After I had performed a few times in class to my coach and my peers, I knew I was ready. Nixa High School held the first tournament that I had ever competed in. I first had to make it through two rounds of preliminaries to advance to the semifinals. After my first two performances, I was feeling confident. As soon as the results were posted, I saw that I had advanced to semifinals. Semifinals consisted of one round, judged by three judges. I was still pleased of my wins from the preliminary rounds, so I thought I was untouchable. While performing, I had forgotten a key part of my piece. I was heartbroken; I had let myself, as well as my coach, down. After the round of semifinals, the results were posted immediately. I did not bother
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.
One freezing February Saturday, I needed wake up at six in the morning to go play in a volleyball tournament. The rest of my family was in Arizona and had left me in Iowa Falls, so I wouldn 't miss my finishing tournament of the season. I wasn 't jubilant about it, but I agreed anyway. My grandma drove me up to Dike New Hartford High School.
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.
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.
I attended Henry E. Lackey High School in Indian Head MD which is in Charles County MD I attended Lackey High School my ninth and both my tenth grade years around the beginning of 2016. My last month in Lackey High School was in February, before I left Cousin Jerry and the PPW from my high school told me about Job Corps. I couldn’t stay at Lackey because of the drama going on and my cousin knew Job Corps could provide me with a high school diploma and provide direction for my life. At Lackey High School I was constantly in trouble arguing, being defiant about the rules, and not attending class.
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.
The announcer started announcing the top 15 scores to come and receive their award. As the announcer went down the list, I hadn’t heard my name yet and when he got to the 8th place award my name was called, all my hard work had paid off. At first going into the tournament I was very nervous, But after I was proud of myself for setting a goal and completing it.
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.
I was lost. Friends were not at my disposal. Time was in abundance. Thoughts was all i had. Freshman through Christmas break of my sophomore year I attended Berks Catholic High School, but before that I graduated from a feeder school named Scared Heart School.
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.
Laconia Middle School was the local school for those that lived in Laconia. Knowing most of my classmates and having many friends I felt as though I was at a very good place in life. Attending school everyday was fun for me. I got to be in classes with my best friends, had some of my favorite teachers, worked out a wonderful schedule and played the sports I loved, but if anything middle school was especially important to me was when I began to pick up a fascination for history and also began to realize how the Bosnian War had affected me as a person. Seventh grade was the year I was asked to write an essay about my biggest fear.
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”. I always seem to find myself comparing myself to others. Whether it’s my grades or appearance. I never feel worthy.
I entered the doors of Forge Road Elementary School on a Monday morning with a glowing, vibrant smile. My fellow fifth grade classmates were astonished by my hair, perfectly pressed and straitened, cascading from the top of my head down to my shoulder blades. The night before, my mother finally complied with my importunes and strayed away from our Sunday night tradition of braiding my hair into what seemed like a hundred tiny, stiff braids. Sunday nights were war; my knotted and curly hair the enemy, my mother the brave warrior, and the comb her weapon. I was joyfully elated when my mother agreed to straighten my hair .
I’ll never forget how I felt the first time I walked into Prairie Ridge High School. I was surrounded by approximately sixteen hundred other students and I knew exactly none of them. I had never been that alone before and when I walked through the cafeteria doors, I felt the first seed of doubt that maybe I should have stayed in Union, with my mom. At that moment, I wanted to turn around and run out of Prairie Ridge, hop in the car, and drive the four hundred miles back to my friends, my teammates, and the majority of my family. Instead, I took a deep breath and sat down.
I was in two elementary schools,the first was Panama Elementary school. I was their for k - 4th grade and then moved to Leo B Hart Elementary school. I was nervous when I was going to go to jr high. My biggest concern was me being short and not fitting in. Also I thought it was going to be extremely difficult like my teachers explained, but when I was finally done with seventh grade it was not as hard as i thought.