Personal Narrative: My First Racist

Everything was black until my rude awakening. I woke up to the sound of my alarm clock shrieking like no tomorrow. I throw myself out of my bed trying not to fall back asleep. I think to myself, Great, another day of school, and that was my first thought, the first thing I thought about the day, but what I would be thinking later would be much worse. Tomorrow I have my first geometry unit and next week I would be having my first geometry quiz. I walk upstairs, because my room is in the basement, and I open the door to find my dad sitting at the table. “Good morning,” he exclaimed, as I start to put on my ID. My dad usually has a great attitude in the morning, which is kind of ironic to me because usually people are cranky in the morning.

“Good morning,” i say back, and I pick up my fifty ton backpack and slowly walk out the door. In the classroom, the smell of permanent marker took over my nose, the sound of talking kids lay softly in my eardrums, and the sound of Mrs. Cubello's voice fills the room. Mrs. Cubello is my honors geometry teacher, and for some reason is very enthusiastic about her job. Usually when I

When I got home, I threw my backpack onto the couch and immediately started to worry. I was talking to myself saying things like, “ am going to fail my first geometry quiz,” and “There is no way I could handle this class.” What I didn’t know was that my dad was sitting in the living room listening in the whole time, so he sat me down at the kitchen table and asked me to get out my geometry notes and homework. That whole night we were studying and trying to figure out some very difficult problems. After an hour or two I had to go to soccer, when I got back, I went straight to my books and picked up where I last was. I studied all night long and ended up falling asleep with my geometry book in hand. When I woke up, I got ready for school and grabbed my backpack. If only all of that studying would have payed