9th GradeMemories and MetaphorNinth grade was the warm up session. Coming into high school I was a lazy student, completely unprepared for the workload that was coming my way. The new atmosphere and people were forcing me to adapt my stance. The first time I walked through the doors of Ocean Lakes High School I was in awe. In awe of the size, the vibrance of the floors, lockers, and windows, and even in awe of the staff. The very same people that have helped shape me into the person I am today. I walked into my first class and I will never forget the look I saw on every ones face. A look of terror and anxiety that i'm sure I portrayed on my own face. Gradually, as time progressed, the look of terror and anxiety gave way to looks of innocence, boredom, exhaustion, and curiosity. I bobbed and weaved my way into my Geometry class and almost yelled in excitement because there, in front of me, was my brother. Turns out his teacher had been given too many students so he received a schedule change and was moved into my class. We, of course, sat together and raised Cain for the rest of the year. There were points that were stressful, and I missed the mitt on more than one occasion, nearly failing, but I can say that I learned a lot about myself and life.
I punched and kicked my way through a lot of books this year. The "Odyssey" knocked me out of the ring, mythology was always something that I enjoyed. I loved reading "The Most Dangerous Game", it surprised me when the story was turned around like it did. I fought a losing battle while reading I am the Cheese, it was ridiculously confusing to me. I started reading on my own this year, and especially loved reading fiction. I struggled with English, especially writing. Changing styles, I was taught how to improve upon my writing, though not much of it stuck with me. I created a cereal box project with analysis's on World War Z perfecting my ability to slip the from text. I learned the appropriate use of diction. I also learned the valuable skill of manufacturing a piece of writing in a minimal amount of time, the night before it is due. More than once, I thought I did not have the will to step in the ring once more. Writing was like the last round of a fight, it was tiring and dragged on forever. My teacher this year was hilarious and caring, and much of what she taught me still sticks with me today. IntroductionThe original assignment was to debate on the usefulness of memories, whether they hindered or helped. This piece is entirely opinionated based on my own experiences and thoughts. I chose this writing because of its simplicity. It gets the point across while still being short and sweet.
Memories
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