Many things pass my mind once I experience them, but this incident left me with a traumatizing repercussion. The first day of 7th grade had arrived, and I was terribly nervous. For as long as I could remember, I had always been that kid that got overly anxious for first days, or any type of social situation for that matter. My anxiousness was most probably fostered from the sheltered environment I grew up in. I was constantly ridiculously shy to socialize or interact with new people.
As I walked along the road to my new school, I spent a few minutes worrying about what school would be like. Would everyone think I was stupid and weird because I couldn’t talk in english? Will I be able to make new friends? What if the teacher was scary? My mom and dad gave my hands a warm squeeze after noticing my solemn expression.
I didn't want to hold a full conversation with anyone in my class unless they were the one to approach me. From this day, I still remember how lonely I felt and how badly I wanted to be accepted. I dreaded to go to recess because I wasn't sure what type of crowd I would “ fit in” with. As I walked in class, I saw everyone divided into various cliques and eventually I found myself every week trying to fit in with a different one. I tried my best to act like those kids in order to fit in, I changed so many things such as my attitude, my clothing, my hairstyles and how I spoke in the span of one year.
Cause there’s a fan right under that spot (lol) and hopefully the Professor would not catch me dozing off during his long lecture. A few minutes later, people starts to enter the class and I guess they are my G107 classmates. My gaze unknowingly looked at every one of them when they walked in but they simply ignore me. Hmph! As if I would like to stare at you.
I’m only successful to cover one subtopic for today’s session. So, I’m not following my lesson plan that includes two subtopics need to be covered. Most of the students can understand what I taught them but it must be in slow pace learning. Moreover, I need to help them to recap back and memorize what they have learnt in math. For the next class, I need to talk loudly because students at the back can’t hear my voice clearly.
From the start of middle school to the first day of ninth grade I was lost, fearful of going and doing different things or anything that was outside of my “norm.” Even just the thought of leaving that comfort zone forced my thoughts down a dim path of self-deprecation. The last few years that I continued to do homeschool were the worst. As I grew older i started wanting conversations
I've been training for it since I was able to walk and t--" the Headmaster explained. She was interrupted once again by the throat clearing curtain monster. "M-more important matter to discuss," she gave a shakey breath, " now I know this is going to sound a little bit...how do I say--batshitcrazy--You guys aren't like other people. Have you ever wondered why there is a separate entire dorm building made for at least 300 students only for 12, why you have your own tables at lunch, or why you don't have any classes with the other kids except for your electives?" "No not really..." The girl next to the blurter answered.
She was a freshman, she recently moved to town, and she knew nothing about her new school. It’s 7:45 and she still hasn’t got out of her bed, and school starts at 8:40, she said to herself, “Hurry up Lauren, you can’t be late for the first day of school!” She sloppily got ready and finally went downstairs after what seemed like an hour. The household always seemed to be chaotic in the morning before school, her brothers would yell at each other, things would be thrown across the table. Waiting in the car, she finally realized that today school started, thoughts came rushing into her mind of all the things that could go wrong. Slamming the door, her brothers finally entered the car and they were finally on the way to their new school.
Walking around my new school by myself for the first time was one of the worst feelings I felt as a small, foreign preschooler. The first few weeks of school, I continued in classes sitting by myself, in a chair that seemed isolated from the bright world, full of laughter and smiles of children. The students around me were so vibrant and full of life, but no one would approach me, and after many days, I lost interest in having friends. My seat became permanent, stuck in a corner where attention would not be drawn. Almost a month after my first day, I finally found the courage to raise my hand in class and I physically felt all the eyes turn onto me when my teacher called on me; and I couldn’t bear the idea of saying a word incorrectly.
How could I not have realized this before? Am I dumb or something? My pre-algebra teacher, Ms. McCommons, was flouncing and hollering around the dimly-lit classroom as she always did when teaching us math; she was really enthusiastic about the subject. However, her animated gestures failed to get my attention as thoughts of my dad were flooding my mind instead. Thankfully, this was my last class, so afterwards I could just head home, relax, and forget about all I had realized that day.