A couple of weeks ago, the class was assigned a personal narrative essay and the prompt was to tell an interesting story of a specific experience that changed how you acted, thought, or felt. To be honest, I was awfully excited to write this essay because talking about myself is the easiest thing to write about sometimes. However, deciding what experience to talk about was challenging because I have already experienced so much in my seventeen years of being alive from dislocating my hip when I was three, to seeing my grandfather die in front of my eyes, from almost tripping off of the trail on the Grand Canyon, to meeting band members at an airport. Writing this essay brought me many challenges, I did not know what topic to choose, I had no
Finally, the experienced you faced in life are the only ones who make you improve in life. These three experiences have made me more powerful, more secure of my self. Now I’m in 12th grade and I have learn more and a better English, is not perfect, but, I understand more then before, and I can write better then in 8th and 9th grade, everything thanks to the friends who help me out, the teachers and my motive to make it possible, ignoring all the ignorant people who always have to think on you. I have learned that in this country for be someone is important to learn and speak English, but you always have to be positive and make that come true. My goal now is to speak, read, write, and understand more by putting more of my part so I can defend my self from everything.
I always knew education would give me tools necessary to achieve my goals. Learning English was the
“Why don’t you use your locker? You’re going to have back problems before you even graduate”. These are words that are repeated to me daily, almost like clockwork. I carry my twenty-pound backpack, full of papers upon papers from my AP classes. The middle pouch of my backpack houses my book in which I get lost to distract me from my unrelenting stress. The top pouch holds several erasers, foreshadowing the mistakes I will make - and extra lead, to combat and mend these mistakes. Thick, wordy textbooks full of knowledge that has yet to become engraved in my brain, dig the straps of my backpack into my shoulders. This feeling, ironically enough, gives me relief - my potential and future success reside in my folders and on the pages of my notebooks.
It was autumn, 1992. I had graduated from elementary school and was entering the years of a student’s life that are so maladroit the Department of Education banishes the children to their own private hell – middle school. Like most students my age, popularity amongst my peers was seemingly the most important goal in my life. A goal that was not easily reached by a chubby kid like myself. Having eyeglasses and only a handful of friends that crossed over from elementary school, I found myself searching for an opportunity to be recognized by the mass herd of my fellow puberty-stricken peers. While it was only a short time before that opportunity presented itself, the resulting effects would be felt nearly 20 years later.
I was only one year old at the time, and as I grew up, things were not easy for me in school. My parent and siblings were not yet fully fluent in English, and I had no one to help me complete my assignments. Eventually, I was held back in kindergarten. Nevertheless, this did not stop me from bettering myself. I read lots of book, and quickly became fluent. I had the best handwriting and was the most artistic. I won lots of awards throughout elementary school and
We had strolled along for 150 yards before a car turned into the road. We panicked and ran to the other side of the road to hide behind the cars. Sometimes, it seems, when you are surprised, your instincts take over and you hide, even when you otherwise might have stood there and let them see. We crouched behind a car, me in front of Natasha, both of us facing toward the sound of the approaching car. I was crouched down so my ass was resting on my heels, my knees spread and my hands on the sidewalk in front of me, as though I were playing leapfrog. Natasha was crouched down right behind me, her right hand resting on my back, her left hand steadying herself on the car.
I remember the first day of my English class like it was yesterday. Term one just started and the class is waiting for the teacher to come. I remember looking down and seeing someone with sandals and was kind of confused, but brushed it off. I felt like every single teacher was going to leave, just like the first year at Jackson Preparatory and Early College. I found myself in a place where I didn’t know if I could trust teachers, because all my life I felt no need to, and didn’t find any reason to talk to them whenever I needed advice or if I had a problem. Every time I found that I liked a teacher, a couple weeks later, they just left without notice. At Jackson Preparatory and Early College, the very first year, we had a staff issue. We slowly
Mommy said, “Honey, we’re moving”. I jumped up and down in excitement. A new house, a better one I thought. We were switching from plane to plan for almost two days. I still remember when I was at Gerald R. Ford airport, looking around and it was a totally strange place that fill with strangers. I realized that I was in America, my head spinned around and my heart started to beat faster.
At the beginning of the semester it had been over six years since I had been in an English class, So naturally filled with panic and discomfort with the subject I began the class with low personal expectations. However putting forth my best effort I attempted to take everything presented to me in stride. Things that were problems to begin with were Grammar, Sounding arrogant, according to a pretest, and staying on the subject during a paper. Things that sparked my interest are peer reviews and using the meal plan. With those things being said I’d like to go into further detail about how I’ve felt about my time spent and performance.
When I first arrived to the United States at 9 years old everything was so different than what I was used to. I began by taking English As A Second Language (ESL) classes for about two years, and then I got to move on to the next stage. It was really hard for me at first since I always had to ask someone to translate everything that the teacher was saying. The days passed and I began to learn and understand this new language in an unimaginable way. Learning English so fast made me proud of myself, which motivated me to do my best in school to recover the grades that I had when I was in Puerto Rico. Learning English was the transitional time in my life because it helped me from childhood to adulthood by getting my confidence back up to be able to accomplish all of my goals.
“Bye, Ray.” Realizing she held her breath, she exhaled. Now, what? She could log in and check for any new work orders. That would occupy her time for a little while. She walked into the study and logged into the company site. There were three work orders in the queue. These would take up the rest of the afternoon.
Everything for a year had been leading up to this point and here I was in the middle of the happiest place on earth in tears because my friends had abandoned me in the middle of Disney on the senior trip.
Throughout my childhood, the idea of having a college education was greatly stressed. As a result, it was my duty as the next generational child, to excel in my studies and achieve a life of prosperity and success. Learning became the basic foundation of my growth. Therefore, my youth was overtaken by many hours spent reading and writing what was known to be correct "Standard" English. I first found this to be a great shortcoming, but as I grew older, I began to realize the many rewards acquired by having the ability to be literate.
“Good English, well spoken and well written, will open more doors than a college degree. Bad English will slam doors you didn’t even know existed.” by William Raspberry. It is true that without English we will be lost in our lives and I am really thankful that I learned some good things in English class. For example, during the summer every sophomore had to read “The Secret Life of Bees” because we would be test about the book. With that say so, I had to read and I honestly don’t read books often because I am a picky reader, but this particular book got my attention. And it is not because it is for grade, I read it and I enjoyed it so much that I want to keep reading it. The story well detailed and I learned new words, that became my strong resource of knowledge. Also, I learned that life