Personal Narrative: Pine Forge Academy

In 7th grade, I transferred from Bryan Middle school to Visitation Catholic School and there was not enough room in the accelerated math program, which ultimately set me behind. In high school, I found myself bored in math and knew I needed to challenge myself, so I ended up setting up a meeting with the math department head and we discussed my options. Sophomore year, I ended up taking two math classes, which was not easy; double the test, quizzes and lessons! However, by taking two math classes, I was able to get myself into a higher math class which ultimately was my goal, and achieving it was an amazing feeling.

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

February sixth was the day of my last middle school game. We were playing our rivals , Ledford middle school. The first time we played them we only lost by two points.

When I was was younger, I was a caterpillar crawling around trying to get through life, waiting to turn into the beautiful butterfly I know I could soon become. I made good decisions along with bad ones, saw the beauty in life as well as the unpleasant. I was like everyone else trying to be their own person, but now as I look at myself in the mirror I can finally see who I really am. I see myself as the beautiful butterfly I once dreamed of becoming, ready to fly down my own path. I have been in my chrysalis and I am finally out and ready to fly into my bright future. Christopher Newport University is the direction I am ready to fly. Transferring to CNU means a brighter future, success, and being one step closer to reaching my goal to become an astonishing kindergarten teacher.

As I traveled through each grade of the Croton-Harmon High School, my personal and academic goals helped to me to really flourish. These goals may have varied from year to year because a freshman is a little different from a senior, but they basically had all the same concept: I wanted to strive in school to be the best all-around student I could be, constantly stay focused and immerse myself in the Croton community. By setting my expectations and goals very high, I could flourish academically and really work to my full potential.

My proudest achievement would be getting into Cumberland International Early College and making it oy my

When I started Unity High School I thought that it was going to be boring school because my first choice was Skyline but my mom made me come to this school so I had to obey what my mom wants because she takes care of me and helps me with whatever I need help with so going to the school that she wanted me to go to was the least I could have done. I thought that high school was going to be difficult because the work that my brother would bring home when he was in high school looked really hard and I did not understand most of the work he needed to complete. But I realized that I need to be taught the material before I go on and do the work and I learned that as soon as I started high school because I started getting the same work that my brother

1226 Piedmont School Rd resided directly across the street from an enormous, private K-12 academia of the same name; the house serving as the poster child of the neighborhood’s median income to all who commuted to and from the institution. In front, the driveway curved in a half-circle, at just the perfect angle to make mom’s new E-class look pristine facing the road. Supplementing the view on either side, two Japanese Maples my father planted for my brother and I as a birthday present: one named after him, and the other after me. In the spring the leaves sprouted out from the branches with five tips, like hands reaching for the sun; in the fall they turned bright red, like a bouquet of roses before perishing. Against the backdrop of the brick

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

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

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”.

All my 8th grade classmates and I sit on the cafeteria floor at Daniel Wright Middle School, giggling and staring at the gigantic screen. A slideshow plays. Often mortifying pictures of our younger selves appear with our names. I recollect all the vivid memories from middle school and earlier, like when my 5th grade teacher accidentally threw a snowball at one of my classmates. My friends and I sit together, hollering when we see each other on the screen. The end of our middle school days.

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

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.

“GOAL!” My final kick as a U-14 soccer player ended the game with a score of 3-2. With that game, the team ended its season in second place, a great accomplishment for this motley bunch. As the season came to a close, and we were awarded our trophies, I was already looking ahead to high school. For years I knew that I would attend Bishop Hendricken High School, a school well-known for its soccer team. I would try out for the team and play soccer all four years. This expectation carried me to “hell week,” as dozens of students strive to attain one of the coveted spots on the soccer team. As feet pounded the ground, and bodies impacted, as the green and gold ball bounced from player to player, I felt at home. And then it all came crashing down.