One of my earliest memories of writing was when I was in fifth grade. It’s a very nice memory because I was one of the best writers in my fifth grade class. I enjoyed writing very much because it let me express myself and my mind could roam freely.…
We started walking towards the gate and started going towards the side of the school. There we saw all of our friends, and we all started having conversations and getting pumped up.…
Life was good and merry. I had friends, family, and my laughter. Growing up and born in my native country gave me a feeling like I was wanted there, like I belong there. Laughing and playing were the things I do the most. I got a nickname,”bà điên”(crazy lady), from my random outburst of laugher. I was totally unaware of something that was soon to come and change my life. I was still in grade school playing with my friends when my dad came with the principle and told me that I am going to America.…
I dreaded the alarm that woke me up at 6:30 in the morning. It was as loud as a screaming toddler that could be heard for miles. I groggily got out of bed and got ready for my first day of school. It was a weird feeling not putting on a uniform like I had been for the past nine years, but I also enjoyed that freedom. The nervousness became more and more intense as I could closer and closer to campus. When we arrived, I got out of the car, and watched my dad drive off to go take my younger sister to school. There was no going back now; I had no other choice than to walk through those doors. I felt like my throat was in my stomach. I noticed some familiar faces, and I walked towards them. While I was approaching my friends, a senior, facing toward me, walked passed. He must have been at least six feet tall, which was incredibly intimidating for me at just over five feet. I was not used to the fact that I’d potentially have classes with these giants. Additionally, the array of new teachers, and having to learn all of their teaching styles and things they did or did not tolerate was hard in…
My first day of college went a little like this. Coming in as a freshman I was scared and nervous. I arrived at a small building consisting of two floors and about 20 classrooms. I wasn’t really worried about getting lost, but how can I get lost in a small building anyways. After rooming the hallways for a few minutes I head to class. My class was an average of 22 students. I walk in to take a seat; it was so quite I was able to hear a pin drop. It took me by surprise when some one finally spoke. He began talking about the class they had…
As I step off the yellow school bus, I looked up at the big, brown brick elementary school. Kids were everywhere. I was excited. The night before, I could hardly sleep. I kept getting up every five minute, afraid I might oversleep. I felt like the big man on campus, but in reality, I was the little man on campus. I was about six years old and so tiny among the older children. I was taken to the cafeteria, where all the kids were to find their teachers and walk to their homerooms as a class. I found my teacher. She was a middle-aged Caucasian woman with blonde hair. Her name was Ms. Bishop. She was nice. The bell rung and we walked in a single file line to our classroom for the next couple months.…
It was time to get back in class so we lined up outside of our classrooms waiting for the teacher to arrive and take us inside. The…
Today was the day. Packed to the point of bursting open with new notebooks, folders, pens, pencils, and textbooks, he readied me for school. Instead of bouncing around as rambunctious young boys do, he trudged slowly in a peculiar meter of half-steps toward the doorway. He was living a new life in a new school that was filled with people who might as well have been aliens to him.…
My heart raced from the ridiculous amount of coffee I had consumed that morning. I tentatively stepped into the dark, empty classroom and took a seat in the second row. As an English major, I resented the fact that I was required to take US History 201. I disliked history, and I heard rumors that my professor, Dr. Grimm, was a tough grader. The only contingent that caused me to feel slightly happy was the fact that I would be in the same class as Hannah Colasurdo, my longtime best friend. I had known Hannah since I was ten years old, and she had been there for me though my best and worst moments. Little did I know that this history class would cause me to fall to one of the lowest points of my entire life.…
My hands shook harder than an earthquake as I walked down the fourth grade wing to the office. My fourth grade teacher, Mrs. Bilbrey, never believed a word I said. As I walked into the counselor's office, my knees felt like jelly.…
I walked up the stairs and directly to my locker. This is the first year I am able to use a combination locker to hold all my supplies. It didn’t take long for me to get the hang of lockers and changing between two teachers, instead of one.…
When second semester rolled around, it wasn’t so easy. I only had four real classes, but a few of them were tough. My schedule went along the lines of Foods, Government, College Comp H, Lunch, ISICS, Warrior Warehouse, Gym, and Algebra 2. This year I was lucky enough to have Mrs. Deardorff, Mr. Burm, Mrs. Myers, Mr. Hokinson and Mr. Myhre. They have been one amazing group of teachers. I learned so much from each and every one of them and I could not thank them enough.…
The bell rings and all of us headed into class with the one of best teacher ever. Her name was Mrs. Garcia and she was not…
After lunch, it was math class, which was torture. As I set my books down on the chair next to me to save Juliet a seat, I noticed some friends from freshman year and called over to them. “Hey, guys!”…
We walked in and sat down by the cone assigned to our class and waited for the other classes to come in. Between the bright lights, kids talking, the small space given to each class and the smell of floor cleaner, I felt nauseous. I could feel my breakfast coming up out of my stomach.…