College Essay Draft 2 Standing at the foot of my driveway, in the shadows of early morning, my excitement increased as the faint squeal of breaks grew louder. A few moments later the unmistakable yellow figure of a school bus appeared over the crest of the hill. Climbing aboard, making my way back, taking a seat, the excitement I had felt only a moment ago began morphing into apprehension, even fear, as my first day at Hamden High School began. After ninth grade, I began running scenarios, in my mind, how transferring to from a small homogenous coddled environment to the huge real world environment of Hamden High School was going to prove difficult. How often would I get lost while navigating it’s three-square shaped floors, filled with 2000 students and faculty not the 40 traversing a single floor that I was used? What other problems, which I had not even thought of? However what I found out surprised me. Not only did all the problems I faced turn out to be no big deal but the real world environment of Hamden High afforded me many opportunities that my small homogenous community could not. The multiple floors, the one aspect I imagined was going to be difficult to acclimate too proved to be not much of a problem at all. by the second day of school, I conjured a mental map, complete with the most expeditious route enabling me to transition smoothly from one classroom to the next. I would never have imagined that the …show more content…
I was astounded by the plethora of classes and extracurricular activities that were offered at Hamden. I was able to explore my interests by taking courses in physics, astronomy, and film as well as participating in after school activities such as Science Club, Community Emergency Response Team (CERT), First Robotics Team, Sikorsky STEM Challenge Team, and Math Team. I am equally grateful for being surrounded group of
The day before I started middle school, my older brother, Harrison, asked me what I was the most excited about. I replied, rather foolishly, that I was excited to get lost. I held a vision in my mind of Camels Hump Middle School as a huge and complicated building, Hogwarts-esque in scale, with twisting hallways and hundreds of unique rooms. I wanted to explore, get lost, and take a big step outside of my comfort zone. Harrison let me know that our middle school consisted of 4 hallways, nobody gets lost, and staying inside of comfort zones is like a professional sport in middle school.
”It was very shocking, but it gradually became more comfortable.” “I’m pretty comfortable,” said Ellison Girod, another student optimistically beginning her first year at Conifer. ” I know a few teachers already and I really like it here, so it’s a lot easier. It seems a lot better than middle school and I feel like [the school year] is going to go well.”
It would be remiss of me to try and write about the adversities I have faced as a high school student attending Blythewood High School, without first reflecting on the many blessings I have been awarded. I attend a wonderful school with some of the best teachers in South Carolina who provide quality education and the tools that I must use to succeed in any field of life. I was also fortunate enough to grow up in a nuclear household with two educated parents who were able to help me with anything that I lacked in, whether that may be hiring a tutor for me or sitting at the kitchen table late at night to help me finish my homework. The adversities that I have faced are miniscule in comparison to some of the students that I sit right next to in class, but I have had my share of difficulties too. I remember starting my freshman year at Blythewood High School thinking about all the changes that I would have to face, transitioning from Kelly Mill Middle School to this large campus in this little town of Blythewood.
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 felt safe as I entered the building, and it immediately felt like home. For the first period, I had art. We were to create a piece on synthesia.
As everyone enters through the same doors, memories from middle school are reminisced as the bonds of friendship strengthen. Expressions of how tired they are are exchanged with chuckles and sighs. The collection of Seneca students who are kind enough to smile or hold doors radiate with a sense of belonging. Even at this early hour, the Seneca High School Community shares experiences and enhances its
With truancy issues no longer a problem and morale as high as Mt. Washington, school is fun again. The whole atmosphere of the district has changed from ‘I can’t’ to ‘I can.’ Even Dennis, who years before couldn’t imagine himself walking during commencement graduated and now holds a media specialist internship where he is highly successful. You might be wondering “how was this drastic change accomplished
Even in a room full of people, I felt alone. When I was a sophomore, I moved from the East coast, to the South. With a time zone in between my old life and my new one, I knew this transition would not be an easy one. On the first of school, fight or flight instincts kicked in and I wanted to run away.
From an outsider's perspective, Willow Glen High School looked alright; it had a fresh coat of beige paint and the buildings were lined with relatively well kept bushes. Despite this clean outward appearance, the bathrooms wreaked of weed, the AC in the classrooms were always on full blast no matter the temperature outside, frigid or otherwise, and the somehow always sticky floor tiles that kept your shoe stuck to the ground for a slightly uncomfortable amount of time. The amount of love that I have for a place such as this is baffling. I spent a significant amount of time crying about how much I hated being there but this place had given me more than I had ever realized at the time.
A freshman, I couldn’t believe the horror stories I was hearing about my fellow classmates. “So and so went drinking last night,” “Did you hear about that party?” “He could have got a DUI.” What happened in the short summer between eighth grade and freshman year, where these innocent kids went off the deep end? I was amazed, and decided that I wanted absolutely no part of that transition.
So, I got my bag ready, and headed out. My plan was to walk to my friend Malcolm’s house, and take the city bus to Glashan Public school. I went out my front door and began to walk. As I walked, I thought about who would be my teachers? How much homework would I have?
In those eight years, having seen the same twenty students and fifteen teachers day after day, I became very attached to the school. I was very proud to say that I had been in every room in the entire building at least once, except the boiler room, which students weren 't technically allowed in, and to which I had made it halfway down the stairs. In June, I graduated from Pen Ryn, left behind eight years of my life, and prepared myself to go to a bizarre new high school called George School, which I was terrified of.
My first day of high school as a freshmen in a new level of education Is what I was thinking when I woke from slumber that morning in bed. Stepping foot on the campus wasn’t even the beginning, taking the school bus in the morning is where the first taste of being a freshmen and actually starting and being an high school student. I started to get really nervous and a sense of reality hit me. Walking towards the bus stop all I see is a huge group of high school students waiting around for the bus, calm and cool as I try to stay to be I approach the waiting area not knowing what to I’m getting into.
It was below freezing weather on a Friday in December when I reached a decision that I had always known the outcome to; I needed to transfer high schools. I graduated the 8th grade thinking that I had struck gold. I would be attending a performing arts high school, in midtown Manhattan, with students as deeply engaged in their craft as I am. My romanticized idea of what high school could be like clouded my objectivity. Not to say that I didn’t research the school extensively; I did attend the open house, three auditions, and get input from current students.
I detached from the ease and security provided in my previous safe haven. Thrown into a foreign school and expected to institute brand new friendships, I hesitantly established my beginning as I grew into high school. My existence served as the quiet girl in the back of the room where teachers had little awareness of my name or the sound of my voice. Every day, I would go through seven hours without saying a word in class. I began to wonder how I would survive the next four years of my life.