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    pair of skis all morning. I had progressed fast enough throughout the day that I had built up a false sense of confidence‚ as it was only my first day of skiing. Confidence that was short lived when faced with the biggest challenge yet‚ an intermediate level ski run that required a controlled precision I had not yet developed. Down the slope I went quickly accelerating to a blaring speed‚ I rounded the first turn and could feel my legs struggling to keep up with the pace at which I was proceeding.

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    Tho Nguyen English 2/26/2013 Narrative Essay: Final Draft My First Day Fright Have you ever experience a moment where you have no idea where you are‚ and what you would have done in that particular moment? Well I have‚ and here is my story. It all started in late August of 2009‚ when millions of children across the country were looking forward to their first day of school. For me‚ I was not looking forward to start my first year of High School. I still had the middle school mentality. I was

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    Thinking back to my freshman year at Crandall High School‚ the first thing that comes to my mind is my first day. I walked in the door‚ only to be breath taken of how big the school was. I remember thinking to myself I might as well make myself comfortable here. This is where I will be spending my next four years. I tried out for the Gold Dusters and I made the teams. I worked really hard on all of my school work and I hoped to make my parents proud. When I got into Drill Team I thought it

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    knew that my mother loved me. I was born in a single parent family and I had never get the paternal love. Therefore‚ my mother was responsibility to support and rear the whole family through thick and thin. In order to bringing me up well‚ she worked very hard as she was taking three jobs in a day to earn a crust and this made her to leave early and returned late day after day. Having no time to keep an eye on me‚ my grandmother was managed take care of me and so I was the apple of my grandmother’s

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    Essay 1:Remembering The Day I Learned To Ride My Bicycle I must have been seven or eight years old when I rode my first bicycle‚ and the day I learned to ride my bike is very memorable to me. It was a bright warm afternoon and the perfect summer day; school vacation time‚ kids playing‚ sun shining‚ birds chirping. Everyone seemed to be enjoying the afternoon. The kids in my neighborhood were running around playing fun games. I was in my back yard with my two sisters and my little brother. We were

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    woke up from my slumber and got ready for school. Today was my first day of Sophomore year. I was no stranger to the curriculum‚ and I was familiar with most of my teachers. I already had a set friend group‚ surely‚ no problems would arise. I did my usual morning routine and got into my car. Driving along Main Street‚ my mom talked about how much I needed. She said I needed to improve this year‚ to try and do better than last year. We arrived to the front of the school‚ and I said my goodbyes. Walking

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    Around four months ago‚ my parents‚ sister‚ and I became U.S citizens. When I ascertained that I had become a citizen‚ I recalled a few memories from my first day in the U.S until April 2017. The event that popped out most in my memory was my first day of school in this country. I remember the time when I woke up on this chilly day of February 2012 and started to shiver as I got out of my bed. The weather of Edison was way colder than I had ever experienced in my life. I took a shower so I could

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    2014‚ my life completely changed when I graduated from St. John the Evangelist Parish School. The two high schools that accepted me were Gonzaga College High School and Dematha Catholic High School. The people I knew my whole life we’re going to schools such as Dematha. It all came down to me to either go to the schools in which most of the people I knew were going or experience something new which I have never done before. The decision that I made shaped the person who I am today. During my shadow

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    For my third poem of the semester‚ I wrote one entitled “Back in My Day”. This poem was my manifesto about America and was inspired by the way I view American is now‚ how we became increasingly afraid of diversity‚ and the phrase “back in my day”. The one work that could be said to have influenced this piece would have to be Tony Hoagland’s “America”. I say that as it was a critical view of America and was also a product/inside look of how it was in that general time. Speaking of critical views

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    expect your first day at a new college. You never quite know the people you’ll meet‚ or the overall vibe of the other students. I came to National Park College as a 28 year old. Recognizing that I’d more than likely be one of the oldest students in my classes‚ I didn’t really know how or if I would relate to the younger students (mostly 18 to 22 year olds). Would there be any commonality between myself and students around a decade younger? I’d soon find out. The first day of my Composition II class

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