..::CIS Snapshot::..
When I think of CIS one thing always comes to mind. My first day. No, not my first day this year. The day I’m referring to was the first time I ever came to CIS last year. Near completion of the Danish “Folke Skole” you have to choose and apply to various “Gymnasiums” much like applying for university after high school in the states. One of the schools I wanted to attend was CIS. I asked my supervisor if she couldn’t arrange a day where I could go to CIS and see what the IB programme was all about. She said she would try and the next day I got a letter from her telling me the date and time when I would have to go to CIS.
When I first arrived at CIS, I was a little overwhelmed at the size. It isn’t a very big school but its layout was a little difficult and I had a hard time finding my way around until I finally ask a student where a Mrs. Richardson was. He, of course, didn’t know. After about 10 minutes of wandering around the halls I finally find the office and they tell me her office was downstairs. I find her at last and she seemed confused why I was there. Apparently she thought I wasn’t due until the week after. I was beginning to have some doubts about the organisational skills of the school. She looks around the halls and pulls the first student she can find to the side and asks if she doesn’t mind showing me around. She nods and tells me to follow her quickly as she was late for class. So my first class at CIS was art. I thought this was going to be fun as I always liked art but after the first mind numbing hour I realised that this wasn’t cut out for me. The class itself was fine and the teacher was a fun guy but I had nothing to do other than just watch the other students make their brilliant masterpieces of art. There was one high point and that was when the art teacher told the class that he read an article about a homicidal doctor who would stick ice picks up people’s noses. Fun. After two hours we were finally allowed to go.
“Now what” I thought. Well apparently nothing.
I soon found myself at the open door of Mrs. Walker’s office. I could hardly contain my excitement as I situated myself in the cushioned black chair in front of her. She said to me delicately with compassionate eyes, “I know how bad you want to go, but only one student from our school was selected to attend. It was not you.” She encouraged me to pursue other opportunities over the summer, but her words went in one ear and out the other. I left her office with a pout on my face, feeling somber and
We had a presentation provided for the Deaf and Hard of Hearing students about the process of transition, and in my junior year I attended only one college fair. While I was able to explore my options, that was it. Moreover, as a Deaf person, the only universities I knew right off the top of my head that provided access and services for Deaf students were Gallaudet University in Washington D.C. and Rochester Institute of Technology (RIT) in New York. I know better now, but at the time I didn’t think there were very many options for me. I wanted to attend a university where I would receive access and services, but I also did not have any particular desire to go an extremely long distance away from home. At school I did not receive much guidance and I did not know half of the things that I should have had known when going through the application process. I had no idea what I was doing and my parents had to assist me. As a result, when I discovered California State University of Northridge, we submitted enrollment and housing applications in late. I did not have a place to stay for the first two weeks of college. I ended up staying with a host family, and I left as soon as a dorm room opened up. If I had been more prepared, known how the process worked, and that I had to apply early, then this wouldn’t have
Three months later and I was off to The Mariah Paulk College of the Arts. It took me two hours to arrive at the school and off I go to orientation. The woman that was speaking was boring me to death all I wanted to do was explore the dorms and find out who my roommates
My sixteen week class in English 111. I was really nervous about this class. Because English has never been my strong point. This class has hard, but fun all at the same time. I learn a lot from this class. Meanwhile,the first day of class you handed a paper with a question on it. “The first thing I want to say to you who are students is that you must not think of being here to receive an education; instead, you will do much better to think of being here to claim one.” Even though putting my all in what I have learned, claiming my education with hard work because using the skills of the meal plan, as we write to different audiences and learning to be a Critically thinker as I start becoming a critically-Literate Citizenship.
Orange and white buildings, orange and white sidewalks, and orange and white clothed students are all that this graduate student would see during her days at UT Austin. Most days, three hour seminars are what she looked forward to and those were definitely not her favorite. Afterwards, Lisa would have lab work and research to complete in her classes, and those hard math classes would make her lively face change to disgust. During one of her classes, all of her research was deleted due to a computer crash. To this day, she uses that experience as a lesson to students to save their work. Lisa has shared her good and bad days at UT Austin, but the overall experience was immensely enjoyable she says. She met a lot of friends that she still has to this day at UT Austin, but her studies did indeed bring a new stress into her life. Funny thing is her initial plans had nothing to do with what she’s doing now. She took a position as a teacher during her graduate studies, and she simply realized just how much children really meant to her. Developmental psychology was all she ever knew after her experience as a teacher, and Lisa dedicated her time, her research and her lab work to children.
As the dull scent of chalk dust mixes imperceptably with the drone of the teacher's monotone, I doodle in my tablet to stay awake. I notice vaguely that, despite my best efforts in the shower this morning after practice, I still smell like chlorine. I sigh and wonder why the school's administration requires the students to take a class that, if it were on the Internet, would delight Mirsky (creator of Mirsky's Worst of the Web), as yet another addition to his list of worthless sites. Still, there was hope that I would learn something that would make today's first class more than just forty-five wasted minutes... It wouldn't be the first time I learned something new from the least likely place.
At the end of every school year, I looked forward to our annual Award 's Day Program. It was the best day ever. Moms and Dads took off work to come watch their kids get rewarded. My mom made Awards Day an even bigger deal; she bought balloons, gifts and pretty much the entire family with her. She was proud, and she had every right to be. I was a great student until I reached high school, and then something happened---Composition 1. My first day walking into Composition 1, I noticed a curly head person who wore a colorful bowtie. He looked funny to me, nerdy almost. He had a full coffee station
This would mark day number one of classes. I was not alone as I realized the other number of students were just like me, alone and disordered. The school resembled my old high school, with long hallways and multiple classroom doors, which reminded me that I had no clue where I was going. I figured I would have this problem so I had printed my schedule out the night before to use as an atlas to navigate me toward my multiple destinations for the day. All my prior preparations for this day of classes seemed to be failing me already. While I frantically screened for the right door number and avoided the glares from the upper classmen to hide my embarrassment, I had finally arrived at my first class, Chemistry
I walked in and my stomach made a flip-flop like riding “The Scream” at Six Flags. Everyone was staring at me! With their curios eyes and anxious to know who I was. I froze like ice and felt the heat rise through my face. My parents talked to my teacher, Ms.Piansky. Then my mom whispered “It’s ti...
School had just started; it was the fall of my sophomore year. I was excited about having new teachers and being able to boss around those little freshmen since I had finally lost that ridiculous title of “freshy.” Although one class did turn all that excitement right into knots in my stomach, it was English 10. Ugh I hated English, partially because I could never remember all those rules of writing, which I had just thought of as “dumb.” I figured, “Why would I ever need to know all them? Computers will be able to fix all my mistakes for me!” As I would soon find out, boy was I ever wrong. Surprisingly, class was going good; our teacher Mr. Mieckowski seemed to be a little weird and quite boring at times but all in all not too bad I mean who isn’t boring occasionally? He had a shiny head with very little hair and never wore long sleeves to class. He was also quite tall and skinny, so everyone had his or her own conclusion about Mr. Mieckowski’s personal life. A lot of the time this ended up being the topic of conversation for his students, along with his hatred towards icicle lights, white reindeer, and especially technology; the thing I loved most.
I nervously opened the doors to my future, hoping for the best for myself. At first, I believed departing to class would be simple, but when the bell rang for the first time I had no idea what class room goes where and how busy the halls were going to be. Suddenly, the entire world around me scrambled to class, and on occasions bumping each other along the way; it was a widespread panic for most of the freshmen. Fortunately, I found some wonderful teachers to direct me to my rooms that I will spend the next year
It was finally the first day of school; I was excited yet nervous. I hoped I would be able to make new friends. The first time I saw the schools name I thought it was the strangest name I’ve ever heard or read, therefore I found it hard to pronounce it in the beginning. The schools’ floors had painted black paw prints, which stood out on the white tiled floor. Once you walk through the doors the office is to the right. The office seemed a bit cramped, since it had so many rooms in such a small area. In the office I meet with a really nice, sweet secretary who helped me register into the school, giving me a small tour of the school, also helping me find
My first time being as a compere seems to happen yesterday, and I can remember every single details of that day. After my teacher announced me that I would be the compere of the School’s Art Event. I was so surprised and wanted to refuse. However, my teacher
Summer break was over, and it was the time to go back to school to my eleventh grade. School for me wasn’t that different as my summer break. I never felt like not going to school after a long summer break because I used to have a lot of fun in school. School for me was a place where you would socialize, gossip, brag, drive attention, miss conduct, daydream, text students, sing, ask silly questions and flirt with girls. I think now you know how my days at school used to be. However, a day has come that I would not expect it to come at all. I suddenly became a much disciplined student that I would not do anything out of the way. It all happened when I meet my new physics professor Jamal Betar who has wonderful qualities that amaze him from other teachers, and he also gave me the true meaning of education that I have never thought of before in my life.
I got up early that morning due to an improper sleep during the previous night. It was due to the anxiety to start fresh with my new life. I was determined to be the best in whatever it is that I do, so that I would have something to be proud of in the pages of my life. Due to the fear of reaching late during my first day, I reached one hour earlier than necessary and decided to spend some time at KTC (Kelapa gading Trade Center) which is located right beside the University. I was hoping that time would move a lot faster because I wanted to find out about what was going to happen next. But it is a common fact that if we are anxiously waiting for something, time would seem to crawl a lot slower. When it was finally the time to head back to the campus, I hoped for everything to go on smoothly, just as how I expected it. I braced myself and went to meet Sofia, who was responsible for the new students, to inquire about my classroom. After being instructed on which room to go to, I started walking towards the class, the mixture of excitement and nervousness start to fill within me. I started to feel like standard 1 all over again where I was a little kid who didn’,t know where to go. I didn’,t know anyone in the class except for Diksha who is my childhood friend.