There was no option of me staying in to watching television, staying in bed, or even staying in my night gown till the next school day. There was none of that, even if I tried to miss the bus she leash her rapid bullets for the whole drive there. Every day I had an excuse not to wake up at 530 in the morning to get ready for school, it was horrible. Now imagine, being woken up already showered, dress, eaten breakfast and yet you still don’t have the energy, mind set, or soul to go to school. Let me give

I never struggled in school, it always came easy to me and at times too easy.  Outside of school, reading and writing was never worthy of my time as it cut into the more important play time. Reading and writing was an effortless task and therefore my interest was little to none when it came to partaking in the activities outside of the classroom because of my household centered around schooling. I figured my mother could do enough studying for the both of us. I would go to school and work on school work. I’d come home to my mother and her focused on her school work. I’d come home and do my own school work. I became tired of this overwhelming impact that school work had on my life. Why would I waste my time on something I already know how to do? Why would I read a book that will teach me a lesson I already know?