High School. Some fear it, some don’t. To be one of those who fear it is to fear without shame. We all know it is scary, some just choose to shake it off as if it were just dust blowing in the wind. Sometimes shaking doesn’t always help. When I took my first step as a lowly freshman on the Union Mine campus I thought I was war-torn enough to handle high school having just been the big dog 8th grader at Herbert Green. When I approached my focus class I knew I was afraid deep inside, but wasn’t going to let anyone see it. Those sly upper-class men could smell the fear on me anyway. As I nervously approached my focus teacher I could feel her gaze tear right through me as she handed me my schedule.
Sifting through my new classmates, I sought my first class. As I entered the classroom and took a seat I anxiously awaited the inevitable torture to approach. As my teacher strode into class with that certain arrogance I knew I had reached the 7 circles of hell. I could feel the sweat drippin
High School. Some fear it, some don’t. All I can tell future generations of 8th graders is this; run and run fast because you will need all the strength you can muster to survive the hardships of high school daily life.
As I marched on a bright light began to shine upon me and I realized, It was lunch! I half sprinted, half galloped towards the school cafeteria in search of friend and foe alike, along with a good hearty meal. As I sidled along the cafeteria wall towards me group of friends I spotted a food cart and made a mad dash for the line. After purchasing my precious vittles I entered into some well deserved conversation with my friends. That devil bell rang after only a few relaxing minutes and I realized it was time for 3rd period.
When I crossed the threshold into my 4th period class all that passed through my thick skull was that it was the last period of the day. I sat there like a brain fried caterpillar on the 4th of July not even paying attention to what was being sa
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