Personal Narrative: Bookman Road Elementary School

When I was attending Kaneland John Shields Elementary School in Sugar Grove, everday was just the same. First we started out with Silent reading our books, and then moved onto reading with our guided reading books. Next, we would move onto writing, where some days we free wrote and others we had an assignment. After Writing we had specials, which consisted of, art, P.E, computer,and music. Then we had lunch, math,and lastly social studies and science.

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.

February sixth was the day of my last middle school game. We were playing our rivals , Ledford middle school. The first time we played them we only lost by two points.

There it was, standing in the distance, a tall gloomy gray-colored building. With a few splashes of blue paint added to the dull cement to add color to what would otherwise be a lifeless building.This building was non-other than the one and only Stoller Middle School. I never referred to it as a middle school but more as a prison, it was full of rules that were put in place just to suck away any possible fun from a child’s mind. Maybe I didn’t like the place because I was suspended five times from it. My latest suspension happened the day after I had just come back from the fourth one.

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.

When it comes to sports my family has many ties to Middletown High School South. In the Going as far back as the 1980’s when my Dad attended the same high school. He was a standout wrestler for the team and was given multiple scholarships to wrestle in college. My family name is everywhere within the trophy rooms and walls of Middletown South. I am the youngest of three children with two older sisters coming through high school before me. Both of my sisters were outstanding runners for Middletown South and are now running on collegiate levels. Then there is me following in my dad 's footsteps, trying to leave my mark in Middletown South 's wrestling history.

In the middle of the winter of the 5th grade school year at the Kaneland Mcdole Elementary School, I decided to cover for my best friend so he wouldn't get in trouble from my teacher. It was very cold while I waited at the bus stop every morning trying to amuse myself by sliding down the icy driveways. Ethan S., Sergio, and Grant were my best friends in 5th grade. Sergio was Mexican and a little shorter than me. He also sat next to me in desks of 5 or 4. Grant was the best of friend anyone could have. He loved sports and sitting next to me on the bus. We got on the bus and on the way to school.

For most of my life lived in Wisconsin. I graduated from Mahone middle school and had mostly A's and B's from my class. Most of my classes were not honors and it never appeared to me that I would go far in life. So when I enter Glen and Fike High school, everything changed dramatically in my academic.

In the middle of the winter of the 5th grade school year at the Kaneland Mcdole Elementary School, I made a decision to protect my best friend so he wouldn't get in trouble from my teacher. It was very cold while I waited at the bus stop every morning trying to amuse myself by sliding down the icy driveways. Ethan S., Sergio, and Grant were my best friends in 5th grade. Sergio was Mexican and a little shorter than me. He also sat next to me in desks of 5 or 4. Grant was the best of friend anyone could have. He loved sports and sitting next to me on the bus. We got on the bus and on the way to school.

1226 Piedmont School Rd resided directly across the street from an enormous, private K-12 academia of the same name; the house serving as the poster child of the neighborhood’s median income to all who commuted to and from the institution. In front, the driveway curved in a half-circle, at just the perfect angle to make mom’s new E-class look pristine facing the road. Supplementing the view on either side, two Japanese Maples my father planted for my brother and I as a birthday present: one named after him, and the other after me. In the spring the leaves sprouted out from the branches with five tips, like hands reaching for the sun; in the fall they turned bright red, like a bouquet of roses before perishing. Against the backdrop of the brick

One time I came across failure. It all started when playing in a baseball game for Serra High School. Up to that game we had been undefeated in league play. As the game moved along it got more and more intense. Every batter and runner on base you could tell both teams were completely focused on winning that game. Each inning went by in a flash until the 5th inning, Mitty had tacked on a couple of runs making it 3-0 Mitty. Then my team came to bat and stayed at bat for a while scoring 5 runs making it 5-3 Serra.

We lived in the North Heights area of Amarillo, across the train tracks and I guess we would considered urban. Growing up in the 60’s we had neighborhood schools, I attended kindergarten at Miss Rosenberg’s Kindergarten, we graduated with white caps and gowns and I was really happy. She was a black woman with a Jewish sounding name, who was our leader who taught us the basic of learning. I attended North Heights Elementary School beginning in first through sixth grade Our high school, Carver High School was forced to close its doors to integrate and become a junior high school by the order the president of the United States. As I mentioned we had teachers that taught us, because they were like us, we didn’t experience a great deal of discipline

All my 8th grade classmates and I sit on the cafeteria floor at Daniel Wright Middle School, giggling and staring at the gigantic screen. A slideshow plays. Often mortifying pictures of our younger selves appear with our names. I recollect all the vivid memories from middle school and earlier, like when my 5th grade teacher accidentally threw a snowball at one of my classmates. My friends and I sit together, hollering when we see each other on the screen. The end of our middle school days.

I entered Bishop Connolly High School in fear. I thought I would be drowned by homework, and I thought that I would find difficulty in finding friends. Those notions were not true. But aside from my fears for high school, I had an aspiration to become to closer to God. My family is religious, and I intend to carry the tradition to going to Church every Sunday and every Holy Day of Obligation, but there is more beyond going to Church. As children of God, we are given a purpose to serve for and protect His creation. God created this beautiful world, and it is our job to maintain it and those who inhabit it. We are sent to spread the word of God, and to protect the Church and the Catholic faith. I hoped that I could carry out my mission by going

Stumble. Survive. Create a new generation. The cycle of striving for perfection and purpose reveals itself to those who contribute to the heirs of the human condition, children, and I was one of them, quivering with a hand on my shoulder advising me on when to draw and how to breathe. As I cautiously signed my name to the organization which, unbeknownst to my seventh-grade self, would become my young legacy, my self-definition, I didn 't think about the many friends—rather, and pardon my cliché, family—that I would make. When tryouts for the school 's first year of having an archery team arrived, I, nervous and irresolute as ever, took from my coach for the first time the bow that would be my counselor and companion for years thereafter.