Personal Narrative: A Day At Pinnacle High School

Today was just like any other day at Seaport High School in Seaport, Alabama. The first four periods went by so slow and when fifth period rolled around I was ready to act up with Theo and Allie in AP Stat. We are always getting in trouble in that class. We are pretty sure that our teacher Mrs. Redman hates us, but oh well isn’t senior year of high school meant for getting in trouble and having fun in class. We are all passing with A pluses so I am pretty sure we have room for cutting up in class.

They say that high school is not necessarily the best four years of your life, and I agree. However, I believe that it is a place for unique growth and development–both of which are factors in finding the best in ourselves. With all of this said, I can say that entering Miriam College High School has definitely and ultimately transformed me to become the intellectually and spiritually focused woman I am today.

When coming to Arcadia High School I didn’t know what to feel like, would I say frightened, worried, or energized? For this reason I decided that I felt confused. I was a bit stressed at the thought of getting bad grades. I entered school and saw what looked like a beehive of people going where they needed to go. So like many freshmen on their first day I got lost looking for my first class, it was such a big school and many of the halls weren’t even in alphabetical order. I wound up asking one of the construction workers and they told me that it was “over there”. I didn’t understand because they didn’t point in any direction, I started walking around the corner and saw the same construction worker again, I asked him again and this time he

I woke up early and put on the clothes that I had laid out from the night before. I went to the kitchen grabbed a Poptart and headed out the door to find the bus coming up my street. Walking onto the bus gave me a whiff of Expo Markers and and an overload of Axe cologne that I’m guessing an awkward teenage boy showered in. I sat on the hard, poorly cushioned seat next to a small girl with pigtails and a Doc Mcstuffins backpack. Man, this is my first day of being in the Middle School; first day of sixth grade, I thought to myself. Twenty minutes passed and I was off the bus heading to my locker when a old friend of mine approached me. She told me that my best friend (may I add my only friend) had called me a brat and said she didn’t want to

At 5:45 AM the alarm on my phone blared some generic default tone that I had never gotten around to changing. This was probably the earliest I’ve ever gotten up in my entire life. I groggily removed myself from the pile of blankets on the floor that I had been sleeping in and headed for the shower, brushed my teeth, washed my face and searched my near empty closet for something to wear on my first day of school. Although I was absolutely exhausted and there was yet to be any furniture in my room, I was thrilled to be transferring to Pattonville High School in midst of my junior year and living in a bigger house in a better community.

As I traveled through each grade of the Croton-Harmon High School, my personal and academic goals helped to me to really flourish. These goals may have varied from year to year because a freshman is a little different from a senior, but they basically had all the same concept: I wanted to strive in school to be the best all-around student I could be, constantly stay focused and immerse myself in the Croton community. By setting my expectations and goals very high, I could flourish academically and really work to my full potential.

High school was a roller coaster ride for me, from the endless fun of parties to the minor breakdowns and panic attacks that would land myself in the hospital. The pressure and stress got to me and the fact that failing out of the school that I’ve been going to for twelve years with long life friends was coming to an end. Now that I look back at it though it might have been the best decision for my well-being because then I would of not been able to meet the people that I met at Chamblee Charter High School. You would think moving from a private to a public school would be a big cultural shock, you are very correct. Atlanta International School, which was the school I went for basically my whole life, was a very open minded, well rounded, and accepting establishment since the most of the students where from all over the world. Unlike Chamblee which was, as us teenagers call it, ghetto and ratchet, but that did not really bother me at all. It kind of made me feel like it was where I needed to be to grow as a person and helped me meet the people who I can call family to this day.

“Brrrring!” rang the alarm. I woke up, turned the alarm off, and buried myself under the covers. They were as soft as a kitten’s fur, and as warm as the air from a heater. After a long hug from my blanket, I finally got hot and went to use the bathroom. “Niyah, when you come in here for a second, please,” my mom said.

When I started Unity High School I thought that it was going to be boring school because my first choice was Skyline but my mom made me come to this school so I had to obey what my mom wants because she takes care of me and helps me with whatever I need help with so going to the school that she wanted me to go to was the least I could have done. I thought that high school was going to be difficult because the work that my brother would bring home when he was in high school looked really hard and I did not understand most of the work he needed to complete. But I realized that I need to be taught the material before I go on and do the work and I learned that as soon as I started high school because I started getting the same work that my brother

The balloons are out, the flowers are in bloom, I smell summer. I smell a summer like no other. Not because the groundhog came out early this year, or because I was one year older, but because I was a graduate, from Gilkey International middle school (finally). Sophie comes up to me yelling, super excited for the night ahead, graduation. As we rehearse our ceremony, in our high inched heels and dainty fake eyelashes Charlie runs up behind us screaming in our ear jumping us out of our own skin. He laughs, we pretend to be delerious but how could we really be? Gilkey was over, we were all done there was really nothing more to fuss about. As the day comes to a close, and the festivities begin. We lign up, all dressed up and ready to go until something

Breath was rushing out the kid who wore a Gray and blue uniform, the boy 's hair was black and poked straight up in twisted curls, he had brown eyes that looked like dirt, he was strong and athletic, his name was D’haquille Jones, and I was DhaQuille Jones, staring down at the newly glazed floorboards of John Pickett high school gym. The ref blew the whistle signaling that our time out was over, and all we had was thirteen precious seconds to beat the Valencia high. I jogged onto the court, adrenaline rushing through my body. The ref tossed the ball towards Chris, once he had found the open man he lobbed it over the oncoming defender. Calling for the ball I sprinted around my defender to get open. I Felt the sticky grip of the ball in my hand thinking of it as if I was holding the entire game. I ignored the fans screaming my name and cheering me on. My feet pounded the floor one by one as the ball bounced up and down on the court, with only five seconds I found my lane and took it. Their was the clock taunting me, four,

I drive my white Nissan maxima over the speed bumps probably a little too fast as I leave the parking lot. Once I reach the stop sign, I take a moment to turn around and look at the beautiful school building behind me. Rigby High School—I can’t believe I go there. To me, that beautiful building is almost as breathtaking as the work out I just finished; running over and over through the halls of the school because it’s too cold to run outside. What used to be a small school when I was young has seemed to grow to be competitive and quite big, and seems to grow bigger each year. I’ve lived here ever since I was three. I have a very balanced and happy life here in Rigby and successful career as a student at Rigby High. I run up to ten miles each day in the fall and spring to become an exceptional athlete in both track and cross country in which I’ve had victorious seasons. I go home to three or more hours of homework each night to get straight A’s in all my classes including AP and college courses. Somehow I have found the time to go to sporting events, parties, and service projects where I have made so many friends that are indeed true characters of strength, joy, and goodness. I have worked very hard to obtain the

I’m not an orator, nor am I a scholar. Though I do enjoy a good debate and engaging in intellectual conversations ; I feel like I am never “good-enough”.

As a young aspiring musician in middle school, I wanted to start a band desperately. Instead, I was known as Emerson Middle School 's’ music freak. I posted flyers in businesses around my hometown and online ads. I wanted to be like Amy Lee from Evanescence terribly, but my taste in music was different than most people. When my fellow classmates heard about my compositions and ideas, they thought it was a joke. At first when my classmates told me that they wanted to be in my band, I was overjoyed. I thought that I would be able to have a group to perform and collaborate with in compositions. After a month, my classmates told me it was a joke, and they thought I knew about it. I was heartbroken, but I knew that I needed to be in an environment

Sliding the shifter into the park position lets me know another day at Cave City High School has begun. It is September, so we are in that season of the year when it is a big furry coat from grandma last year in the morning and then flip flops and shorts in the afternoon. Stepping out of my car, I feel the cool air nip at my ears and nose, certainly turning them that slightly embarrassing shade of rosy pink. The sun is peaking over the football stadium behind me, turning everything a bright golden hue. Shadows begin to slowly creep away as the sun moves further up into the fluffy cloud streaked blue beyond. The atmosphere looks as if it were painted with a watercolor paint set this morning.