My Experience At High School

I remember the first day I started high school I was so nervous. As a kid I always remember I would had an anxiety problem for almost every little thing. I wake ever morning nauseated, even though there was nothing to worry about because I mean after all it was just school. I remember thinking damn I just got out of middle school here goes another 4 long school years. But what I didn’t know was that those years would go by so fast. After all like everyone says, a lot happens in 4years. On my first day everything was amazing. I had made new friends, so far I liked all my teachers, and I got into this Culinary Arts class that I didn’t even know I liked. I learned so much in Culinary, Everyday I would go in excited to see what I would learn the next.it amazed me so much I even started to help my mom cook, I learned so much in so little so that’s when I discovered I had a passion for learning how to cook and for food. I can honestly say I’m so glad I got into that class because now I know how to cook a little bit of Italian thanks to my culinary class and to wonderful godfather who is an excellent chef in New York City. I learn a lot from my mother who I’m forever thankful I just don’t tell her as much. Thanks to her I learn how to cook almost all kind of Mexican food, I learn how to be a little more responsible, I got into finishing my Diploma.

A tradition at my high school for the senior class is choosing a city to spend a few days in before graduation. My class chose to go to Baltimore, Maryland. We had an action packed four days going to Adventure Park USA, Six Flags, The National Aquarium, a Baltimore Orioles game, The Smithsonian Zoo, and shopped around downtown Baltimore. I became close with classmates I rarely talked with throughout high school and saw a different side of them than what I had seen in the classrooms. My small circle of friends became even closer over the course of the week both individually and spiritually. My senior class trip to Baltimore was a memorable trip, a little chaotic, but it brought us closer together.

4th grade was a filled with chaos. Even if I try to remember one moment, I can only pull out blurry images. But out of all of these foggy memories, one stands above all. Three years back, I’m standing in front of the whole class; face as red like blood as everyone gawks and laughs. How I got into this situation is a long story. Very little did I know, it would alter my singing ‘career’.

Why am I still here? There's no point in learning stupid facts and formulas. I’m sketching onto a generic college brochure. I hate being in this seminar. I don’t even want to go to college. I mean it’s pretty much pointless for an artist to attend university. Thankfully it’s easy to tune out the boring monotone voices surrounding me. High school is dragging on. I am a senior this year, but it feels like an eternity until graduation.

Me, a student attending a normal day of boring school, or so I thought. This all started with a teacher named Mrs.Reed that many students disliked due to past experiences. Stories have lingered around the school of her locking kids in her closet for bad behavior which most have not yet to been seen since. She also smacks the kids with rulers if they fail to complete their work on time. After hearing all the rumors that people murmured about Mrs.Reed I prayed that I would never have to have that teacher throughout my high school education. So far I’ve made it through a year of highschool successfully. The last thing I need is a teacher like Mrs.Reed to come along and ruin my overall thought of highschool. So, it was the first day of a new semester and the bell to first just had rung. I needed to look at my schedule to see what class I had and where. I pulled the schedule out of my back pocket to look down and see the death of me, Mrs. Reed for HIstory, Room 306. Thoughts of terror and torture drained through my mind unable to even move my feet to class. The thoughts in my head things like “am I going to be the next victim of her known history of holding kids hostage in her closet?” I inched my way down the hallway classroom 304 passed then 305 passed and then 306 the classroom of doom. I stand in the doorway with trembling knees. I took a big gulp and made my way into the class head down trying to navigate the location of my desk. Finally, finding my desk I slipped into it

In the late months of the two-thousand and fourteen first semester, I had begun my dangerous excursion into a precarious realm of stress and irritation to a juvenile network of literacy and instruction. I was beginning my first year of high school, which was still a new territory for me. I had previously attended at Howe middle school, but I was not prepared for high school. At my high school, the building is different than any other building on the campus. The high school building is on one continuous slab of the concrete foundation, but there is a gap in between the two halves of the building. In this gap, there is a connecting concrete flooring that is level with the two previous halves’ floors. The Howe students, faculty and I called this structure the “breezeway.” During a hot school day, the wind tunneled through the breezeway and brush across me like an ocean of cool air. Of all the memories in the breezeway at my high school, I can remember one moment where I saw something that changed my outlook on what I wanted to become.

At first there is nothing, it is dark. The only visible lights are the blue glows emitted from the work bulbs, and a small yellow line of light seeping in from under the grand curtain. I am in a frozen scene, a life, a story that is not my own. It is as if all the people around me turned to stone, and there I stood among them trying not to shake. The grand drape begins to squeak as it slowly glides open. For a moment the faces in the crowd looking up at me are visible, and the spotlights come on. Breaking the silence, the frozen statues and I begin to blink and come to life. This is how every performance began in the theatre productions I participated in at my high school. Theatre gave me an outlet to escape reality while creating a beautiful piece of art amongst newly blossoming friendships.

During the first two years of my high school career, I experienced intolerable levels of hardship which I eventually vanquished and was able to preside over. In case It doesn’t become evident, I have a “type a” personality which I’ve been more than conscious of since my middle school days. The feeling of unease that tormented me all throughout middle and half of my high school years when I wasn’t excelling further more than I was in my previous years. Personal goals, and ambitions, that I wasn’t quite living up to, it raged me, It wasn’t who I was, I was better than that. I always thought I’d be destined for greater things, I never imagined it’d come with sacrifices and failures, at least not like mine. It wasn’t until I began high school when I realized how different things were and it wouldn’t be your ordinary middle school level material.

In the summer of 2013, I received an email that changed my life forever. It was up to me to accept or decline the new journey that allowed me to be accepted into Edgecombe Early College High School. I decided to accept this new journey that was filled with 5 years of butterflies, hardships, new opportunities and self improvement.

As I opened my eyes and allowed my posture to relax, I let out a long, deep breath. The Buddhist monk conducting the religious ritual made his closing remarks, and I was sent out of the temple, back into the sweltering heat of summer in Virginia. Because a scout is reverent, it was expected of me by my troop that I attend one religious ceremony during my time at the National Scout Jamboree. Leading up to the service, my 13 year old self was especially concerned that the experience would be long, boring, and uneventful. “Why should I have to sit in silence when I could be rock climbing or mountain biking?” I thought. After the ceremony, however, I was at peace. I found that I thoroughly enjoyed the experience. By the time my troop and I left the Jamboree, the culmination of my adventures started to awaken something within me.

My eyes squinted as I gazed towards the massive building that for the next four years would be my success, demise, and most importantly, my high school. As I strut to the tall glass doors, I felt so prepared, confident even. Armed with a couple of best friends, sufficient intelligence, and adequate athleticism, I was positive that everything would go perfectly. After all, high school was the place of beginnings, a place where my friends and I would battle through together; high school wasn’t the place where everything would fall apart.

When I first enrolled high school, I was following the current I didn’t have a plan for college or understand what I was going to do with my life. I had a challenging background when it came to academics; my scores were always “alright” but were never enough for Advance Placement courses. Constantly schoolteachers belittled me believing I wasn’t meant for learning. After hearing this I wanted to create a structured path that I could be proud of. I thought I wasn’t going anywhere in life until I challenged myself academically for a better future.

In the summer vacation after sixth grade, I was ecstatic to become a student at Ball Junior High School. I wanted to meet new people, participate in extracurricular activities, and further my education. What I most desired was having a fresh start to school. After seven years of elementary school, everyone knew me as Angela, the so-called weird kid. Sometimes, the students would make fun of my voice, imagination, and sensitivity. No one at my school wanted to be friends with me. Even when a new student would transfer to the school, I would introduce myself in an attempt to befriend them. Word would get out and they did the same as the other students. As a result of that, I wanted to make new friends in junior high.

My first semester of college was preceded by doubts and anxiety, filled with opportunities and experiences, and followed by anticipation. This semester has been a amazing initial introduction into college life, I met some great people, got a job I like, attended a leadership retreat, got a internship, learned a lot, won tons of free stuff, gained independence, and maintained a high GPA. However, the best experience of this semester was finally accepting and enjoying the decision I made to attend UT Dallas. I remember during the Global Leadership Retreat we all decided to go down to the lake, and we sat on the pier in silence just being present and enjoying the opportunity. Lake Travis is a staple of my hometown of Austin, and I have never gotten to chance to sit back and enjoy it. This juxtaposition affirming that perhaps, for the time, this is where I am supposed to be. It was not just this one event in particular but rather a culminating sigh of relief when realizing that I made the right decision, I deserve to be here, and I a strong student.

Being the eldest of three children I am the guinea pig of the family.. (ellipses) Being the first to start school, to begin middle school, and enter into high school. Not having an older sibling to tell me what to expect along the way, I had to be the first to experience these things, and figure out how to handle new situations on my own. I remember being in seventh grade being terrified to begin school at the high school. Riverside, at the time, seemed much larger than Lamuth and had many more students, especially older and taller kids, being a bit intimidating to my, once then, barely five-foot self. (imagery) I did not think I would have enough time to get between classes before the bell rang, as crossing over from John R. to Riverside is a long walk with many kids walking at a very slow pace. I was also very nervous that I would get lost or end up in the wrong class.