Personal Narrative Essay: Thomas Jefferson Middle School

761 Words 4 Pages
Long, wide roads, small houses, and steel fences were my view as I walked into an unfamiliar building called Thomas Jefferson Middle School. I did not know anything about the culture or the language; a huge chill came over me, which I have never felt before. I felt goose bumps as I first walked in the building. The building was old and was not well cared for. The colors of the walls were fading and the elevators made the sound of a dying animal when it moved. Even though I was just twelve years old girl, I felt like a seventy year old women carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders. Everything I knew was turned upside down and I felt like I needed to know more than I should just to survive in that place. Walking into the cafeteria I …show more content…
After two minute the teacher came to me and told me that “class was over and I should go to my next class”. I was very confused, I asked my teacher politely where my next class was, but he couldn’t understand what I was saying so I got up and left. It took me a while to find my other class but finally I did it even though I was five minutes late. Walking through the dark highway I struggled to find the light every day. Going into my classroom felt like opening the door to a pathway to hell. I cried each and every day hoping and praying I would go back to a place I loved my whole life, my school back in Ethiopia. My middle school means a lot to me and I came to realize what life really is in that …show more content…
Failing was never an option for me because back in my country, I was a straight A student, so the first semester made me cry a lot, my tears taste like a sour patch. At the end of the year I ended up passing to 8th grade and was very happy I didn’t have to repeat the same grade. As the days passed and a new school year started, I felt a little better. The first time I walked into the classroom, I sat in the corner and started crying because looking at the kids made me remember my friends in Ethiopia. Seeing them act out reminded of me and my friends getting in trouble and getting hit with a hose by our teachers, I know this is surprising to most people, but I really missed being in trouble. We had a tradition we followed the first day of school since I was in first grade, we would all make a circle and play a game called ayajubon yayachu. The way the game is played is everyone would make a circle and one person would sit in the middle. The person sitting in the middle would pretend to get up from his sleep and dress up and once he’s done everyone disperse and ran away because whoever he cached would lose the

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