My First Day Of School

The fresh morning air was cool against my face. Father had been gone for a while now, he had been called by his work for some “serious business.” As my sister Aliah, and I played in the pond by our 2 story house, we heard a faint muttering of Father’s pick-up.

1.Contact with members of the lower castes always reminded him painfully of this physical inadequacy

As we approached the living room I could see my dad. He stood with his hand on his forehead, he rocked back and forth and his eyes appeared red as he mumbled something repeatedly, looking slightly upwards. My grandmother sat in my mom 's big white chair that was just in view of the dark hallway. She turned her head looking directly at me; her eyes looked kind and soft as she placed her hand gently near her heart before standing up and walking towards. Our walk quickly came to a halt as we noticed she was approaching us.

On a stormy Monday morning, a girl wakes up and barely drags herself out of bed and forces her small feet across the hallway and into the bathroom. The girl steps on top of her step stool and stares back at the mirror. With tired eyes she stares at the dark skin, dark eyes, and dark cornrows covered with her favorite colorful hair beads, looking back at her. She smiles at her rainbow colored hair and shakes her head with a giggle as she hears the beads shake around, going about her morning routine as usual. She brushes her teeth with her Disney princess toothbrush, showers, gets dressed and gets ready for another day.

the room a heard the room door shut. I sat up and thought to myself what should I

It was that gut-wrenching feeling like there was something stuck in your throat, something itching to come out. It felt as if I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t look anyone in the eye I felt so shameful. Something was weighing so heavily on my tongue and kept appearing in my mind. That thing was the truth.

“Oh of course, being late to class is always a pleasure” I kept telling myself as I made way down the maze of hallways to finally find my psychology class. Walking in I quickly looked for a place to sit and I found an empty seat in the front corner of the room. The seat was by the window, which I knew, that would come in handy if I thought the class was boring, plus it helped that nobody was sitting there except for one person. Once I placed my bag down and got myself situated, I suddenly recognized the boy sitting beside me. My anxiety took over my body and tension in the room grew thick as he turned to face me and saw the girl who had once broken his heart.

Everyone goes through hard times in school. It can vary from reading to writing, math to science, or simply just interacting with the people that are in class. In this instance, reading and writing were not strong points for me before third grade and didn’t get much better as the year went along. The teacher that I had was a terrible teacher; she gave me absolutely no help and handed me bad grades without clear reasoning. In fact, I realized how much she hated me, but to this day, I will never know why. That year made me learn being a good student in class, participating and asking questions frequently are rude habits to have in the classroom. Since the teacher and I did not see eye to eye, this made weak points such as reading and writing

“Lub dub lub dub lub dub” That was the sound of my heart pounding out of my chest at 8 O’clock in the morning of September 6th. This was not just another Orthodox day. This unholy day signified the end of summer and the beginning of students despondency: School. I laid my right hand firmly on my chest, in efforts of stopping my alarming heart beat from waking up my cousin that was gracefully sleeping just 7 foot away. I tried in vain to imagine jubilant experiences at American Public schools, which I had obtained from books to make me feel less nervous. I held on to books by Maya Angelou, Harper Lee, and other great authors to familiarize myself with the complex American culture.

Since September, my AP Language experience has drastically changed paths many times. This class has challenged me mentally, yet is not the hardest and most challenging thing I have ever done. I came into the year, and the class, with a relatively open-mind, but majorly underestimated my writing abilities. Since that ill-fated September day, the first day of school, I have gained an exceptional amount of confidence when it comes to my writing abilities. Needless to say, I definitely feel challenged this year, which was much overdue. It was an adjustment from just being able to whip up an essay up from nothing, to having to critically think about what I was writing. This year, has definitely pushed me as a writer, and I feel as though I have gained a vast repertoire of writing strategies. Overall, I would rank the class at a medium level of difficulty, as I do not find it easy, but it is also not impossible. In terms of overall experiences, I am beyond satisfied with my growth and the time that is devoted to developing our skills. I was elated beyond belief when I started the year out at a 6/9, because I had doubted my abilities and did not think that was remotely achievable. Additionally, the amount of time and practice that we do to develop and maintain new skills is phenomenal, because it allows me to use all the new techniques in my everyday writing.

It felt like it would be a normal day. I woke up hearing the sweet sound of birds chirping outside my bedroom window. It was my third day of kindergarten and I couldn’t have been more excited. I pushed aside my pink chevron covers and hopped out of bed. My mom dressed me in my favorite purple skirt with white polka dots, and a white shirt that said “SPARKLE” in big, bold, glittery purple letters. My hair was in two french braids with a purple bow at the bottom of each. My dad gave me colorful fruit loops with milk for breakfast and a small cup of sweet orange juice. I quickly swallowed it all up because I was so excited for school today and was yelling, “Daddy let’s go! It’s show and tell today! Come on I can’t be late!” Today we brought in our favorite things to school, and I decided to bring in my favorite color balloon. Dad giggled saying, “Abby, I’m almost ready, let me finish up my breakfast then we will be on our way!” I grabbed my balloon and ran outside. He finished while I was already waiting in the car. He opened my door, buckled me in my pink car seat, and then started up the car. The car ride was full of laughter, smiles, singing songs, and I enjoyed every minute of it.

The morning of my first day of school was warm and quiet...until I got to school. The day that my parents tried to send me to the vile place, known as Jasper Preschool, was a nightmare. My dad and I shared an unbreakable unity. I loved spending my care-free days with him.  There was no way I wanted to be taken away from my loving family--even seven gruesome hours. So, preschool didn’t even stand a chance, in fact, I wasn’t even there a week.   My parents ended up waiting another year, where they put me into kindergarten with Ms. Hankins. She was nice, but she was nothing like Dad.  School was horrible up until the third grade with Ms. Hudson, where I began to learn the true meaning of school.

The first day of school, running in school with tears in my eyes, shredded with a wound in my heart because of my parents, dropping me off at school and leave me all alone. It was only me sitting at the corner of the entry door, all I see is strangers, run around screaming, jumping, and chasing playing with balls. Then, I started to wonder around the school, as happy as I was when I see there are foods. I lowered my backpack, reach for a couple of bucks which my mom gave me in the morning if I want to buy something to eat or drink. Afterward, I continue walking.

A bright but cold morning, January in 2014, I woke up early, I jumped and smiled because it was my first day of school. First I went to take a shower; I thought, “What I would do in school today, who will be my teachers". Then I walked to the bus stop, people looked at me like I'm not from this planet. I sat on a tree trunk waiting for the bus. The bus arrived after 15 minutes, I aboard the bus. The driver was a woman she was wearing a black shirt and brown pants. She told me “ Do you have the paper that shows that you have permission to go to school in a school bus” I stared at her and said “ No English”. A very good girl who was blonde hair translated into Spanish what the woman was telling me, "thank you" I said to her. Finally, I gave the paper to the bus driver. I sat down in the first row my legs were shaking.

The first day of high school was crazy but also fun. That summer I was able to work a summer job, so that year I was able to dress myself exactly how I wanted. When I tell you i spent every last cent on school clothes as soon I got my paycheck It was gone. Then my friend and I were both working so we were having fun all summer . So the first day of school comes around, I was like the hood Christopher Columbus. I had to show everybody where there class was at because I worked there for the summer so I knew were all the classes were.