Personal Narrative: Going Into Middle School

From my experience, surviving middle school takes a mixture of luck, naive fearlessness, and an aggressive number of colorful plastic binders. I started my first day of fifth grade a jumbled mess of nerves, anxious about making friends and doing well in class, and inexplicably dressed head-to-toe in red, white, and blue swag my mom got when the Summer Olympics were in Atlanta. I mean, my backpack matched my shoelaces, which matched my pants and my shirt. I might have even had a hat. A hat. A precisely matching hat. That I wore all day. Needless to say, I was not a particularly cool child. I studied hard, had a core group of equally nerdy friends, and constantly worried about whether I was doing the right thing or, perhaps more accurately, becoming the right thing. Was I not studying hard enough to get into college? Or maybe studying too hard, missing out on my youth? Would I grow into my teeth one day? Would my skin eventually stop looking like greasy peanut brittle?

As I went through 1-9 grade school I finally found grit. Going to St. Mary’s during 1-6 grade school getting up at 6:30 every morning just wanting to hit the snooze button so I could get that extra hour of sleep in. After getting ready for school, I would get on the bus, three stops later we would pick up these annoying foster kids that gave me a headache every day because they would shut their mouths that I would have to push through school with. Then building up all the energy sitting in 1-2 classrooms the whole day waiting for recess so I could let it all out. Since I pushed through those challenges, I was able to move on to middle school. During my two years of middle school three out of the five days of school, I would get up at 5:30 and

When I hear the word “survival”, I think of someone who has made it through the impossible or conquered a near death experience; but that isn't all that it means. According to the the Merriam Webster dictionary, “A survivor is a person who copes well with difficulties in their life.” Moving from elementary school to middle school taught me many new characteristics such as how to be more independent, responsible, and more open to changes.

My first day of middle school was extremely difficult for me. I was nervous in my first class, I took a seat next to people that I knew in all my classes. There is no work on the first day, and the teachers basically tell you the same thing. As for lunch, I just found a friend that I used to hang out with last year, and then I found other people from my group from last year, we found a table and ate. I knew that I will like it a lot more than elementary school. In the middle I learned that I needed to work harder and become wiser. Not to let people get in my way of my education. I liked having several teachers instead of just one or teachers. I did not like sitting down in one class all day and I like to move around. I got the opportunity to have new people in each one of my classes. Finally going to middle school gave me to get a new experience. For some reason they work in middle school became easier for me instead of harder. I always thought going to a new school that the work

In Middle School, where we were still growing up as adults, we did not like following the rules. I was in 9th grade. That day the bell rang for our next class and me and my friends did not want to go to our next class right away. We waited outside the room for our next class and chilled and talked. Me and my friends were in class all day and we wanted to let go of some energy. We kept talking and if our teacher came, we would go into the class right away. Our school did not like students to hang out in the hallway because they made too much noise. We did not care, we still chilled outside the class. We talked about new shoes and what we were going to do after school. It was so much fun because I had not seen my friends since 8th grade and it was the

I walked into the loud building so scared and nervous. I couldn't believe today was the day. The day i'm finally in middle school. That day was the day that I could officially call myself a Vista Verde Middle School student. When I walked into the building the bell had rung for us to proceed to class. On my I spotted one of my very good friends, Esmeralda. After I said hi to her I walked to my first period class which is room 403 and my teacher is Ms. Blasnek.

It was a normal school day at Brookhurst Jr. High in 7th Period were my friends and I were talking and waiting for the bell to ring so we could all go home and the school day would be over. Before I left I needed to go to the bike racks to get my skateboard so I could ride it home.

There is a picture on my fridge of my two best friends and me on the last day of Kindergarten, rosy red cheeks, smiles that could light up the night on our faces, the innocence of being five years old beaming from our bright eyes. An image that might outlast our friendship, but will forever be in my mind. All through Elementary school these two remained my best friends. Our little circle of friendship slowly grew as more people started to enter our lives for different reasons and we developed small friendships that threatened to pierce the bubble of our little trio. Nevertheless, our friendship didn’t falter. I believed this was the way friendship would always be: a tight-knit group who would alway be by each other's’ sides, through thick and thin. And then came middle school.

This narrative is about my years of middle school. I look back on my kindergarten days and wonder why I didn't care if I had many friends, why I didn't care what everyone thought of me. in my first school years of elementary school, I remember instead of playing on the grass the teachers only let us children under 3rd-grade play on the concrete blacktop whereas everyone else gets to play on the grass field. if I get hit in the stomach nowadays and land on this asphalt paved concrete I try to play it off like nothing ever happened, when inside I’m screaming. I try my hardest not to let out even the faintest of grunts because of what other people will think, while my mind is fighting against me to just let it out, of course this is unlike me when I was younger, because at that age either I was too busy focusing on anything and I would just bounce back up or because I didn't care what people thought of me and I let everything out without hesitation.

Growing up, there are always those few girls in elementary, middle, and high school that are just cruel. They roam the halls picking on other people, making them feel bad because they have nothing better to do with their life. Middle school was when I first experienced the harsh and painful words of those mean girls. While in middle school their words didn’t affect me much, it may have made me think about my appearance every once in a while; but their words didn’t affect me as much as it affected my friend, my suicidal friend.

I remember when I was going to the middle school becoming a seventh grader and on the second day of school, I spotted my first love. Little did I know that he had a girlfriend. I didn’t pay her any attention because of the fact that I liked him so badly. By the way, they were on and off so I wasn’t stun nothing about her. Days were passing and I was watching him like a hawk. I didn’t know his name until one day, his homeboy came to me that morning and said, “my boy poke said wassupp?” I was blushing so hard but I played it off so I wouldn’t just throw myself out there to him. However, I said, “okay” meaning yes. He then walked away going back telling him what I said and that’s when I went to my 1st period class. While I walking there, I was thinking to myself “his nickname is poke.”

I remember the feeling of my first day of middle school clearly. I walked inside my math classroom, and was directed to the table I should be sitting at. I immediately sat down, took my supplies out, looked around, and felt sick. It was a whole new city, and I didn’t know anybody. Seeing new people absolutely frightened me. All I wanted to do was go back to Nogales with my friends who I grew up with, but obviously this was not an option. Throughout the day I saw people hanging out with their friends from elementary school, I didn’t know anybody, so I stayed alone, which I kept on doing for the next month or so.

Last week, I began my first initial year of middle school. I thought that my first day would be anything but challenging and stressful, But, it turns out that I was entirely wrong.

Starting Freshman year, I arrived to high school not knowing what was expected. I did not know what to do and I had no interest in school at all. Middle school years were rough and freshman year was too, gladly I had for giving teachers that allowed me to pass for the year. I was lost and confused, but I was fortunate to have people who cared and supported me in my times of difficulty. My parents most of all, kept insisting that I should try, that it is not hard to accomplish what many had. They kept advising me to stop living in the present and to start thinking of my future. Those words actually made me think, I noticed most of the people I surrounded with, were trapped into the impression that everything mattered at this exact moment, not

Welcome to your first day of middle school. Take a deep breath, and know that me and my friends all survived 6th grade. You might think that it is going to be really hard, and not fun but it is!