What Is Important In My Life In Your Life Essay

I didn’t want to have to leave my friends in Nashville and be forced to make new ones in Atlanta. I didn’t want to get used to another new house or another city. I just wanted to stay in the only place I could call home. As the day of my departure approached, I thought of running away, so I wouldn’t have to move and my dad could keep his job in Atlanta. Thankfully, I never went through with it. When the day finally arrived, I was everything but ready. My mom had picked my brother up from school early to help move boxes out of the house and into our car while the movers haled broken down beds, and other pieces of furniture into their industrial moving trucks. Once everything was packed into trucks, paper work was finished and dogs were loaded in the car, we began the long 4-hour trip to Atlanta as dusk made its way to the sky. The trip itself was a calm one, we managed to avoid any major accidents on the highway, and we were traveling around 8 o’clock so the traffic had died down. As we drove I couldn’t help but think back to the friends I left and what was to come

Having good character in life is important because, good character helps you succeed better in life, it helps you see the world different, your mistakes, your failures, it helps you stay committed to your values and goals. It's a foundation for happiness throughout your life. To have good character you must have surpassed these six traits, caring, respect, fairness, citizenship, responsibility and trustworthiness. Caring is when you put other people first you show them compassion and kindness, this is a trait a lot of people have issues with, not all people are cold hearted and heartless but there's a majority of people who are, but they don't know they are, it's just the way they were raised, maybe they had a horrible start to their life

It was the year 2008, I had just graduated from St. Michael’s School located in Los Angeles, CA. This year was quite exhilarating for me also scary because I was going to attend an all-girls high school. Los Angeles was my birth place also a place where I called home. One day, I came home to hearing my parents talking about moving to Mississippi. I remained devastated, not only we were moving to the south, I’m moving away from childhood friends. I was worried I wouldn’t see them again and I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to make new friends in Mississippi.

“We are moving to Arizona. It’s your decision whether or not you come with us.” As a seven year, old girl, this was one of the hardest things to hear from the woman I was supposed to trust most, my mom. I had to make a decision whether or not to move across the country with my mom and a stranger, or move in with my dad and stay near my family. I immediately responded with “I will be staying in Massachusetts”. Although I knew that this decision would flip my world upside down, I didn’t know how much I would personally change because of it. In that moment, I didn’t know that I wouldn’t be seeing my mom for another year. I didn’t know that our relationship would never be the same again. That one sentence changed the whole course of my life. In that split-second decision, I went from a seven-year-old little girl, blind to the reality of life, into a mature young girl forced to swallow the idea of her mother leaving her behind.

“Can we talk about moving to Minnesota?”, my father would ask. “I don’t want to, ” I’d always responded. This lasted for four years, my father always looking towards the future, my future, but never willing to press me towards the opportunities he saw. I had friends, an expansive yard where I could play, take pictures, observe the wildlife, a quaint home in a quaint neighborhood attending a quaint school in northern Mississippi, and each time the question came up, a feeling of fear welled up as I thought about how different it would all be, really the complete opposite: a rural home to a suburban apartment, a school with fewer than a thousand students for grades K-12 to one quadruple the size, a world with friends, one without. Eventually, after my eighth grade year, I let in to my father and allowed logic to clear the emotions that

As I lay in bed that night I couldn’t stop thinking about what was going to happen. I had never moved before, and just the thought of it made me feel sick. I knew moving wasn’t easy, but I wasn’t ready for all the tension and hassle that came with it. All I could think about was all the friendships I was leaving behind, the inside jokes and favorite teachers. Tears had started filling my eyes while I tried to blink

As I walked quickly to the arrivals, my suitcase making skid marks on the terminal floor, I couldn't fathom the thought of waiting another second for this adventure. For what felt like hours of waiting, my aunt had finally picked me up. It was a three and a half hour drive to Mark Twain National Forest and I watched through the window as the sky changed into a colorful painting of pinks and blues. The fresh air of the Midwest ran through my veins and I felt like I was home again.

Blinded, torn, and homesick was the word to describe the mood that filled the bus that took us to the airport. Suddenly, I felt a punch in my tummy as the bus passed people with baskets on their heads and hunts that people lived in. My mind was filled with different thoughts. My innerself debated whether things will ever be the same again. For example, I asked myself, “will I get to climb another mango tree when I reach to my destination?” “Will this be the last time I get to set my eyes on the forest that surrounded my home?” “How will I get in touch with the friends I was leaving behind especially my dearest older sister?” All these questions never crossed my mind through the whole process until I was taken to the airport with my family to to the plane that would change my whole reality.

Directions: Complete the questions below utilizing the “Full IEP” document under this activity title in Course Site.

My mind was aching as I trudged into my seventh hour class. The clock read 2:20. Forty minutes until I was finally released of my duty, at least for the night, to absorb every ounce of knowledge that had been presented to me. The room echoed with “Hola!” and “Buenos dias!” reminding me that I had entered my Introduction to Spanish Culture and Language class. We took our assigned seats as the bell rang. As I was locating my pencil from my overfilled backpack, the door opened revealing a disoriented and slightly sweaty junior boy.

Starting my first day as a freshman was not as bad as what some people lead it on to be. We had come to school two days before for Titan Quest. Titan Quest was a day where we could find all of our classes, get into our lockers, and even meet some of the teachers. I really was not nervous at all going in as a freshman. I was extremely excited for Spanish, because it was my first time to try to learn a new language at all. The only thing I was scared about was Mr. Bertram’s Geometry Honors class. I had heard that he was very strict, and his classes were almost impossible. I ended up doing fine in his class, and in all of my classes. I finished freshman year with a 4.0 GPA. As a freshman, I cheered, ran cross country, swam, and ran track.

I had made it into my school’s prestigious show choir, was neck-deep in AP study guides, and had countless, amazing friends. The news of us moving for my Dad’s new job rocked my world. I felt overwhelmed with emotion; filled with a combination of bitterness and fear. The next two months were a whirlwind: we sold my childhood home, I said goodbye to the people that I loved, and began a journey to a place that I had never been before.

I remember laying in bed watching Lion King, and suddenly my petite mother came into my room to give me the worst news of an eight years old’s life. I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that I was about to move halfway across the country. Connecticut had been my home for as long as I could remember. Every friend I made, every teacher I had, and everyone I met, I would never see them again. Suddenly, tears started rolling down my chubby cheeks while I thinking about moving to New Ulm, Minnesota.

I sat in the empty house, not seeing walls, but memories. I couldn’t imagine not coming home from school, unpacking my things, and walking straight back to the bus stop to meet my friend. We were moving to North Carolina, and I can already tell what an impact it will have on who I am, and the people around me. But as I reflect, I can see that I used relationships and creativity to overcome my fear.

Fear, anxiety, disappointment, these feelings were racing through an 11-year-old boy as he anxiously started to think about the rather frightening couple of weeks that he had ahead of him, and what this boy was going through is an experience that most people go through at some point in his life. This young boy was leaving all his friends, and is moving to a new home; and in 2011 this young boy was me. I moved to the small town of Troy in Virginia from a town called Wise in North Carolina in August 2011, and this happened less than a week before the county school system was scheduled to come back from summer vacation. When school started I was forced to take on the task of settling into a new community and school system. and I had to do this