Eighth Grade Essay

First off, Welcome to Eighth Grade! It’s going to be a great year for you , team 8-1 is the best pod there is. All the classes are so much fun but the top three advice I give to you, is do your homework! I know everyone says this to you in middle school but especially in eighth grade because your grades for this year go onto your high school teacher and you wouldn’t want them thinking that you are too lazy to do a simple task like homework on a daily basis. Next always participate in class it’s so

It was the last semester of eighth-grade year when Trinity Christian School had officially decided where my classmates and I should go for the end of the year mission trip. The whole eighth-grade class had been anticipating the announcement all year, and the location was finally named. It was New York, the city that never sleeps. While I was on the trip, I was able to see much of what the city had to offer. However, because it was an eighth-grade trip there were many limitations on the things we

The textbook that teachers in grades sixth, seventh, eighth and ninth grade at Wanye-Finger Lakes BOCES are utilizing Expert 21: Reading, Writing and Thinking for the Twenty-first Century (2010) textbook for their Middle School English Language Arts Curriculum. This textbook was published by Scholastic and is utilized as the curriculum that teachers are required to teach and modify as needed. The textbook is divided into eight workshops that present students with real-world themes. There are a total

Since I was in the seventh grade, pressure has always been a part of everything I have done. This has stemmed from a variety of different sources, mostly standards that I set for myself. Without these standards, I would never have become the person I am today. The lifestyle I live brings pressure along with it. But, I enjoy everything that comes with the way I live my life. Unlike others, I was put under a tremendous amount of pressure at a young age in the classroom, and on the court. Pressure

you do what they want you to do so I had to fill choir as one of my elective choices. Despite the fact, my mom didn’t know I filled in choir as my fourth choice, which rarely gets chosen as your elective. I turned in my elective sheet to my sixth-grade teacher the next day. Secretly I was hoping I didn’t get choir or the other elective I didn’t want which I can’t remember right

It was the first day of my eighth grade year. I remember it vividly. I wore a blue button up shirt with a pair of jeans that I cut to wear as shorts and cuffed. I had blonde hair that fell halfway down my back and bangs that fell just above my glasses. I was excited and terrified at the same time. It was a new year; a new start. The last school year wasn’t so great. My mom was constantly going in and out of the hospital which meant I was pulled out of school a few times. I had to miss a state test

Voss, was teaching math, which was Charlie's best subject, so she had no problem with the homework that her teacher gave her. She sat, watching the clock, just waiting for it to strike one thirty, when the class would have a break. However, seventh grade wasn't as hard as she had been expecting it to be, as her brother, Danny, had told her. She had just started at a new school, a charter school at that, and Charlie's family made fun of her during the summer, laughing about the uniforms and the preppy

by A+ individuals has made me feel less than others. Elementary school is the time that I felt the most intelligent, being that there were no advanced classes to make me feel degraded. It all changed in fourth grade when my friends were being accepted into Mrs. Husk’s advanced fourth grade class. I remember continuously waiting for the letter that I’ve been accepted. Unfortunately for me, it never came. Receiving the letter was hopeless for me. After a while, I learned not to wait anymore. I accepted

want. It’s not uncommon to be jealous of a friend, and before eighth grade, I was often jealous of others. I was jealous that my friends had money when I didn’t, that my male friends actually looked masculine while I looked like a girl, and that they were more experienced romantically than I was. The experience that led me to end this jealousy, like many events in my life, began with a failed romantic endeavour. At the end of seventh grade, I admitted my love to a friend I’d fallen for, a girl called

face. That smile didn 't last for long. I soon felt the tears begin to fall again as I thought back to the summer before ninth grade. That summer Edwin and I got very close, we talked everyday, all day. It was not an hour that went by that we weren 't talking. When the summer ended and ninth grade began we all drifted apart from seeing that they were still in eighth grade and I didn 't have the transportation to see them. By the time they started