Personal Narrative: My Jr High Choir Classroom

My Jr High choir teacher, Mrs. Bradbury, was the most challenging teacher I have ever had. She would never cut the choir a break, and never stopped pushing us to be our best; “I can’t” was not acceptable to her. I hated her with every fiber of my being, and every time she spoke all I wanted to do was sew her lips together. It wasn’t until the beginning of ninth grade when I realized she was amazing. Once I let my guard down, we instantly connected. Recognizing how much I loved to sing and becoming one of the top singers in my choir was thanks to her. I started working for hours every day on my songs, staying late after class for help, and going to voice lessons. I excelled exponentially and Mrs. Bradbury noticed it. In March of my ninth grade year, I got a letter addressed to me in the mail; it was in a big manila folder and had a very formal sticker with my name on it. I was extremely nervous to open it; I thought I had done something wrong even though I couldn’t fathom what. Slowly, I pinched the two metal tabs together to fit through the tiny hole in the flap of the envelope; I reached inside and slid out a fancy cream paper. It had gold designs around the edge, a big gold seal saying “Utah Ambassadors”, and my name in bold print right in the middle of
My phone was glued to my hand by the sweat of my hand, I held it all though the night. I had waited for this day for over a year, and I couldn’t understand what was holding me back from jumping out of my bed and leaping into the car. Dragging my feet over to my dresser, I slipped on the mandatory blue jersey polo and cringed as I saw myself in the mirror; I looked like a mess. While eating a blueberry bagel, I grabbed my carry on and suit case and headed out to the car. I could barely keep my eyes open and my stomach was filing with butterflies the closer we got to the