Personal Narrative: Stony Brook Elementary School

On April 08, 2016, I arrived to my designated school, Cypress Point Elementary School. Upon my arrival to Cypress Point Elementary School, I went to the main office of the school to see the assistant principal, Mrs. Dewitt. She could not make it to school on time, due to her having car troubles. The secretary told me she would notify her that I arrived and to set me. As I waited for Mrs. Dewitt, I noticed quite a few students having to call home due to violating the school dress code. Mainly it was more girls violating the dress code than boys. I am assuming from what I saw, the children only wore clothes that they saw the adults wore, or whatever their parents picked out for them. During this time, I noticed a little Asian or Hispanic boy being brought to school but he was supposed to be at home due to suspension. The secretary asked him “Why are you at school?” This young man told the secretary that his mother brought him to school. The secretary informed him that he needs to call his mother so that she

My eyes repeatedly peered to the stands which had a crowd of at least four hundred students eagerly waiting as we were warming up. Observing the crowd I noticed the left side of the field was full of students in orange Parkview High School shirts while to my right students were in purple Brookwood High School shirts. It was the Lacrosse Region Championships between Parkview, the school I played for, and, Brookwood High School. Both of our schools were ranked top ten for biggest rivalries, we knew it would be a fight to win the most significant game for us.

Vehemently, I threw my myself on the bed, covered my head with pillows and screamed in pain and agony.Like a pack of wild, hungry ferocious wolves, the thoughts began to commence and every second they got louder. Like paws,every sentence clawed at my brain,every thought pierced my mind in agony,and my body began to shake. The shivers started from the tip of my fingers and cascaded straight down my gut, my body shook, and I screamed

All I could see was red. I had an enormous headache. My eyes felt as if they had weights on them. It almost felt as if someone else was taking over me. I could only stand there—in immense pain— watching, as my limbs moved on their own will.

It was a typical normal day during sophomore year as I and Kevin were normally having a conversation in the hallways of Neuqua Valley High School during a five minute passing period after class. After walking from the d-wing to the b-wing we just happened to look down at the ground and for a moment we were shocked of what we had found and couldn’t believe our eyes there were three one hundred dollar bills just lying there for the taking so I picked it up and looked at it and we took it for our taking because who wouldn’t like to find three hundred dollars I looked at kevin and said “ We need to get to class, but let’s meet up after school and split the money”. I held on to the money for the time being or at least after class. We met after class

Being in my third year of Bronx River high school I’ve had the opportunity to be apart of PGC, Peer Group Connection. Our main goal in the organization is to help new freshmen in our school to feel comfortable and safe to open up about any problems going on in school or at home. Recently in the Bronx, there has been a tragic stabbing at a local high school called “Urban Assembly School for Wildlife Conservation”. As a result “Matthew McCree and 16 year old Ariane Laboy were stabbed allegedly at the hands of 18-year-old classmate Abel Cedeno”. Myself and other PGC member facilitated group circle within 45 minutes discussing incidents of violence, both locally and across the country while asking essential questions on how we as students can help

When I lived in North Carolina in 2012, I lived in a small school within a tight nit community. From day one I felt as though I didn’t belong, and the ones who made me feel most out of place were my teachers. My teachers told me to leave and go back to Maryland because if i stay I would fail. I couldn’t believe teachers would say that I was so shocked. My teachers rarely attempted to help me with my work as if I was unteachable because I didn’t learn as fast as everyone else.

Little Falls Community Schools have taught me so much knowledge in my thirteen years. I thought I knew a lot of information when I entered the high school, but I guess I was wrong. These past four years I have learned so much material from my teachers. Four years ago, I thought economics only dealt with money and that calculus would be really hard. Turns out, economics is not just about money but also about externalities and market structures; however, calculus is still hard. I have absorbed many different kinds of knowledge in my four years at Little Falls Community High School.

My mind was going one thousand miles per hour, those words haunting my head. Hot tears flowed down my face as the words sunk in. I slumped in my seat feeling exhausted and too cold for this warm house. My father’s arms reached for me, trying to comfort me. He wouldn’t understand the mental loss that was turning into physical pain. My chest heaved for air, trying to get this drowning feeling out of these thoughts that envelope me bringing a soft cloak of anxiety. “Not again, please.”

Despite the fact that I was too young to remember anything that I occurred on that day, going to Stuyvesant High School, I’ve heard many personal stories from alumnus and teachers. Every year on September 11th, our school would have a moment of silence for the people that suffered in this tragic incident, for the innocent people in the building, for the courageous people who tried to help out. In our school newspaper, “The Spectator”, there was this article describing the franticness and the anxiety that the student and faculty felt that day. I’ve imagined myself in this situation and I often don’t know how I would’ve reacted. There is always this sense of unsettling feeling inside of me whenever I think of it. I want to volunteer at the 9/11

Eyes struggled to open, the world around me blurry, dark, spinning. “Danny, Danny, are you alright?” I heard my mother ask frantically. Confused, startled, feeling like someone was trying to hammer a nail through my head, a warm and sticky fluid running down the side of my face, my eyes gradually converging on my surroundings.

The months went by in a blink of an eye, and it was the last week of school. My classes for the rest of the week, we're watching a movie and eating pizza ,but only people who had a good

It started with a chill, each vertebrae vibrating one by one up my spine. Then the heat, my face flush and palms clammy. I could never keep up with my breathing, for it seemed as though each time I breathed out, I needed more air almost immediately. Soon, my mind was flooded with unsettling images, a new one appearing nearly every second, each worse than the last. Everything that I found comfort in was now an enemy. When will this end? My body could not keep up with the trembles and I could not resist the urge to scream. Was this room always so small? My eyes grew indecisive, darting across the room, until the capillaries within them bulged so greatly that I clenched my eyelids shut. Then, a long, deep breath.

As my car climbed the hill, my heart sunk into my stomach. I parked as far away from my friends as I could and quickly exited the car, not once looking at them. Now it was every man for himself. Emerging into the open air, I suddenly became aware of myself. I could feel my puffy, blood-shot eyes. My palms became slimy. My fingers clinched into a fist and my nails dug into my skin. My sight blurred and my tunnel of vision tried to focus on the front door. Every step seemed more awkward than the last. Eyes pierced me from all sides. I felt naked. My body trembled like a sheep in the midst of wolves.

The clock seemed frozen. As if time stopped solely to torture me. Possibly two minutes had passed and I could already feel the heat. It took every part of me to leave my arm still. Not only was my arm feeling agitated, but I simply couldn’t refrain from the tapping of my foot. With every eager spark in my body, I told myself to resist the overwhelming urge to itch. It was for the greater good, but the sting of it only gnawed at every nerve. The minute hand stood still at a halt. I could only helplessly ponder the outcome and hope that for my sake it was good., praying I also prayed that this exasperating wait would be worth it.