Descriptive Essay On A Tridaday Morning

I remember the first day I walked into my kindergarten class, I clenched my mother’s hand with all my might to prevent her from letting go. The kids around me, whom I supposed were my classmates, had long let go of their mother’s had and were playing together, and even as a five year old, at that point I felt like an outsider. I pleaded my mom to not leave but my attempts failed as I found myself alone yet surrounded by complete strangers. As I stood in the center of the room while pushing back my tears and eyeing my mother make her way out the door, I heard the teacher call my name. I timidly walked towards the spot on the yellow carpet she was signaling at for me to sit on. I heard Mrs. Ross’s soothing voice but no matter how much I concentrated

At 1:00 p.m. I entered into Evoline C. West Elementary school on Thursday, July 12 2012 for an interview with Mrs. Yolanda Lawrence. As I entered the classroom, I was greeted by Mrs. Lawrence, the head teacher in this classroom. Mrs. Lawrence has no assistant at this present because of it being in the summer. After I entered into the classroom, the entire class welcomed me with “hello Ms. Flournoy”. It made my day to see all of those smiley faces greeting me. This was a 2nd grade classroom which consisted of 17 students of which 8 were girls and 9 were boys. This interview and observation was a total of 2

As I am walking down the hall to Ms.Johnson’s room, I see something different. There is a sub today. I just really hope she isn’t as mean as she looks. When I walk into the classroom I get my folder and go to my assigned seat to start my “do now”. When the teacher walks in she says,”Everyone sit down and don’t make a noise unless you want a step!”

Today is the day, the day I would get the paper I worked so hard on back. It is a chilly fall morning as I walked to my AP Literature classroom. The classroom was full of vibrant colors that match my teacher’s fiery red hair, various pug pictures, and a shelf jam-packed with Mr. Potato heads. Mrs. Grimes, my teacher, is loud, impolite, and to say this nicely, she is an overweight older woman. I hate going to her class every day, nothing I ever do is good enough for her, she hates me all because I am quiet. So, I am very apprehensive about what grade I had received on this paper.

The classroom set up was very different than what I was used to back in Nepal. I didn’t know anyone in there. I didn’t know what to do, so I just managed to sit in the chair that was nearby the door. All the other students were staring at me like something was wrong with me. In reality, everything felt wrong to me when I was in the situation where it felt so bad that I just wanted to quit. It seemed like I was on a one-way street, and I couldn’t figure out what I should do and how I would get out from it. It was almost the end of that class. The time passed just by watching a documentary on the literature’s time period. After the bell rang, all the students left the classroom; then I walked to my teacher with the problem I was having. I was lost in every other class as the hallways get crowded and the buildings were huge. He helped me solve the problems that I had, and my first day of the new school passed in the same way as it did first three hours of that

I glanced up at the clock. It was 12:18. Mrs. Ewert exclaimed, “One or two problems guys.” My heart sunk to my toe. I had langage arts next. Mrs. Berntson was coming back to school after her son went missing. My friends say that she is seeking revenge and locking up kids. I tried not to think about it and did a math problem, I knew they were exaggerating. The bell rang and Mrs. Ewert excused the class. I slowly walked down the crowded hallway. I turned the corner and could see her crusty, burnt door. Now I could believe my friends, Mrs. Berntson has gone crazy! I looked across the hallway and could see my friend, Will. You could tell by his face that he was scared to go in.

The bell had just rang, school was out. “Olivia, Mrs. Larsson calls.” Olivia is in 6th grade. Her teacher Mrs. Larsson talks to her every day after school telling her the same thing over and over. “You been misbehaving at lunch today”! But this time it was different. “Olivia it's your turn to stay after school and clean the room”. Olivia hated cleaning the room after school, she always ended up staying too late. “ Now run along and tell your mother, I don’t want her to worry like she did last time!” “Ok Mrs. Larsson.” I reply, I run to call my mom but she didn't answer, and my dad was at work so I couldn't call him. “Yup my mom knows.” I say, but she really didn't. “Ok then, well I am going to go home so behave yourself!” Mrs. Larsson says

I almost pass out. I go back to the real world and head to my seat. The teacher said that we were going to get a new student last week, but I didn’t think much of it. In the class, the seats are arranged in pairs of two. Jane was sitting alone. The second bell rung and the class quieted down and waited for Mrs. Flaherty to do the attendance. It turns out, the person that I was assigned to’s grandmother had passed away on the previous Friday, and today was her funeral. After the teacher finished the attendance, she looked at me and said. “Hey Holden, why don’t you sit next to Jane? She’s new, and needs someone to sit with. And since Adam’s out, you need someone to sit with.” Jane picked her head up and she looked at me with delight. I could tell she was really excited, because she slightly twitched her nose. She has been doing it since she and I were kids. I sat down next to her, and we chewed the fat for two minutes before class started. Every time we talk, she kills me. She always has an new, interesting story every time we see each other. After Mrs. Flaherty taught us a third lesson on plagiarism, we went up to get a worksheet about plagiarism that was to be completed before the end of class. I sat back down with Jane trailing. We get started and one of the school’s many jocks threw an eraser at the

"Tasnim, can you please stay after class? I need to talk to you." I let go of the door handle and whip my head back to face my third grade teacher Mrs. Russell. She said my name correctly for the first time all year, though her voice was stern. I realize that my jaw has dropped by the expression on her face as she peers over her laptop. As I walk slowly towards her, my classmates whisper, "Ooh she's in trouble" as they sprint out the door for recess. I stand near my teacher's desk waiting for all the students to leave and when the room is silent, Mrs. Russell says,

Starting the day started off by waiting in my seat a 3rd-grade classroom at River View Elementary taught by Mrs. Course. Surrounded by the same people every day waiting in agony to get called out of the classroom. It was thoughtful of the teachers to let me leave almost every day, so I could gain help with reading during the time everyone else was reading with the teacher. Although leaving early every day left me wondering if anyone notices. The teacher walks up to me and says “Shaylee it’s time to go.” After that worry, the other 3rd graders will notice I abandon the classroom seeps into my thoughts. The volcano of questions starts to explode, creating inquiry thoughts of “What if they make fun of me?”, “Where did you

They shook their heads, and I slowly got up from the floor, telling them to go back into class while I called my mom. She picked up on the third ring, and as soon as I heard her voice I began crying again. She freaked out, thinking that I was hurt or something of the like. I assured her that I was fine, and then explained to her what had happened to Josh. She began crying, apologizing for the fact that I had lost yet another friend at such a young age. She asked me if I wanted to be checked out of school so I could come home, but I told her no because I wanted to see if I could find someone who had more information on what had happened. I hung up the phone and got onto Safari, googling Josh’s name to see if anything popped up. There was an article stating that a teenager had crashed on Memorial Road, but they were unsure of the cause of the crash or who the victim was. I eventually gave up and went back into Coach Lovett’s classroom, sitting in the desk behind Shelby’s. I got out my AP Government homework and tried to busy myself, distract myself. The class did not have a substitute teacher since Lovett had left so suddenly that morning, so everyone was surprised when he came into the classroom, talking quietly on the phone. I immediately stood up, walking over to his desk, where he was packing up his things. He told me that all of the boys were at Braxton’s house and that I was more than

The bell rang louder than ever and that meant we had to transition back to homeroom. All of the students huddled into the door frame and pushed and shoved out of the classroom. Me being the smart child just stepped aside and let the stampede pass. When I entered Ms.Erskine’s class, I saw an unfamiliar face sitting next to my other friend Fatim. Fatim and Nevaeh were sitting at the desk chatting away like they were previous best friends. I slowly walked into the classroom confused

The day right from the start seemed like a good day so I went about smiling and walked blissfully to my normal seat next to my friends. We prepared for the coming classes that day. The deafening bell sounded and we were on our way to start the actual day. My classmates and I walked joyfully through the hallways, joking and laughing before reaching our first period destination. I made my way to the front of the classroom and sat down. The air was crisp so I took out my jacket and put it on. Our teacher walked in a few minutes late and started to take attendance. The whole classroom focused on him. After he finished taking attendance, he slowly reached down into a drawer and pulled out a stack of papers. I stared in disbelief. The stack of papers he pulled out was actually a pop-test. I took the pop-test trying to recall everything that we had learned over the course of two weeks. I focused on the test for most of the class period and finally turned it in. The morning weather seemed to just be a ruse. This was not a blissful or good day; it took a turn for the worst. I sat there in the chilling room trying to think of something else to keep

Then, as the last girl passed through, everyone went back to their places. I sucked in a rasped breath as I pushed the red, thick steel lunch room doors. With my hair covering the front of my face like a funeral veil, I examined the hard, smooth marble floors as I shuffled through the sea of shoes until I reached the wall. A hush fell over the crowd as the principal came strolling in. He started giving a speech about the school dance this Friday, yet I drowned him out. Today was January twenty-seventh, Stella’s birthday. I could not hold it in anymore as I sank against the wall, silently letting all the sorrow and despair flow out of me. Two pink sneakers came to rest on the glazed marble floors. “Well, do you not want to join us?” questioned a clipped, sickly sweet voice. Willing myself to raise my head, I slowly brought my eyes up. She was wearing a short checkered skirt with a navy blue collared shirt. I met the girl’s eyes. A shocking electric blue. “Well, are you going to answer me or not?” she asked again. “Um...sure…” I replied, mesmerized by the amount of makeup the girl had on. I felt hands on my shoulders as her crew pulled me to my feet. I stared at the floor the whole time until I reached the designated “popular”

Suddenly, there was a hush in the room. The teacher had asked someone a question! I tried to seem casual as I glanced up to see if I was the unlucky person who had been called upon. My heart jumped and then I realized that the teacher was looking at the person to my right, waiting expectantly for an answer. I stared at the girl also, as if I was truly interested in whatever ramblings might come out of her mouth about the dead general and his battle. I felt my face grow warm with a slight blush as I became embarrassed for her and her inability to answer the question. She must have been paying as much attention to the lecture as I had been. Finally, she was able to formulate a less than mediocre answer that satisfied the monotone voice at the front of the room and the lecture resumed. Another glance back at the girl and I saw the cell phone palmed in her left hand down by her side. She had been text-messaging someone instead of paying attention!