First Day at a New School And there I was‚ standing in front of the new school I’m going to attend. My heart is racing so I asked myself‚ “Am I nervous or just excited‚ now that I’ll be at school again?” It was mixed emotions I am feeling that day. Thoughts and questions are running in my head; having an anxiety of what their first impression will be. “I hope they won’t bully me‚” “This school year is going to be exciting‚” and “I heard that the professors here are nice‚” are just some of the ideas
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The best childhood place I would have to say is Phillip Island for me and still is my favourite place. There is this church that takes people out to fun camps each year for five days which my parents‚ best friend Dion and I have gone for as long as I could remember. The place we stayed at was a two story old‚ haunted looking building‚ it had long hallway that echoed every time you made any noise‚ a massive dinning room that could fit at least one hundred and fifty people in it and it sometimes did
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I was so happy that we had a five day weekend‚ this week. I don’t know why I felt like this week went by slow. We got our first progress reports on Wednesday and I wasn’t extremely happy with my grades. Upperclassmen would always tell us that senior year would be the most relaxed year of our four high school years‚ but honestly it does not seem like it. It’s not that the subjects that are hard‚ its keeping up with every class and the assignments. The thing that i am stressed about is processing all
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My skateboard means the world to me. It is my escape from reality and a place where I don’t have to worry about school or life. It is just my friends and I hanging out and having fun like we have been for years. I have seen all of my friends and I grow from terrible skateboarders into a group of young men who all have the same thing in common and enjoy doing it. Skateboarding is not just a thing to do for us. It is a way of life and maybe for some of us a way to earn income in the future. While
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“Take away my good name‚ take away my life” This is a quote that I’m sure everyone in this room can probably relate to. We all remember our high school days‚ we wanted everyone to know our name. We wanted popularity and our reputation meant the world to us. What we do and how we act reflects directly on our name. For Shea Simmons what happened to her name was not her fault. Shea spent countless hours practicing and working on Mock Trial‚ working towards getting the scholarship from the Metropolitan
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government to acknowledge their crimes shows the disputes between hegemonic history and memory as their claim implies that memories of individuals were not enough evidences to prove such crime. However‚ memory is not just about remembering an event‚ but “it includes structures of feeling and all the ways that people with culturally specific identifications remember precisely” (Oliva-Alvarado 4). This means that the memories of these comfort women do not only include their experiences‚ but also the pain‚
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place High River‚ AB T1V 1P5 June 27‚ 2012 Dear mme Ashli‚ This year had many marking highlights and memories that I will surely treasure forever! This year in secondary was a great way to start off my middle school years! With awesome peers to do projects with and entertaining teachers‚ it was just a splendid way to start and end the school year. If I could‚ I would re-live my 7th grade!!! If that’s possible… I will not mention them all for I have too many‚ but there are three that were
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“The school Days of an Indian Girl” “The school days of an Indian girl” is a narrative essay based on life turning experience of a Native American Indian Girl. The author Zitkala ‚ was born in south Dakota in 1876.In this essay she has described how she felt humiliated and embarrassed in the beginning of the school days. Later‚ her emotion turned into revenge stage to express the frustration .According to the author she was forced to join the missionaries’ school at the age of eight along with
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The memories of my early childhood are like scattered‚ partially lost pieces of a huge mosaic. I am only five‚ and instead of sleeping late like other kids would do‚ I don’t want to stay in bed‚ don’t want to miss the mystery‚ the beauty of the world’s awakening. My older brother and cousins are up already and drag their bare feet on the wooden floor. I still can vividly picture that floor- old‚ caved in‚ coated with brown paint a thousand times‚ the floor in my Grandma’s house. The memories of my
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It was my first day of practice for high school swimming. There I was- a scrawny freshman‚ idolizing these upperclassmen who towered above me. Being the only freshman in my class‚ my coach had me train alongside these giants. I remember the countless morning practices‚ which always involved grueling endurance sets‚ where my teammates lapped me constantly while I struggled to make the intervals; feeling disappointed in myself‚ but determined to continue working hard in order to catch up to my teammates
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