Personal Narrative: Miriam High School

I completed my placement hours at Northside High School. The population of the school is four hundred and seventy students. Of those four hundred and seventy students enrolled at Northside, 95% are White, 2% are Black, 2% are Hispanic, and 1% is Other. The percentage of students identified as living below the poverty index is 33%. Northside had eight class periods a day, which meant each class period was around forty minutes. Northside allowed their students to bring backpacks, have a ten-minute break after second period, and eat lunch in the cafeteria without their fifth period teacher present in the cafeteria. I noticed most of the students brought their lunches and were very well dressed. Most of the students from Northside seem to come

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

When I was young, money was not a big deal when I asked for something. If I wanted it, I begged my mom to get it for me. I never understood why I was unable to get the new toy that just came out, or the new shoes that every girl was about to have on Monday morning when I walked through the doors of Gretna Middle School. The summer before I started middle school, I decided to join a volleyball team. Needless to say, I fell in love with the game and continually tried to better my performance. In seventh grade, when fall was starting to come to an end, I decided to propose the idea of Premier Volleyball Club to my mom; however, she quickly and without hesitation, shot me down. Now, at the time, I had no idea what kind of a financial situation

As a child, high school seemed like a place that was miles away. Everything about it- with the exception of the graffitied bathroom stalls-lit up my eyes with the dream that I would one day be walking down its halls as a student. Although high school felt so far away, Montville High School itself was no stranger to me. When I was younger, my mom tortured me by sending me to the Chinese program held there every Sunday. I also used the school’s athletic facilities from joining the recreation track program, which I stopped going to after two weeks from discovering my antipathy for physical activity. From all of this, I quickly became familiar with what others would think as the overwhelming layout of the school. For some reason, I had always felt

During my elementary school time, I had learned that this world is full of competition and you have to act out in order to stand a chance. I was quite intelligent in my classes, especially on the subject of mathematics. While I thought nothing of it,as I was bullied for that reason, my teachers saw it differently. Then, during the 4th grade, my teacher, Mr.Green, had asked me if I would like to join the school’s math field day team. At first, I wasn’t so sure, but after a few days, I was now a part of my school’s math field day team, along my twin brother, Anthony. That was a decision never regretted in my life, as it showed me that I wasn’t alone, that their were others like me, and able to make friends within my team, which in turn taught the truth of this world.

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.

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.

On Wednesday, February 1, 2017, Chino Hills High School was out of power, resulting all the students got released early. I walked into the school campus about to sit at the normal table that I wait at. I usually get to school thirty minutes early because of traffic. I did notice something was off when I sat down. The area where I sat was a bit darker than usual. Before the bell rings, I would talk to my boyfriend at the time. Then we would head to class. Something was weird from the beginning. We had the same class together but different teachers. My economics teacher arrived a few minutes after the bell had rung. I walked into the classroom. He held the door open. It was dark, but I thought the teacher was going to turn on the lights after

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.

Freshman year came along and I wanted to attend Sullivan High School. I wanted to come back to my hometown, I was just missing the people I started it all out with in the beginning. My dad and I had all of the paperwork finished already to go for me to attend Sullivan High School in August, but my mom refused and wouldn’t budge to let me go. She didn’t want me going to Sullivan, she wanted me to stay with all of my new friends I had made at Owensville. She thought my best bet would be to stay and proceed to go to OHS. So, I went through volleyball season as a freshman at Owensville High School, and it was a good couple of months while it lasted. Come basketball season, I didn’t want to play at Owensville, I wanted to come to Sullivan, and

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

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.

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

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”.

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.