Boarding School
Amber Johnson
Josette Arvizu
Writing 101
Narrative Essay
12 September 2009
First Days At Boarding School This was the fist time I flew in a plane and I was so sure I was going to die. I imagined the planes engines suddenly breaking down and then slowly we plummeted down to certain death. “Excuse me miss, would you like something to drink?” the flight attendant asked me. I must have looked worse then I thought because she said it in a calm soothing way sort of like she was trying to talk someone out of jumping off the side of a twenty story building. I looked at her and shook my head from side to side, closed my eyes and concentrated on not looking out the window. I would think myself to be a brave person, but when that plane left the ground I was praying to God like no other has prayed to God ever before. I must have said like twenty Hail Mary’s before my heart got down to it’s regular beat, a normal seventy beats per minute. After a long two hours and eleven minutes relief washed over me as I heard someone on the overhead say were landing in Portland, Oregon. I liked the fact that I finally had the experience of a plane ride, even though it was a terrifying one. The thing that irritated me was that this plane ride would have to be the one that was taking me to prison or at least I thought of it as one. I was sentenced to spend a whole year at Chemawa Indian Boarding School. That meant I would have to spend a whole year away from my family, away from my friends, a whole year away from everything I knew. I was being forced to live in a place I have never been, with a bunch of people I have never met. After a long day of traveling one thousand miles from Tucson, Arizona to Salem, Oregon, I was finally settled in my room. It was nicer then I expected it to be, no bars on the windows at least. As I first entered the room there were closets to the right, a bathroom, which I now shared with three other girls, to the left. At the end of the short hallway it
Josette Arvizu
Writing 101
Narrative Essay
12 September 2009
First Days At Boarding School This was the fist time I flew in a plane and I was so sure I was going to die. I imagined the planes engines suddenly breaking down and then slowly we plummeted down to certain death. “Excuse me miss, would you like something to drink?” the flight attendant asked me. I must have looked worse then I thought because she said it in a calm soothing way sort of like she was trying to talk someone out of jumping off the side of a twenty story building. I looked at her and shook my head from side to side, closed my eyes and concentrated on not looking out the window. I would think myself to be a brave person, but when that plane left the ground I was praying to God like no other has prayed to God ever before. I must have said like twenty Hail Mary’s before my heart got down to it’s regular beat, a normal seventy beats per minute. After a long two hours and eleven minutes relief washed over me as I heard someone on the overhead say were landing in Portland, Oregon. I liked the fact that I finally had the experience of a plane ride, even though it was a terrifying one. The thing that irritated me was that this plane ride would have to be the one that was taking me to prison or at least I thought of it as one. I was sentenced to spend a whole year at Chemawa Indian Boarding School. That meant I would have to spend a whole year away from my family, away from my friends, a whole year away from everything I knew. I was being forced to live in a place I have never been, with a bunch of people I have never met. After a long day of traveling one thousand miles from Tucson, Arizona to Salem, Oregon, I was finally settled in my room. It was nicer then I expected it to be, no bars on the windows at least. As I first entered the room there were closets to the right, a bathroom, which I now shared with three other girls, to the left. At the end of the short hallway it