It was a warm April day and all of the students were let out of school for the day. I went home to finish packing with the help of my parents making sure that I had everything and I wasn 't forgetting. I was excited for a week now to go on the trip to Washington D.C. with the whole 8th grade class for a week.
“Are you nervous?” my mom asked me as I was zipping up the suitcase.
“No, I 'm more excited than anything but its going to be different not being home every night!” I answered.
“Well please be careful and please stay with the rest of the group so you don 't get lost! And I hope you have a fun time there.”
“I will and thanks.”
I put all of my bag and my suitcase into the car and then came in to eat dinner. After eating and watching tv for a bit we headed to the school where we are supposed to meet for the buses. When we got there it was 8 o’clock and starting to get dark and cold outside. We all met in the gym with our parents and waited for a half an hour before the teachers started letting the students loading there bags and suitcases onto the bus. After saying our goodbyes to our parents we got on the bus and started to head to D.C. The bus ride there it was pretty boring since everyone was tired from the school day so most of us past out including me. After a few hours of sleeping, the bus stopped at a bus station so that everyone could use the restroom and once I got off the bus I had a loss of balance since my eyes didn 't want to open from sleeping so I couldn 't see where I was going most of the time. But I managed to use the restroom and get back to my seat alright. Once I sat down I fell right
…show more content…
I noticed that I wasn 't the only one awake so I started talking to my friends that sat next to me in the next lane. I asked them if they knew if we were close and they told me that we are in D.C. and in about 15 minutes we will be getting off the bus to start our tour of
I remember the first time I came to America; I was 10 years old. Everything was exciting! From getting into an airplane, to viewing magnificent, huge buildings from a bird’s eye view in the plane. It was truly memorable. After staying few days at my mother’s house, my father and I wanted to see what Dallas looks like. But because my mother was working the whole day, it wasn’t convenient for her to show us the area except only on Sundays. Finally, we went out to the nearby mall with my mother. My father and I were astonished after looking at a variety of stores. But after looking at different stores, we were finally tired and hungry, so we went into McDonald’s. Not being familiar with fast food restaurants, we were curious to try American
“Who lives, who dies, who tells your story?” a quote from Lin Manuel Miranda’s new musical, Hamilton. This quote will continue to be a testament of my work ethic throughout my lifetime, as I work towards my future. The most important thing we can do on this planet is to leave a legacy, something that is worth remembering, whether it may be countless awards, stunning revelations, impactful inventions, or a caring and righteous family to carry on your name.
“Yes” she said sarcastically. We greeted all of the other girls and started to jog around the gym to warm-up. I was in one of those moods where I didn’t want to talk because it was too early in the morning.
Every person has an American Dream they want to pursue, achieve and live. Many people write down goals for themselves in order to get to their dream. Those never ending goals can range from academic to personal. As of today, I am living my dream. My American Dream is to become a nurse, travel to many places, have a family, and get more involved with God.
It was back when I was 14 years old in the 8th grade, when I got an opportunity to take a trip to Washington D.C. to learn, explore, and meet new people in a different state. There was a long way to go, for me to be able to be chosen to go on the trip. This trip was competitive because only 10 students would get to go. I had to do some paperwork to let the assistant principal at my middle school know I’d be participating in competing with other kids at school to go to Washington D.C. I wrote an essay explaining who I was, how would this trip benefit my future, and why did I want to go to Washington D.C. I’d also be in charge of raising $500 on my own and also in the essay I had to explain how would I raise $500 on my own. I was settle to be
I’ve been on the bus for about 5 hours and I’m getting sleepy but it was hard to sleep since it was my first time I’ve rode a bus
I once heard someone say, “I can hear your Washingtonian accent.” “Me?” I questioned him in disbelief. “Yeah,” he replied. Then with a little more cheek than I should of, I responded with, “no ya don’t!” and walked away. I remember thinking to myself he was the one that was dropping letters out of words when he spoke. Later on, I realized why I had responded the way I did. I had a perception about accents and dialects that I had subconsciously acquired as I grew up.
It was a beautiful sunny spring morning, and we were on are way to Springfield for our 4th grade field trip. The bus was very splendid with huge windows and T.V.s, and the 4th grade teachers had put on movies for us during our ride. I was so excited for our day,we were going to Abe Lincoln's house, The Lincoln museum, where Abe Lincoln was buried, and a log cabin town where Abe Lincoln lived when he was little.
When I had first walked into Meeting Street as school was being dismissed, I couldn’t help but notice the smiles of the children, as they were each being escorted by their own private nurse. Every child I passed waved hello to the best of their ability even though some may not have had full motor skills in their hands. After walking in I had been instantly greeted upon my arrival with great hospitality from the employees. I was fortunate enough to interview Ashley DeSimone, the Marketing Manager of Special Events, at Meeting Street, who from the minute I had shaken her hand treated me like part of their “family”. One of the first things I had asked Ashley was “What makes you different than other schools in the area that provide the same services
It started off like any other day I woke up turned the T.V on watched SpongeBob while eating my breakfast, showered, then threw on my typical 5th grade outfit which always consisted of a sports tee and shorts. Then after getting dressed I boarded my bus and sat in the back of the bus like the cool kid I was. I participated in normal 5th grade chatter talking about sports, telling corny yo mama jokes like “Yo mama so fat she sat on skittles and turned into a rainbow”. After we arrived at my elementary school Switlik I walked to my classroom with my best friend Johnny as the grades below us watched us walk admiring our one strap backpack technique.
It was about two years ago when I arrived in United States of America, and I still remember the day when I left my native country, Honduras. As I recall, one day previous to my departure, I visited my relatives who live in San Pedro Sula. They were all very happy for me to see me except my grandmother Isabel. She looked sad; even though she tried to smile at all times when I was talking to her, I knew that deep inside of her, her heart was broken because of my departure the next morning. I remember that I even told her, “Grandma, do not worry about me, I’ll be fine. I promise that I will write you letters and send you pictures as much as possible.” Here reply was, “I know sweetie I know you will.” Suddenly after she said that I started to cry. For som...
My heart was pounding as I boarded my flight leaving the Bangkok International Airport. A flight attendant in a grey dress with a red bow draped over her shoulder announced; “Welcome aboard flight AA350 to the United States.” My journey began that day.
It was the second semester of fourth grade year. My parents had recently bought a new house in a nice quite neighborhood. I was ecstatic I always wanted to move to a new house. I was tired of my old home since I had already explored every corner, nook, and cranny. The moment I realized I would have to leave my old friends behind was one of the most devastating moments of my life. I didn’t want to switch schools and make new friends. Yet at the same time was an interesting new experience.
It was in the beginning of 2010. I graduated to tenth grade, the senior year of the school. My emotions were driven by both anxiety and exultation. Since the final score in the tenth grade was a yardstick of our knowledge-gained and hard-work done throughout our schooling, all of us were concerned. However, the feeling of freedom after the tenth grade kept us elated. Those memories are quite vivid in my memory.
When I got home I quickly got ready, I ironed my cap and gown, did my make-up and hair, and made my last phone call to Andrew. I called him right before I left and asked him if he was sure he did not want a ride. Again he responded politely and on my way I went. When I got to the high school everyone was taking pictures, laughing, and talking about how they were g...