Personal Narrative: Prairie Ridge High School

I was not prepared for what was coming next. A group of thirty high school students were shoved into dorms for eight weeks and were expected to learn and create a

They say that high school is not necessarily the best four years of your life, and I agree. However, I believe that it is a place for unique growth and development–both of which are factors in finding the best in ourselves. With all of this said, I can say that entering Miriam College High School has definitely and ultimately transformed me to become the intellectually and spiritually focused woman I am today.

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.

At the age of 12 my life was about to change forever. My mother and father decided to move to the United States. They thought that I would be better off going to school here in u.s. They left me and my two sisters with my grandmother. After four years it was time for me and my two sisters to finally see our parents. I had traveled a long distance from Ethiopia in order to be with my parents who had been here for four years, hoping America would help my future.

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.

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.

In the middle of the winter of the 5th grade school year at the Kaneland Mcdole Elementary School, I decided to cover for my best friend so he wouldn't get in trouble from my teacher. It was very cold while I waited at the bus stop every morning trying to amuse myself by sliding down the icy driveways. Ethan S., Sergio, and Grant were my best friends in 5th grade. Sergio was Mexican and a little shorter than me. He also sat next to me in desks of 5 or 4. Grant was the best of friend anyone could have. He loved sports and sitting next to me on the bus. We got on the bus and on the way to school.

In the spring of 2012, I was informed that we were going to move. As a thirteen going on fourteen year old, the news was rather jarring. I was born and raised in that house, in that town, it was all I knew. We packed up our belongings and began the 678 mile journey to our new “home.” Moving from Hartland, Michigan to Durham, North Carolina was not only immense in distance, but in way of life. It was a culture shock. I grew up in a small town where the population was 98% white. Durham is a larger city with a population of only 40% being white. In the new school I attended, I was a minority, and it was eye opening. I walked in hallways full of a multitude of skin colors, all brightening my world. While it took me a while to become acclimated,

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.

How life goes on we experience a lot of things that can either teach us an important lesson or nothing at all. I have learned more than one lesson in my life, but there’s one that I will always keep in mind to help others like it helped me. Thanks to John Tyler High School Drill Team I have self-confidence and courage to do risky things that I never thought I would be doing. Now I believe in myself and I don’t let fear dull my success, I fight for what I want until I get it even if it take a long time, I don’t give up that easy anymore.

We lived in the North Heights area of Amarillo, across the train tracks and I guess we would considered urban. Growing up in the 60’s we had neighborhood schools, I attended kindergarten at Miss Rosenberg’s Kindergarten, we graduated with white caps and gowns and I was really happy. She was a black woman with a Jewish sounding name, who was our leader who taught us the basic of learning. I attended North Heights Elementary School beginning in first through sixth grade Our high school, Carver High School was forced to close its doors to integrate and become a junior high school by the order the president of the United States. As I mentioned we had teachers that taught us, because they were like us, we didn’t experience a great deal of discipline

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

Three years ago, my life took a turn for the better. I moved from Virginia to North Carolina after my freshman year and it was one of the best things I have ever done for myself. Throughout my transition of moving and living in North Carolina with my family, I have reached my full potential and have thrived in my academics. I have pushed myself to be the best of my ability in my academics. I am also an active member of my community through spending my time volunteering in many different forms.

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.