Personal Narrative: The Imitation Game

When I was younger, I loved to play baseball. I would join multiple leagues every year, and spend days in the summer playing pickup games with friends. Of course I had other interests, but baseball 's combination of technical and physical skill stood out to me as something that I loved. As time went on, and I became more serious about the sport, I began to realize that I was actually terrible at it. I understood the strategy and could perform any individual task, but I could never piece it together to play at even an intermediate level. As I continued I became increasingly frustrated, making fewer teams and settling for merely intramural leagues. Finally, I reached an age where I could no longer compete without being selected for a team, and stopped playing competitively altogether.

“Ready, set, action!” Standing on the sidewalk of my middle school, I was directing my first movie, unprofessionally but fearlessly. I barely had any rest the night before since I had panicked terribly about my whimsical project. The idea of making a movie had been as perfect as a fairy tale until I decided to turn it into reality.

It was fall of my eighth-grade year, and I couldn't wait for basketball tryouts. I had been practicing all summer trying to prepare for my first basketball tryout. Then I heard the school bell ring meaning tryouts was in ten minutes. Nervously, I walked into the gym and saw a lot of kids trying out who have played their whole lives; then the coach blew the whistle and we all started warming up. At the end of tryouts, I thought I played great and I was excited to come back for the second day of tryouts the next day. I could barely sleep that night all I was thinking of was playing again. I woke up super early and ran as fast as I could to the school.The second day of tryouts began and the coach said not everyone would make the team, this made

As a young minority male with two African-born parents who received zero education, acceptations were high at a young age. When I was five years old I attended PS 156 elementary school. The school had poor academic grades and eventually shut down after receiving a F. I always managed to maintain mostly As and was consistently top of my classes. I loved school and hated to see it end. When I was in fourth grade I maintained a high grade even though it was sort of a middle school atmosphere. My teacher recommended me to attend KIPP Academy Middle School due to my proficiency in public school. KIPP challenged my work ethic and showed me that oneself needs more than brute intelligence to be successful. I struggled when I first arrived because I

Mckenna, I too wrote about the mindless monster and the negative effects it can have on someone. It's crazy to think about the lengths people will go to please someone and will overwork themselves to make sure others are happy. I believe that the only way to be truly happy is to make sure you're good first. The other aspect I agree with was your point on body language. That is something I need to work on a lot as well. Great Job and I really enjoyed reading your critical thinking

I stared into the dark sky, taking a deep breath. “Tonight...tonight.” I breathed out loud. This past week i’ve felt jittery inside my stomach, holding back the smile i’ve wanted to show. Tomorrow was the day it all happened. I held my legs to my chest and thought about all the good things that could happen.

Ever since I was little, being on Clearfield High School drill team was always a big dream of mine since I saw them perform at multiple of their schools football and basketball games. My parents took me to my first dance class when I was three years old and ever since I fell in love with that particular sport. I was different from all of the other kids at my school because they always got to play with the other kids from school and I always ended up having dance, but I didn’t mind because that was where most of my really close friends was at my childhood dance studio.

In the spring of my freshman year, I was faced with something I had never faced before. I either had to choose my friends and spring break or basketball. I loved basketball, but at the same time, I realized that freshman year was the year to make a lot of friends. All I had heard in the past month was my friends talking about Spring Break. I knew that basketball would take place every single weekend until August 1st. To this day I remember telling my parents that I was questioning playing summer basketball due to having more free time. Throughout the three week break in between Rockhurst basketball and Mokan tryouts, my morale was tested. I understood that basketball could teach me lessons I needed later in life, and that hanging out with friends

I have been doing some thinking about our conversation a few days ago and have concluded that I will take you up on the offer! I just sold my old bike and now have some money left over that I can use to pay for those seminars. I am going to see how soon I can get this done, I am going to look at the dates and send my form in.

Bam, the runner hit the ball. She dropped the bat and ran to first base. Safe, she kept on running to second. As I watched her run I realize she wasn’t stopping at second, or third. Rounding third base, she sprinted to home plate. But just as she had rounded the base, the ball came sailing in to me. I caught the ball and stood my ground in front of home plate, blocking her path. She charged forward, and slid through the dirt, trying to avoid the tag, but I still got her.

I realized that hard practice and confidence would have improved my athletic abilities. I failed to see myself as an individual that could continue with a task - despite the difficulties. But I learned to thrive from my weaknesses. Not only did quitting sports allow for me to focus on my passions, but it taught me to not let obstacles and frustration hinder those passions. Doing what makes me happy is my ultimate goal, even if that means not playing sports - just like everyone

One warm august night my sister Ellie and I watched the film Into the Wild. The story of Chris

Terror fled over the people as the boat went down. People were screaming and trying to find the life jackets. Chloe, Aubriee, and Amanda dropped the lifeboat… they hit the water with a big SMACK!!!

The night settles in, crisp air wafts through my curtains and sting my lungs as I shallowly breathe in. The couch was lumpy as usual, and the blanket was barely thick enough to protect my skin from the soft rippling breeze. Autumn weather, being my favorite, always reminded me of when I was younger. Autumn meant my mother would want to dress me in puffy dresses and big floppy bows that bounced as I trotted along. Leaves crunching under my small shoes that were buckled all neatly. The cold would wrap itself around me and cause me to get sniffles that the nanny would cure with soup and a warm rag for my cold head.

Hearing my future coach blowing his whistle and yelling for us to bring it in for our first varsity practice, I could feel my heart begin to race. Going to a school and joining the varsity team as a freshman with 7 D1 athletes on it and one of the best coaches in the country, one could say I was a tad bit nervous. Looking around in the huddle of teammates and coaches, I knew I had picked the right high school because the group of people surrounding me was going to make me a better basketball player. Having both perspectives of my coach giving me critical feedback of my play and my teammates encouraging me to never give up and keep working hard, I learned that it would be challenging, but if I kept my heart to it, I could reach some