When I was young, everything was consistent. I was content with the way things were, and didn’t really think about the future. Everything changed that eventful afternoon when my mother told me that we were moving. I remember feeling confused, not knowing what the move entails. Moving houses meant that I had to go to a new school, something that I’ve never done before. I’ve been in the same school system my entire life, and was nervous to start a new. I’ve always associated change with a negative connotation; moving taught me that it is important to make the best of your situation, and not all change is bad. It was a rainy first day of school. I had an uneasy feeling the night prior, and didn’t get much sleep. My body felt sluggish, and I looked like a train wreck. It was early still, so I sat on the couch waiting patiently. Everything was silent; the only sound I heard was the ticking of the clock. As I sat there, I expressed unhappy feelings about the move. I thought about how I didn’t say goodbye to a lot of my close friends. Staring back at the clock, it was 8:05 am, I was late. Hastily grabbing my backpack I bolted out of the front door. The heavy rain had died down slightly, but the winds were still raging on. As I turned the corner, I saw the school bus leaving. I stopped briefly, panting with my hands on my knees. I decided to walk to school, which was forty-five minutes away. Walking towards this huge daunting building, I felt overwhelmed. Everything felt so foreign, and I had no idea what uncharted …show more content…
I learned that you have to make the most out of every situation, and live life to the fullest. This means that you can’t let adversity set you back, or delay your path to happiness. Up until moving, I thought of change as a bad thing. Going to a new placed showed me that change offers an individual the chance to reinvent themselves, and build experiences that will last a
I bolted through the clear door of a small, earth-colored high school, practically slamming the door behind me. Catching my breath, I stood in the school, completely drenched and shivering. Rain pounded the clear door behind me. I stood awkwardly on a mat in front of the doorway, trying not to get the floor wet. I gazed around the hall in front of me.
Tears streaming down my face, I kept walking ahead wherever my small, roughed up feet would take me unaware of the consequences of doing so. I felt tears roll off of my cheeks slowly, and then all at once. My shirt was wet and cold because of the salt filled tears, my nose was runny and I used my Winnie the Pooh hanky to wipe the snot away. Within seconds, my nose felt irritated despite the soft, microfiber of the handkerchief and my hands were tired. My vision became really cloudy and I could barely see where I was going. At this point, I had lost all hope and my heart felt heavy, pushing me down with every hurtful step I took. I wanted to sit down and wait for my parents to come to me themselves, so I did. I sat down next to the gate to one of the other rides and waited for what I thought was years of time. I remember getting strange looks from people, as they walked by and I kept wondering why. The ground I was sitting on was unwelcoming, rough, and littered. My pants would definitely need to take a spin in the laundry. Mom wouldn’t be too happy about this, not just the fact that my parents had forgotten me and left me to venture out into the world solitary but also the fact that my clothes were dirty and I had generally made a mess of
The sun is making its way up the horizon, but has not yet filled the sky with its cheerful rays. We exit the bus and immediately turned into statues. We stood next the flag pole staring at the school entrance. “This is going to be okay. This is going to be okay” I mumbled to myself. I wanted to enter, nonetheless, gravity glued my feet down to the cold concrete ground. My hands started sweating through my thin-knitted pink sweater and tears were about to roll off my eyes. Shortly after, I saw a shadow of a tall woman approaching us from the school’s front door. My heart beats like a drum as she carefully making her way toward us like you would when you proceed a scared puppy. She stood about four feet away from us making sure she’s not invading our comfort zone. She knelt down and shows us her school staff ID card while holding her buzzing walkie talkie on the other hand. She then ask for our names and walked us one by one to our classrooms. I remember it was so early that I had to sit in front of my class waiting for my teacher to
Before I enrolled into SAC, I was a non-fan of sports, nervous, young man, who heard about SAC from a friend in Upper School and has tons of hopes for Grade 9. Something was hold me back to go to SAC. , although that "something” terminated after I knew that everyone were Andrean Brothers and that's why I'm currently aiming to perfect the role of a well-rounded citizen. As they say, “Friends are the most ingredient in the recipe of life”. Friends, like Daniel Zhao, who told me about this school changed my whole life. Once I stepped on Andrean soil, I knew that I was part of something special. In addition, I never had "fun" in sports events because I thought I might get hurt. Yet when I joined SAC sports teams, I was afraid
Life in the middle school and high school was not easy for me. I had become an introvert, I still didn’t know how to be social, and I had very few friends. I was teased for being very quiet, and some people insinuated that I’m scared of fellow people. On the other hand life at home was difficult. My mother had become so bitter and pleased her was next to impossible. She became very harsh with my brother and me, and we were always scolded for even the smallest mistakes. Once in a while, my father would come for us and take us to the city he lived. I would look out of the windows as we drove out of town and would imagine how life in another city would feel like. I looked at the skies, and all I saw were promises of a better future. All my life I had lived in San
Walkinging into high school on my first day was like entering a new country for the first time. Unlike all the other kids around me I was super calm and a little too excited. Instead of sweaty palms I had shaking arms because I couldn't wait to meet new people and make new friends. That was always my personality so I think I had it much easier than the other kids.
One day my mom told me that I was moving schools and of course I was not happy at all. So the whole moving school thing I wasn’t happy about,but the good thing about it was I would meet new kids and make new friends and my mom told me that their was two kids that didn’t like each other so I was kinda worried about that but I would be fine. So the next day I got up I was ready to step into a new school and meet new people,so when we got there I went to take a tour and met a kid named August and another kid named Jack they were going to show me around. So they showed me around the school and I was so excited because I got invited to August’s b-day party and it was really fun but August told me their was this kid that was mean to him and Jack, he also told me that he was going to be at the park this afternoon with his mom so we
At the age of seven, my life changed forever. I was no longer living in my native country; I was now a fragment of the millions of immigrants who come to the United States in search of the American Dream. At the time, my father had recently lost his job and my mother was unemployed, which caused incredible financial stress for my family. My father decided to risk his life crossing the Rio Grande River for our family to have a better life and greater rewards.
Once we decided on a day, I began to wonder what it was going to be like to go back to a place that I had not been in 7 years. As we approached the building, memories started to flash through my mind, what it was once like to not have a care in the world. From that point on, it was just thought after thought of how things used to be. How the cafeteria seemed like the biggest room ever, the playground was a place of endless amounts of fun, and getting a “pink slip” was the worst punishment in the world. Going back to a place where I spent most of my childhood caused me to reflect on how things had changed since I left there, and what type of person I had become.
Everything in life is bound for change; we all need it in order to keep life interesting. I know now that nothing ever stays the same no matter how much I try to keep it that way. It’s an inevitable part of life, but not all change is bad. Change is a growing experience and I can honestly say that no change in my life has made me a weaker person, only stronger.
I had to go back to my country and come back to campus really feel the change I went through during the first year in college. I had to observe and interact with the first years to perceive the similarities between them and my old self, to see how I have changed and the extent to which humans are all alike. We might face the same struggles, but the ways we deal with them vary from person to person. I will try to tell my version of growing up in Lafayette.
"We're moving!", my Mom said aloud to our family of four at the dinner table. All I could do was face palm. Ever since I was introduced to the planet, moving to different areas of the city or country has been a huge part of my life. It became a yearly thing. My mom was a traveling nurse, so wherever she finds a job that's more decent in salary or atmosphere, we would end up moving to an area close to where her new job would be. I always thought of it as an exciting experience when I was younger. Almost like an adventure or journey across the country. As I got older it became more annoying and upsetting; always having to throw away any items in order to save money to travel, leaving behind old friends and soon forgetting them, or not being
...resence of my parents upstairs, despite the brain scrambling heat of the sauna, I suddenly felt homesick, and realized I yearned to be in my basement. The pitted feeling in my stomach grew stronger as I realized it is not the basement of my childhood that I miss, it is the basement of my fraternity house where Kegs littered the floors like toys and pledges were hazed like the violent was games my youth. I found another cycle came to a close, and I found myself separated from what I had once known. The basement used to be my sanctuary, the place I could dream in. Standing just outside a basement no longer mine while still profusely sweating from the sauna, a crisp late August breeze gently cooled my body. I deeply inhaled the last moments of summer knowing full well that fleeting changes that often accompany seasonal transition were no longer of any concern to me.
It was finally the first day of school; I was excited yet nervous. I hoped I would be able to make new friends. The first time I saw the schools name I thought it was the strangest name I’ve ever heard or read, therefore I found it hard to pronounce it in the beginning. The schools’ floors had painted black paw prints, which stood out on the white tiled floor. Once you walk through the doors the office is to the right. The office seemed a bit cramped, since it had so many rooms in such a small area. In the office I meet with a really nice, sweet secretary who helped me register into the school, giving me a small tour of the school, also helping me find
It was a maddening rush, that crisp fall morning, but we were finally ready to go. I was supposed to be at State College at 10:00 for the tour, and it was already eight. My parents hurriedly loaded their luggage into the van as I rushed around the house gathering last minute necessities. I dashed downstairs to my room and gathered my coat and my duffel bag, and glanced at my dresser making sure I was leaving nothing behind and all the rush seemed to disappear. I stood there as if in a trance just remembering all the stories behind the objects and clutter accumulated on it. I began to think back to all the good times I have had with my family and friends each moment represented by a different and somewhat odd object.