Personal Narrative: Freshman Year Of High School

Hello Mrs. Kim. I hope you had an amazing summer. I can not believe how summer has gone this fast. And I never really expected high school to come this early. It is as if middle school was still on its way trying to find ways to squeeze in my life, or at least that’s what I feel. But I guess I just have to accept this reality that I am actually starting high school. Now, I had many thoughts before entering this place which some people call living nightmare, and big part of those“thoughts” were dreams. Dreams about my future, Both long and short terms, and inside classes and outside in my social life. And as you read this, I think this will sort of open up myself about who I am for a quick introduction as we start this new and “exciting” school

Sophomore year was an especially hard year for me. It was my second year at Wahlert High School and because I was the new kid the beginning of freshman year, I still felt like the new girl. Plus, I was trying to maintain my social life, play volleyball, participate in band, choir and show choir, act in plays, and manage school and homework.

Today was the day. Lauren had been dreading for this day to come for the entire summer. Today would be her first day of high school. She had no idea what high school was going to be like for her. 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.

The men and women who put their lives at stake for our country, so that citizens may feel safe and secure in the United States, struggle with their own personal battles that impact their lives significantly. According to a recent 2015 poll, nearly 52,336 soldiers were physically wounded, about 320,000 soldiers were suffering from traumatic brain injury, and almost 400,000 soldiers were troubled with post traumatic stress disorder. Physical wounds are a reality of war, and they come in many forms, but these statistics show that brain and emotional injuries are ultimately affecting more war veterans. Given the highly stressful context in which war injuries occur, traumatic brain injury and post traumatic stress disorder are commonly diagnosed

The next time, Jasmine tried to push me down, but instead my hand got caught in the gym door and skin was ripped off. I still have the scar to prove it. The scar has never left my hand and it reminds me of how much I was never wanted in the world. A few times after that day, she tried to get me suspended repeatedly using the same story. She kept telling the story but to different principals at the school. After the third time she tried they told her just to stop trying nothing was going to work.

In Craiglockhart hospital shell-shock and war neurosis roam free through the halls, not only carried by the soldiers who served in France, but, by their beloved Doctor. Doctor Rivers showed various signs that he himself has some instability and a weakened mental health as he carries on through the hospital curing those who exhibited the signs of shell-shock. Doctor Rivers, silent and ready to listen, he listened to many horror stories, many tragedies, to help the soldiers overcome their deficiencies. Yet, no one was there to listen to Rivers, even if there was, he wouldn’t know where to begin. As Doctor Rivers helped overcome their mental illness’ you can’t help but to wonder how he continues his efforts to fix these soldiers, when he needs help fixing himself.

Coming to Job Corps made me realize a lot about myself including how much potential I have within myself. Before coming here I wasn’t as focused as I should have been when it comes to me getting my education. Leaving school early or just not showing up at all became a routine for me. The school I was attending wasn’t as good of a school to even want to show up at. The kids there was very disrespectful which made it hard for those who wanted to learn. I wouldn’t learn nothing even if I would show up which also was one of the reasons I didn’t feel the need to attend. I felt as if the teachers wasn’t doing their job as they should as far as teaching the students what it is they needed to know as well as enforce the rules and policies upon them.

Transitioning from a placid environment to a war zone happens to be easy. For months soldiers train for their deployment and prepare to overcome certain challenges. Converting from the war zone back to home is utterly disparate. To return back to the life that once existed prior to deployment and secluding the survival mindset can occur as difficult. Many soldiers distinguish themselves bestriding two atmospheres. With their mind functioning as if they’re enclosed by danger, but in reality they are in the safety of their prior surroundings. While leaving the war zone with or without physical wounds, they may return with invisible wounds, which are memories and fears from war. When duty calls, veterans leave their families to defend America not aware of the invisible wounds that can occur. Upon returning to civilian life, veterans most struggle with ingratiating themselves into domestic civilization.

I was able to grow up into adulthood as I experienced a significant event, pushing me out my comfort zone, and learning who I truly am, thus better preparing myself for the future. And this was made possible due to my time dorming at Cal Poly Pomona, as a student of the Pasadena City College Upward Bound Program. However, in truth, intentionally, I didn’t want to go. Afterall, during my childhood, I was an easy target for bullies, constantly physically and verbally abused; lasting from elementary school to middle school. And due to this, I became a much more antisocial and shy person. But regardless, I still went because of my parents and my oldest brother, Edgar Diaz, an alumni of Upward Bound, told me that it would be good for me. I thought nothing of it at the time, but in the end, they were right.

This year, I applied to be a teacher's assistant with my favorite AP teacher, thinking it would be an easy credit. Little did I know, it would turn out to be an important learning experience for myself. The first week of school our conversations consisted of casual small talk. As time progressed I started to open up to him about problems in my life; my parents recent divorce, my long term depression, and my obsession with my grades. My teacher sympathized with me, telling me his own struggles growing up with his parent's divorce, his battles mental illness, and his poor grades. The parallels in our lives seemed like fate. One day I was close to tears, ranting to him about how no matter how hard I studied, someone would always fault be for

In 2007, my mom, sister, and I all moved to Houston from Pennsylvania. In elementary school and most of middle school, my dad seldom called me outside of school, and it was hard for me to talk to him even when he visited me. In 7th grade, my mom would frequently get mad at me, and I would have nobody else to have a conversation with about my troubles, because my Dad was often busy with work. Although these problems seem troubling, long, and difficult, I still got through them. I ended my 7th grade year at Trafton with a very low self-esteem with hatred for everything, but was ready to take on the challenge of a new school,

My first year of middle school was when music became a challenge for me. I had been playing the flute for three years and in those three years, music seemed to come to me naturally and I had no issue playing music that was put in front of me. Because I had been playing longer than most kids in my school, I was asked to join the honors band which was comprised of the best players in the school. The first day of official practice was when I encountered the piece of music that challenged me for months, Geneva by Timothy Broege.

Towards the end of the summer of 2015, I received a phone call from my counselor explaining to me that I could not participate in the Health Career Education (Nursing program) program at my school without it clashing with all my Advanced Placement (A.P) classes. That is because the block I wanted to be in unfortunately clashed with my A.P. Literature class. I was devastated because not being in the A.P. classes I had chosen would prevent me from receiving an Advanced Diploma when I graduate and not getting into HCE would prevent me from getting clinical experience for the field I want to work in and also prevent

I was in first grade, school was out for the weekend. It was a calm sunny day with temperatures in the upper 70’s. McKenna, my neighbor yelled over for me to play, and her friend Kari was also there. They were playing happily on her trampoline. They got off and walked over to the swing set to play on the slide, and I started to swing.

My first day of high school as a freshmen in a new level of education Is what I was thinking when I woke from slumber that morning in bed. Stepping foot on the campus wasn’t even the beginning, taking the school bus in the morning is where the first taste of being a freshmen and actually starting and being an high school student. I started to get really nervous and a sense of reality hit me. Walking towards the bus stop all I see is a huge group of high school students waiting around for the bus, calm and cool as I try to stay to be I approach the waiting area not knowing what to I’m getting into. This surge of anxiety