First Day of Kindergarten
As I was sitting in my new apartment unpacking all of my things, I started to reminisce about my childhood in Logansport, Indiana. I have a lot of memories from where I grew up. “Ahh I remember my first day of kindergarten like it was yesterday.” I said to myself. After all, not many people can say that their first day of kindergarten ended up with them being on black and in the principal’s office. But I unfortunately can. It was a cool foggy fall morning. I was excited to go to kindergarten I couldn’t wait to officially start school, make new friends, and meet my teacher. My hair was in braids with hair white jewelry in them. I had on a red long sleeve shirt that had a glitter heart in the middle, blue jeans, and my favorite white Jordans. I even remember what I had for breakfast that day. I had a strawberry poptart and an apple juicy.
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(She still says that everytime I enter a new grade.) “Are you excited for your first day of kindergarten?” “Yes I can’t wait!” I said with the biggest smile on my face. I couldn’t wait to start this new chapter in my life, but little did I know that kindergarten would be just the beginning of the torture that I went through at my old school. As we pulled up to the big brick building with a baby blue roof, I looked up and saw a big blue banner that read Landis Elementary School. “You ready?” My mom had asked me. “Yes!” I replied feeling like I could conquer the world. Most kids would be nervous, but I wasn’t because back then I was outgoing and loved making new
8th grade, 8th grade from the opening day to the signing of the yearbooks. This is the year of memories, goodbyes, and regrets. 8th grade and I’m still realizing that there are people in the world that would die to go to a school like this. A school where every body knows everyone’s name, respects everyone, and where violence and fighting are about as common as the Yankees missing the playoffs. When I’m done with my homework and go to bed, as the days of 8th grade wind down, summer will come and go, and I will find myself in one of those giant, scary places called high school.
My first day of kindergarten was not a happy day for me. I was scared and wanted to
Good morning teachers, faculty, administrators, family, friends, and of course students. It is a great privilege to be standing here today and representing our class on our eighth grade Class Day. Can you believe it? Four years ago, most of us walked into this school as nervous as we were the first day of school. We were the tiny fifth graders, the youngest students in this middle school, not knowing where anything was and how to navigate the school. Now, those same four years later, we’re leaving this school behind to a whole new school being just as nervous as we were when we first arrived. It has been a long four years as well as a short four years. Long because of all the tests, quizzes, finals, and projects, but short because of the lifelong friendships, the lasting memories, and the truly interesting and amazing things we learned in-between. The Abington Heights Middle School is definitely a welcoming, fun, memorable, and great school that I will never forget. These four years spent with these wonderful classmates has been an extraordinary journey with many cherishable memories.
A bead of sweat trickled across my neck like an ice-cold drop of rain running down a windowpane. I stood anxiously, juxtaposed to ten of my fifth grade classmates on a dusty six-inch high platform, each of us in our lint-free suits, as I stared forward to meet the unforgiving eyes of the students and teachers of Main Dunstable Elementary School. A steady stream of parents entered the gymnasium, and I heard chatter as parents and kids conversed noisily with each other. I felt my throat tighten and wished for the emcee, Mrs. Paradis, the principal of our school, to take up the microphone and begin the ceremony.
Everyone has his or her own first day of kindergarten experiences. Some might have been more memorable while others still trying to forget. Mine was merely an observance and evaluation period. After I gave my mother a kiss goodbye, and placed my belongings in the cubbyhole I was ready to learn, but unfortunately the majority of the other students were not. Considering one can not get too accomplished over many loud high-pitched cries, I was forced to be patient and suffer silently from boredom.
The first day of school can be exciting and adventurous for many people, but for others it may be problematic. In “The First Day” by Edward P. Jones, the girl is having her first day of school by signing up. Her mother tries to sign up at Seaton Elementary School, nonetheless she was not accepted because she was from another district. Jones argues that although this may be an unremarkable first day of school for the girl, it allowed the girl to understand the struggles of placing her in a school because of her mother’s limitations in education. Edward P. Jones employs rhetorical techniques to convey his meaning and to appeal to the readers emotions.
The first day of kindergarten we weren't exactly sure what we were in for. Some of us began to write our names and learn to read, while others ate Elmer's glue and pulled little girls' pigtails -- you know who you are.
I remember being so excited when we got the letter that said I would be in the sixth grade instead of going to the fifth grade. I had reversed a wrong that had been done to me the year before when I sat in a classroom of
The following Monday my mother taken me to the bus stop to be sent to the school. Once I boarded the bus, I immediately felt uncomfortable as I had clearly drawn attention from the group. The trip became longer that I expected because tensions had become higher as even more eyes had be drawn to where I was sitting and with every second my heart began to race faster until we reached our destination and I left the bus to go to school and there I stood at Wolf-ever Creek elementary
It was my first at Cherokee Middle School. I pulled up to the front of the school. Reluctantly, I pulled my legs to the right side of the seat and slide out of the passenger seat. My lungs automatically lifted and I took a deep breath. Sighing, I pulled out my eighth grade schedule. I glided through the doors of the building in a sea of sweaty middle schoolers. The cafeteria unfolded to my right and the main office to my left. The cafeteria
“Sameh, do you speak English?” his history teacher asked. At the first day of school in
...ave told her however, at the time I didn’t recall ever communicating with her that I have scoliosis. Another example was, I told her, "I really miss seventh grade." Her response to that was, "I thought that was a rough year for you with kids being mean?" I was so shocked that after two to three years she still remembered that.
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
It was a gloomy Tuesday despite the fact that it was late August. I had missed the first day of school because I always hated the idea of introductions and forced social situations during those times. I hated my particular school ever since I started as a freshman the
It was December 4, 2014 and it was snowing outside. I was sitting at the kitchen table doing homework. All my family was downstairs, so I was all alone. My English teacher told us to write a paper about how I am different from my classmates. I was thinking about what in my life makes me different and slowly my whole life was playing like a movie in my head. The first memory that popped into my head was my fourth birthday party. It was supposed to be the best birthday ever. My dad was going to come. It was February 24, 2002 at my birthday party. There were so many people there, but I was so focused on my dad coming, no one else seemed to matter. My cake was pink and yellow with a bicycle on it. I had a red and blue inflatable that kids were