Narrative Essay
Narrative Essay
First Grade I didn’t realize my specialness at the time, even though I didn’t know much English the first day of school there. All the kids and teachers were nice to me and well-mannered with good intentions, but they could clearly see how I was an outsider, and how I was different from them. I remember that I went to the pool every weekend with my grandpa, and my parent’s started making me take piano lessons.
Second Grade I was thrown into a completely new environment with a noticeably cooler climate. School was very easy, and I also didn’t listen to the teacher sometimes because I thought that my way was better. That earned me some time facing a corner or sitting away from the class during Circle Time (Circle Time is like Story Time, except you sit in a Circular Ring.)
I still didn’t realize that I was an outsider and the only person who wasn’t born in America in my entire class. Everybody seemed to treat me the same way, especially the children.
Third Grade This year, I switched schools once again. I was getting used to being the new kid by now, not that anyone ever treated me differently. The kids treated me equally, although I’m sure that in the back of the teacher’s minds, they always saw me as different for my ethnicity. School was a little more difficult than my old one, and the classes seemed to be covering topics that I didn’t learn at home already. I often looked at the fifth graders and thought; Wow, those people sure are all grown up.
Fourth Grade I was in the same Elementary school once again. This is my first memory of testing, and the teachers were often slacking, allowing students to easily cheat or talk on tests. I began to become interested, or at least good in classes like Math and Science. The other kids still treated me the same, and we played together often in an after school program that parents would sign their kids up for since they had to keep on working.
Fifth Grade I had little to no realization that
First Grade I didn’t realize my specialness at the time, even though I didn’t know much English the first day of school there. All the kids and teachers were nice to me and well-mannered with good intentions, but they could clearly see how I was an outsider, and how I was different from them. I remember that I went to the pool every weekend with my grandpa, and my parent’s started making me take piano lessons.
Second Grade I was thrown into a completely new environment with a noticeably cooler climate. School was very easy, and I also didn’t listen to the teacher sometimes because I thought that my way was better. That earned me some time facing a corner or sitting away from the class during Circle Time (Circle Time is like Story Time, except you sit in a Circular Ring.)
I still didn’t realize that I was an outsider and the only person who wasn’t born in America in my entire class. Everybody seemed to treat me the same way, especially the children.
Third Grade This year, I switched schools once again. I was getting used to being the new kid by now, not that anyone ever treated me differently. The kids treated me equally, although I’m sure that in the back of the teacher’s minds, they always saw me as different for my ethnicity. School was a little more difficult than my old one, and the classes seemed to be covering topics that I didn’t learn at home already. I often looked at the fifth graders and thought; Wow, those people sure are all grown up.
Fourth Grade I was in the same Elementary school once again. This is my first memory of testing, and the teachers were often slacking, allowing students to easily cheat or talk on tests. I began to become interested, or at least good in classes like Math and Science. The other kids still treated me the same, and we played together often in an after school program that parents would sign their kids up for since they had to keep on working.
Fifth Grade I had little to no realization that