As I walked through the wide double doors of a new school, I knew a thrilling adventure was ahead of me. The school pride shined brightly across the blue and gold colored hallways. Even the people seemed to have a certain school pride surrounding them. Many memories have come and gone in this building but the memory of my first day of high school will forever be a vivid memory in my mind. My brand name outfit and expensive backpack had me feeling as if those halls could be conquered, but with the next few steps the mirrored hallways and mazes of doors began to over whelm me. The swarm of unfamiliar faces churned my stomach. As the first bell rang warning everybody they had five minutes to get to class a sudden sense of panic and loneliness …show more content…
It wasn’t all too stressful and terrifying to be a freshman. There was still a buzz of excitement within me as well as around the school. This new chapter in my life was completely blank and begging to be written. This was a chance to recreate myself and be whoever I wanted to. The freedom to express one selves through clothing was definitely something I was dying to do. A new era was just within my reach and no matter how nervous I was, I was ready to reach out and grab it. Finally, after a long first day of high school 8th period had begun. Maybe it was my least favorite subject, math, but I definitely was glad to see it roll around. Our first assignment was to write in our journals about how our first day of school went. Three volunteers were chosen to read and surprisingly, all three of them had somehow felt a pang of loneliness or nervousness throughout the day. All of the freshmen were apprehensive. The entire day I was too self-absorbed to realize that just about every freshman was going through the same thing. Some may have come into this school with siblings or friends even, but it was still their first day in a new environment. The school day had come to an end and I was ready to face the next day with a new perspective, but first, my bed was
8th grade, 8th grade from the opening day to the signing of the yearbooks. This is the year of memories, goodbyes, and regrets. 8th grade and I’m still realizing that there are people in the world that would die to go to a school like this. A school where every body knows everyone’s name, respects everyone, and where violence and fighting are about as common as the Yankees missing the playoffs. When I’m done with my homework and go to bed, as the days of 8th grade wind down, summer will come and go, and I will find myself in one of those giant, scary places called high school.
Walking through the dark hallway, I struggled to find the light every day. Going into my classroom felt like opening the door to a pathway to hell. I cried each and every day hoping and praying I would go back to the place I loved my whole life, my school back in Ethiopia. As I walked into my old school, past memories and emotion came rushing back to me. I saw my old hiding place, I would go there to get away from all my problems. It was beside the cafeteria, where a small room was located. The walls were dusty and the floor looked like it hadn’t been cleaned for a year, but I didn’t care because that was my place where I can hide from the rest of the world. One day I heard a knock at the door, I thought who in their right mind would want to come here, but as it turned out that day was the day everything changed and I met my best friend there. My whole perspective about school changed that day. The ugly building I did not want to walk into became like my second home. I realized I was lucky to have a school to go to, and most people don’t have a chance to even go to school. Going to my classes became the best part of my day. Having my best friend beside me taught me that I can accomplish anything if I try my
Seven thirty in the morning, confused, and gazing at my first experience of college I had no idea what this semester would have in store for me. Within the second story of Vawter Hall about fifty to a hundred students are crowding the hall awaiting the arrival of their professors. I was no different; unlike these other chatty energetic individuals I was alone, and desperate to get this first day over with. At eight o’clock bells chime through the building and the students have now dwindled down to those who I will later come to know as classmates and those few who had overslept on the first day. Eight fifteen, the little crowd starts to stir; the professor has still yet to arrive. Around eight twenty a woman with short cut hair arrives in a hurried manner, clearly upset to have arrived after her students. However, to her surprise, and those of her students, the door was
I nervously opened the doors to my future, hoping for the best for myself. At first, I believed departing to class would be simple, but when the bell rang for the first time I had no idea what class room goes where and how busy the halls were going to be. Suddenly, the entire world around me scrambled to class, and on occasions bumping each other along the way; it was a widespread panic for most of the freshmen. Fortunately, I found some wonderful teachers to direct me to my rooms that I will spend the next year
My first day at school was a new adventure for me. I had to wear a school uniform: a blue dress and handmade leather sandals. Having run around all but naked for the first eight years of my life, it was very exciting.
Mommy always told me that every action has a consequence whether it's good or bad. I thought that I was the only one who didn't know that rule. But turns out my friends didn't know that rule as well. Or should I say ex-friends. I had a happy life.
However, during sophomore year everything went downhill. My grades perished and my enthusiasm for high school ceased to exist. Tottering through the year, the fog of misery got thicker and my world was enveloped in gloom. While the squeals of glee echoed in the classroom, I silently slid the sheet of paper in my notebook and pretended to be nonchalant. In spite of all my efforts of studying, I had failed to move forward.
As young kids we make decisions every day, whether they are big ones or not they still affect us. In many different situations I have made terrible decisions but I have also made very wise ones. Although the path I took for this particular story turned out perfect. After realising the downsides of taking classes that weren’t for me I ended being a year ahead in math and in all the most advanced classes for every subject.
Shy, untalkative, and desperate for friends. The years before 6th grade were complete wrecks. With limited and bad friends, they weren’t good years. Even though I was doing alright in academics, things weren’t going the best. Once the 5th grade year was over, it was time to renew myself.
Everyone says the first day of high school is the worst, but it's not, teachers are extra nice, no one hates you and you don't get in trouble. The school shows you a fairy tale, but as soon as you step into the gates on day two, all hell breaks loose. I'm standing in front of the gates deciding if I should enter the world of horror. I'm late, I have no time to stand here and contemplate about my existence. The school looks like a ghost town, except the occasional lost new kid.
Any fifth grader would be happy advancing to middle school. I was an exception to what I just stated. I recently moved from a fantastic house in New York City into a junky little house on the bay of California. Even worse, I lost all of my old friends, and was starting fresh off the bat. My first day at school was hard enough and when I tried to talk to the tall older students around me, they simply ignored 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
My first year in public high school was horrific. I was not accustomed to the public education system. I felt like a plebe that the first month of my ninth grade. My math teacher, Ms. Misbah was our sergeant, commanding us to do our work. We had rules to obey in our classroom: Never talk while the teacher is talking, do your classwork and homework.
Not knowing what the future holds can sometimes be a scary thing. Things may not always work out all the time and may not always go your way. However, sometimes the future holds blessings in disguise. When I made the transition into high school, it was not an easy task. I did not know that many people, was afraid, was not that participative, and I did not know what to look forward to.
It was one of the most exciting and nerve racking days of our lives. Although we were finally leaving high school, the feeling of being unsure didn’t go away. The whole day was full of practicing for the big moment when the entire class graduated on to a new beginning. All the girls wore shiny bright red robes and the guys were dressed in a shiny navy blue. Standing there, I had no idea what to expect. Some things I were aware of, my friends were leaving and we wouldn’t be the same friends anymore. My role was that of being so aware of the future that I was too shocked to soak in the present; being a pessimist was my main goal and everything I was sure of became true.