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My personal narratives about childhood
My personal narratives about childhood
My personal narratives about childhood
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First Grade So, it was a nice and sunny day at Lakeview Elementary School. It was lunch time and all of the kids were outside playing on the playground. I was playing a game of tag with quite a few friends. Things went well for the first few minutes. Everyone was having a good time laughing and tagging everyone. Then things got heated. One friend at the time, Josh Randall, pushed my other friend, John Hill, to the ground. Boy was I fired up. I ran at him with a full head of steam and planted Josh right on the ground. After the hit I helped up my good buddy John. About a second after he was on his feet Josh came out of nowhere and planted his knee right into my testicles, and before I knew it I was on the ground hunched over in pain.
Ask yourself, how was your 8th grade year… Was it good, bad, fun, or stressful? Well most of my 8th grade year was bad but the ending actually turned out good. The start of my year was exciting, but that was just the beginning. As time went on and the work started to come in, that's when things turned south for me. I started stressing about everything I had to do, I was getting to overwhelmed. I would catch myself slipping constantly and it was worrying me because I didn't want to get held back a year. I slowly started to lose all interest in all of my work.
I consider myself to be a hard worker when I study and work, who honestly loves school. My favorite classes of 8th grade are honors geometry AB, Investigation and Science & IED. I love these classes because when I solve problems experiment it feels like it's a big puzzle that is in need to be put together and I'm a person who likes to figure things out. I believe that my interactions in these classes are to be a cooperative learner and I participate in the class or group discussions. A description of myself when I work is that I am a very fast learner, so when it comes to doing independent project or tests, I finish very fast so I have a really large amount of time to check over and fix simple mistakes. Although, when I am working with my peer
Throughout my life, I had always received recognition for being very agile and quick. My first day of Middle School consisted of the track and field coach attempting to persuade me to join the school’s athletics program. I had previously never been apart of an athletics team, and was willing to take advantage of the opportunity. Throughout my three years of middle school, I was the one consistent member of the school’s track and field team and had an overall successful personal record. Coaches from opposing school would praise me leaving me feeling very confident about myself.
He started to make fun of me, everyone on the bus laughed as if what he was doing was funny. As if he was doing the right thing. It got worse, he forced himself by me and took my stuffing and rammed it onto my lap leaving it in a horrid condition. So many dents; my stuffing went from a neat aluminum pan to a monstrosity that looked like it belonged in the trash. Tears began to well in my eyes and I had that choking feeling in my throat. I wanted to cry. All the laughter and whispers “What school does she go to?” or “This is funny.” made me feel humiliated, stupid, and alone. When the bus finally stopped at 50th and Parkside, I waited for all the cackling students to exit the bus and then followed with my dented aluminum pan of stuffing and my head held low, suppressing the
If you knew me in the sixth grade you would have loved me. I was extremely popular but not for sports or anything cool i was just extremely bad. Everyone found my behavior funny. I wanted to keep everyone laughing and keep building my reputation because wanted to be known by everyone. I hated the things that did but i never forgot to love myself.
When I was a young child I suffered from dyslexia. During my first few years of elementary school reading and writing seemed unattainable. I would write letters and numbers backwards especially s, 3, and e. I couldn’t even spell my whole name correctly and to this day I still don’t know my right hand from my left hand unless I am holding my pencil. In first grade when we broke into smaller groups for reading based on our reading level I felt so devastated and degraded to be put in the lowest level group, I recall the short books we read were half actual words and half pictures so if it said “the cat” for example it would have the word the and a tiny picture of a cat. I felt extremely envious to see so many kids my age who were light years beyond me with reading and writing. Despite my struggles I kept reading, I so desperately desired to read a book by myself without help. As I continued to read with the help of my teachers and my grandparents. I slowly continued to improve, and was able to read increasingly difficult books.
Riley tackled the jock, revealing the identity of the other kid; it was Keith. Riley mounted the jock and started wailing on his face, Riley was tall, 6,4 to be exact, which restricted the jock from pushing him off. The jock was screaming and crying, his face was a bloody mess. Riley had an evil frown on his face while unleashing the flurry punches on the guy. Not long after this, teachers started pouring into the crowd and pulling Riley off the jock, I looked around for Keith but couldn't find him no where. The kids left and sat at their tables. Riley and the jock were dragged out of the lunchroom by the teachers, since all of my friends were no where in sight, I decided to skip school. I went to the spot me and the guys always hang out at, It's an abandoned bridge in the woods, we always smoke and drink there, and talk about how much we hate ourselves and how much we hate others. When I got there I encountered Keith, he was wiping blood off his face and having a smoke, cursing under his breath. I walk up to him and make conversation. "Hey man, are you okay? It looked pretty bad out there". "Nah man, I'm fine. The fucker got in my face and started talking major trash, I didn't even say a fucking
My senior year of softball was ending; following the end of the season nominations for homecoming court were due. Out of the four seniors my team nominated me allowing with Tyler Jackson to represent softball. Crossings Christian School has a tradition of a mock homecoming court showcase were a special handshake is performed. Tyler and I spent many hours practicing our handshake. In the handshake was a mock lightsaber battle, me standing on top of him as if he was a surfboard, leap frog, and a mock slap in the face for Tyler. While we performed this in front of the entire high school, I had accidentally slapped Tyler in the face. Towards the end of that day, the actually homecoming court presentation would be showcased. The event
I had passed through almost all three years of my middle school life and had done absolutely nothing to remember my last year there. The 7th-period bell had rung and I was on my way to my p.e class just keeping to myself as I speed walked all the way across campus to the boys' locker room. After rushing to get my uniform on I once again speed walked over to my roll call spot and stood there patiently waiting for the teacher to arrive. As I was waiting I noticed that something was different in fact, because there were two large wrestling mats laid out across the floors of the gymnasium. The coaches said, “ for the next three weeks we will be doing an intro into wrestling.” I leaned over to my friend and whispered, “ is he actually serious
The time I was in the third grade, was 2008. I lived in East of Portland at a foster home where my Mom and Aunt take care of elder people. I always play around outside riding bikes, playing in the backyard with sticks, and playing video games on my PS2 or on the computer. School was very easy for me because I had been assigned easy homework by my special ED teacher. I didn’t worry much about school until my teacher had an accident at school that she was hosipled for the whole school year. That is when I start to struggle on the third grade. No more easy homework. When school comes around I started to do poorly in class. My mom would get really upset about my poor grades. She would end up taking away my PS2 and not allow me to use the computer.
I reached over and hit my friend and she got the point. Mr. Courtney phoned the principal, vice principal and school administrator. They all came down and told me to lie on the floor. By this time, I was nauseous and convulsing because of lack of oxygen and trauma. I lie there shaking as my teacher moves tables and finds jackets so that I can get my head elevated. The students leave the classroom. My teeth start chattering and I am near tears when the paramedics come in, 8 grown men with machines, clipboards, walkie talkies, and suits storm into the classroom and strap things on me. A red-lighted finger clamp to check my pulse, a blood pressure thing on my arm to check my blood, and 4 sticky clamps attached to wired to check other vitals of some sort. After 15 minutes, the pain subsides almost completely, except when I started to stand.
It was my first week of my freshman year in college. Normally, you want to survive the first week by going to school events and meeting new people. Being the first Saturday night of the school year my new friend and I decided to go to a party in another dorm on campus. Both of us didn’t know what to expect at a college party, so we dressed up and tried to look our best. As I put my black mascara on I knew that this would be a fun night. My friend Jessica knew one of the guys that would be at this gathering because he lived in the same town that she was from. Finally, we leave our dorms and head out to our first college party. We arrived at the party and started to play cards. As the night progressed, poker was getting a little boring and staying in that dorm room wasn’t too much fun either. Abruptly, one of the guys said we should go to a freshman dorm. Everyone grabbed their belongings and headed to central campus. As we walked to central campus many of the boys were whispering about how they were going to cause a ruckus. No one was a resident of this hall, so we had to ask someone who was outside to let us in.
15 years have passed since I was in first grade and I remember this teacher and if I recall correctly her name was Miss. Caroline, and she used to go on and on about me learning how to read with my father. You know you would she would be pleased or at least somewhat content that a first grader reads the way I used to, but on the contrary I guess she wasn’t. To be completely honest I was thinking of this the other day and today 15 years exactly on the same day of my first grade graduation I run into her (Miss. Caroline).
It was one day in the fourth grade I started my day off with the normal events, waking up, getting ready, the ride to school, then sit and class and learn for seven hours. But this day was unfortunately cut short.
I wasn’t at school the next day and I guess that’s when things somehow got out of hand. Then the next day we played tag again, but a little bit more physical contact, nothing out of hand. Later that day while we were in P.E. we had a thing called a “Fun Run” where we just walked/ran around the field. Near the end of the field where the teachers weren’t really watching. There was a group of several of us there with two kids called Damien. They were Damien C. and V., they were the real issues. So me and my friend Luis were walking and they were behind us. Then another kid named Freddie came running up and shoved Damien C, not sure whether by accident or not. Then Damien V. thought it would be funny to piggy back ride Damien C. and then continue to tackle him. After a talk with a teacher an unrelated video was brought in and was deemed the cause of the