The Second First Day Of School

1.Contact with members of the lower castes always reminded him painfully of this physical inadequacy

On the first day of school I was in a class full of students. Oh, I hated my first day of classes very much because I could not handle the thought of having to introduce myself to everyone especially with the problem I had. I sat there nervously as I observed the others confidently and happily introducing them self to the audience. I just had the urge to slip under my chair and just hide there until I could escape my turn. Unfortunately, I could not avoid my turn and ended up introducing myself. "HiiiimynameeisJaskiran." As my face filled with embarrassment and humiliation, I thought of all the possible thoughts that approached the minds of the other students in response to me attempting to introduce myself. All too common I could imagine students saying, "Did she happen to forget her name?", "Can she talk a little slower?", or "What is wrong with her?". Times like this, made me wonder about my lack of speech skills in front of a group of people. Why do I either speak so fast-- where what I say sounds like one word-- or when I speak I am not able to clearly pronounce the syllables of a word? As I began to research, I realized this difficulty, complicated style of speaking is called stuttering. Why do people stutter? A mystery that has yet to be unraveled.

Girls perch on the tables like exotic birds gossiping and giggling, a football fly’s above their heads between two jocks in varsity jackets parading their toned muscles. Groups of high schoolers sit around the room laughing. Weekend has arrived and the hallways of the school were filled with tons of kids ready to go home. Every ear filled with the sound of multiple conversations going off at once, lockers opening and closing, music blasting without. I had managed to push past the constant stream of children and to the school field. The grass was damp and covered in a thin layer of frost. As I walked my footprints were embedded, leaving a piece of me in the cold ground. I saw my friends faraway chattering and fooling around. I was stuck in the wrong crowd; they are nothing like me but somehow I am still friends with them. I slowly made my way up to my “so called friends”.

The first day at my new school was strange. I didn’t know anyone. I went up the creaky staircase to my classroom. My teacher entered the room. The woman’s name was Mrs.son . She was a strange teacher. She almost looked possessed. Her eyes were huge and dark as blood. Her voice was low and mysterious. She gave us a unexplainable item.

But my mom and aunt assured me that everything will be fine and that kids here are very kind and friendly. Though I wanted to run back to my mom and go home with her, I decided against it and followed the counselor to Ms. Algers’ fourth grade classroom. As soon as I walked in, Ms. Algers’ introduced me to the whole class, and my soon-to-be classmates greeted me with a nod, smile, or “hello’s”. Though everyone was warm, there was this one girl who went above and beyond to make me feel welcomed, her name was Emma. She had blonde hair with glistening blue eyes, loved to play soccer, participated in student body activities, and wore abundant pastel colored shirts. She had prepared a welcome card and a pencil for me on my first day of school. She even introduced me to her friends, showed me around the classroom, sat with me during lunch, and played with me during recess. Her kindness made me feel like I belonged there and helped me get over my fears in a short amount of

It was on that day, sitting on the schoolbus frightened and nervous, that she would be experiencing something new. The reserved 10 year-old Tasnim who just moved from Bangladesh to the United States, was riding on the schoolbus as a 5th grader. It was already halfway through the school year, and curious students on the bus had already been asking her questions to get to know her. Her first interaction with a student had been a girl on the bus asking,“What’s your name?” as well as other closed questions. The bus eventually stopped at the school, which was larger than she thought and had seemed like a labyrinth on the outside.

I head to the door and put my hand on the doorknob when I hear very loud footsteps coming toward me. I quickly move out of the way as the door swings open, sending the doorknob through the wall. Then a girl with a completely red face storms out of the room, crying. I look in the room and see a teacher, she’s wearing a yellow sweater and a flower covered dress, she’s sighing as she stands up,

"Ms. Bauer?" I looked up to see a middle aged man standing in front of me. "I'm Mr. Anderson, the principal, and welcome to Mira Costa High School." he said with a big smile. He looked so genuinely welcoming and I liked it. I started to calm down a bit. "Hi, I'm a bit nervous, if you couldn't tell." I laughed a little and he joined in. "Well everyone is on their first day. But everyone here is pretty nice from what I've seen." He motioned me to walk with him and I stood up and followed. Right as we walked out of the office, Mr. Anderson started greeting students he walked by, wishing them a Happy Monday, most of them smiled, but some just looked

The beginning of each school year has its ups and downs, but for me, the downs outweigh the ups. Everything about school, except for seeing my friends, is frustrating and sometimes that can be frustrating. From learning my school schedule to having to sit through seven consecutive classes each day for around ten months, nothing about school comes easy, especially at the beginning of the school year. Getting back to the morning routine, getting back to the school routine, and getting to know my new teachers are all things that do not make the first days of school any easier.

I arrived in the school gym and noticed the abundance of people and noise. Then I noticed my friends. Elliot was on the other side of the gym floor and, Maggie and Nick close to where I was standing. We talked about how we would would like our teachers to be. I made my way to my first class. Math with Mrs. Aldridge, up the stairs, to the left and a few doors down. Mrs. Aldridge was a typical homeroom teacher, very nice and proactive. Her room was not as full of color than I was used to but it was typical.

The hallways an endless channel, the doorway a snowcapped mountain, indomitable and tough. Prim and proper with a shiny buckle, the heels of my mother’s penny loafers clack loudly on the scuffed floors. The classroom is empty, there 5 desks in a semi-circle at the front of the room with a podium in the middle. Mrs. Mellinger smiles at me, asks me if I’m ready to go. I tell her that I sure hope so. She laughs, and I take my seat in the front of the room. Shortly after, the other kids filter in, some sit with me in the front, the rest take their normal seats.

7:30 AM. Breakfasts. Immaculate uniform on. 8AM. Out the door. I didn’t know what to expect. Anxious. It felt like just yesterday when I was latching onto my mother’s nipples and now … I’m just going to be thrown into a class with 30 or so odd people that I do not even know. After combating the congested main road, we finally entered the parking lot. A swarm of butterflies began to flutter in my stomach. Nervousness. We got out of the car. My mum, older brother and sister and I and proceeded to walk to my classroom. I held firmly onto my mother’s hands. Everything was different. Everything was gigantic. The people, the buildings and even my uniform. I felt like a minute organism being swallowed up by my own uniform. Mum always had a strong opinion on buying a school uniform two sizes up because she always said “It will last longer”. After 10 minutes of circling around the primary school twice we finally found my classroom at last, 1B. Mrs Hoffman’s Class. She had a rainfall of wrinkles on her face and gave off Miss Trunchball vibes from Matilda. She was wearing an old fashioned blouse accompanied by bell bottom jeans, which suggested that she was from the sixties. She gave a hearty smile and landed her vein snaking hands over my back shaking away a bit of my nervous feelings. 8:30 AM. The bell had rang and it was time for my mother to depart. My heart began to pound ba-dum

On the first day of school, when the first rays of sunlight hits window of Olivia’s bedroom. Olivia opened her eyes and slowly got up to prepare for her first school day, starting her 8th grade. Olivia did er normal routine like she did everyday. Olivia got up, brushed her ivory white teeth, took a warm shower and headed down to eat her rather filling breakfast. When Olivia headed down to eat her breakfast, the sight that greeted her was like any other day, her mom cleaning up the dirty dishes and her dad sitting at the table drinking his coffee. Once was completely down the stairs her mother greeted her with a warm and caring smile. “Olivia, are you ready for your first day of school?” Olivia’s mother rather excitingly. “Well, it really depends on how I feel today.” Olivia said with a straight face and monotone voice while sitting herself down at her seat at the dinner table. Immediately, Olivia’s mother knew something was up. Olivia was usually a very cheerful and happy person, the truth was there was something rather off about Olivia. The reason why was, Olivia dreaded going to her school, Great Neck South Middle School. Why? Her school wasn’t the most bullyproof school in the U. S., Whenever she walks into the school Olivia will often get stared at and bullied because of her cherry blossom-pink hair and unusual blue eye colour. Olivia wished for it to all go away and disappear, her friends didn’t help her either, like everyone else they will tease Olivia about her

Lou’s first day of senior year starts at 7:55 a.m. sharp. She sets her alarm for 6:30 a.m. to give her plenty of time to get ready in the morning and pick out what she is going to wear. “LOU, GET UP, YOU HAVE TO BE TO SCHOOL IN TWENTY MINUTES!” are the words that finally jolt Lou out of bed at 7:35 a.m., nearly an hour later than planned. “There’s not enough time to pick my out my outfit! It looks like I might as well just be late” is the only thing to come to her as she rolls back over for thirty more minutes of sleep. Have you ever felt so stressed in high school when you’re running late and cannot for the life of you find an outfit to impress your crush that day? Many high schooler students today are obsessed with their appearance. High school can be a vicious place for those who don’t fit the status quo.

BEEP! BEEP! My alarm went off. I knew what today was. It was none other than the first day of school the day I have been dreading since summer started. but today was not any first day this one was as scary as a beetle because It was the first day of high school. i thought high school was the scariest thing ever. because of all the movies and the television shows that I watched. they portrayed it as ten percent learning and ninety percent bullying. the only people in the shows and movies that got bullied were the nerds and I was a nerd.