One of the most important things I have learned is to never give up and to always believe in yourself. I have experienced this many times, but there is one instance which has really thought me the true meaning of it. While in my freshman year of high school, I had some trouble to deal with. My school days consisted of write-up after write-up. I was asked to apprehend my cellular device but refused to. One thing led to another and soon I was suspended from school. This got me very behind in school and made me fail big tests and quizzes because I didn’t know the material that was needed to pass. I was suspended more than once over a long period of time. Some of my teachers would send work home that I was asked to do and turn back in, but not all of my teachers and classes did this, which brought my grade average way down. I finally realized I had to achieve good grades to get promoted to the next grade level; I was going to have to make big and great changes. I started putting my cell phone up and paying attention in school.
There was one point in my life when everything I would see or think of was the negative side of things. I could not be happy or ever satisfied with anything in my life because of how bad and selfish I was. My mom was working hard shifts at SAM’s to keep up with bills, which made her depressed and stressed all the time. She was taking care of me and my brother at this time and everything was just too hard in life. I was an angry brat I would say… In 5th grade I made a new friend, Mark. Mark was blind and kids would always pick on him but I would always have his back. We became best friends later on and started hanging out. One day, I was curious and asked him if he wished he could see like I could and surprisingly he said no. This really shocked me and I asked him why. He told me he liked being different from everyone else; he said that being that way let him see the good in everyone no matter what they look like. I was a bad kid and he saw the good in me
People learn from most of the bad experiences they’ve been through in their lives. They think about the different decisions they could’ve made and they try to change them. Some people only realize making a mistake causes you to learn from it. Growing up I realized this world wasn’t brought here to please anyone. It was created so people could go through different experiences and gain knowledge of those things. Sitting back and watching this world crash down has opened up a lot of images to me. On the news everyone is blamed for something, or they blame someone else for what they have done. I noticed it wasn’t right. If every human being has knowledge of right and wrong doings, then their actions speak for themselves. Sometimes I did things just to find out what the results were going to be. Most of the time without realizing, I do things not expecting a result or consequence, but I got one anyway. While being raised in this world many things have come to my attention. I wasn’t very proud of myself AND of the things I did. I blamed it on other people or other situations. I finally realized it
I just turned sixteen and I was going to get a job so I can get a car. So I applied at like twelve different places but I never got called and I was disappointed. I wanted to have some friends to come over. My mom said just invite a lot of my friends to come over and I could have a party. We all were around the bonfire and we were about to go eat. Then this car pulled up and my mom tells me I have to direct the cars to park. So I tried to get the car to pull up and they wouldn’t. I was getting real mad. Then the car door opened and my mom’s friend and mine that was a cop got out of the car and he said, “Move it yourself, it’s yours.” I did not know what to do. I could not believe it was mine. My mom told me I had to get a job. So I applied at McDonalds, Zaxby’s, Pizza Hut, Taco Bell, Bells, and Ingles. I never got called back I still haven’t given up because I have to for my car. No one else will take care
As a child of immigrant parents, neither of whom graduated from high school, I have often wondered how it was possible that all six of their children graduated from college and earned advanced degrees from some of the best colleges in the country — Harvard, Brown, UC Berkeley, Cornell, Columbia, etc. It certainly wasn’t the public schools we attended. Most of the kids I went to school with in Brentwood, NY, a working class suburb in central Long Island, didn’t go to college at all. Those who did go on to higher education went either to a SUNY school — Albany, Buffalo, New Paltz — or to the local community college. The majority of my peers, however, were thrilled to find a good-paying union job at one of the psychiatric hospitals in the area or at the Entenmann’s factory for which our town was known. My siblings and I were the exceptions in a variety of ways. While my friends ate typical American food — McDonalds, meat ‘n potatoes, white Wonder bread — we ate the Caribbean food of our parents’ upbringing: rice and beans, curried chicken and goat, and only whole wheat bread (which, to my embarrassment, was used