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High school experience ssay
Highschool experience
Highschool experience
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Title Day 1: I open my eyes, sitting up straight, only to realize that everything is turned 90 degree to the right… Next to us, a yellow school bus lies on its side. Pieces of glass scatters everywhere. Black smokes exit the cranky engine, traverse up to the height of an oak tree, then dissipate into the blue sky.
For most of my life lived in Wisconsin. I graduated from Mahone middle school and had mostly A's and B's from my class. Most of my classes were not honors and it never appeared to me that I would go far in life. So when I enter Glen and Fike High school, everything changed dramatically in my academic.
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.
As a junior I moved from Ryan HIgh School to Braswell High School due to my zoning with the new school. Braswell High School was a brand new high school. I attended the first year it was open in which the highest grade level they offered was juniors. Most of the students moved from their old high schools to Braswell were devastated due to the strong school spirit at their previous schools. The administration at Braswell attempted to inspire new school spirit in all the students especially the junior class.
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. The first five starters for Ledford and our first five including myself were all standing at half court for tip off. The ref. threw the ball up and Gillian tipped it back to me.
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. By following these goals in school I pushed myself very hard and tried to take classes that would challenge me as well as help me to flourish as a student.
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.
There it was, standing in the distance, a tall gloomy gray-colored building. With a few splashes of blue paint added to the dull cement to add color to what would otherwise be a lifeless building. This building was non-other than the one and only Stoller Middle School. I never referred to it as a middle school but more as a prison, it was full of rules that were put in place just to suck away any possible fun from a child’s mind. Maybe I didn’t like the place because I was suspended five times from it.
When I stepped outside the school, the cool wind gently brushed my face. I walked to my bus, strutted up the bus stairs and took my seat in the far back where no one could annoy me. The bus ride seemed like forever watching the city go by, I was the second to last stop, but I liked being last it gave me more time to do homework on the bus. The bus came to halt in my neighborhood, and I walked off the bus towards the large house at the end of the street, the house was a massive, modern structure. I slowly walked in the house and plopped down on the white comfy couch.
As we pull up to the familiar steps of the school, the squeal of the brakes pierces my ears, and the bus arrives at 8:05 am. We soon file out of the bus saying our thank yous and goodbyes to our friendly bus driver. My morning journey has ended, and the odyssey called high school is just
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.
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
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.
Today was just like any other day at Seaport High School in Seaport, Alabama. The first four periods went by so slow and when fifth period rolled around I was ready to act up with Theo and Allie in AP Stat. We are always getting in trouble in that class. We are pretty sure that our teacher Mrs. Redman hates us, but oh well isn’t senior year of high school meant for getting in trouble and having fun in class. We are all passing with A pluses so I am pretty sure we have room for cutting up in class.
I stared out of the train window at passing grasses and trees. It was the end of the summer and everything seemed tired. The tree branches sagged with browning leaves drooping off of the thin wood and yellow grasses wilted under the waves of heat pounding down relentlessly from the sun. I was glad to be indoors, and while it was by no means cool in the train car, open windows provided a steady breeze that made the August heat bearable. I toyed with a stack of letters that sat in my lap, tied together with a single piece of twine.