When I was in kindergarten I remember always trying to get “frown faces” instead of getting “smiley faces.” My teacher had my older sister just two years before me and she thought that she was an angel and could not wait to have me. Little did she know I was totally opposite of my sister, and I hated school. I always tried making my teacher cry, because it made me feel good about myself. I would try to make her cry by hiding behind bookshelves during reading time and throwing building blocks at kids who were doing what they were supposed to be doing. I always called her a bowling pin because she had a fat body and a skinny head. She had black hair and always kept her hair styled as if she were attractive. I never showed her mercy. I was always the bad kid in the class or also known as the “class clown.” I didn’t do any of this for attention, though. I did it because I didn’t like her. The last day of class before we had our Christmas break, I asked her if she was pregnant and I instantly got sent to the office. This was the first time ever making her cry. I spent around 85% of my time in the principal’s office because she couldn’t handle me.
After my mom took me out of the kindergarten center in Medina, she took me over to Brunswick’s and there I straightened up. My mom was scared for the teacher because it was her first year teaching. My mom didn’t want to make her put up with my nonsense. I was only in Medina’s kindergarten center for half a year because I caused so much mayhem and the school wanted me gone. After kindergarten, I matured a little bit. I was good in elementary school and middle school. I hung out with kids who also had Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD), in elementary through high school as well. I learned to believe that school was not about getting “smiley faces” or “frown faces.” In fact, it’s all about getting along with students and teachers.
Today I see myself as a matured individual. I only have three years left until I go out into the real world. All through school I have always had problems with staying focused. Whether it’s making fun of my teacher or making her cry, I have learned since then to respect people. Although I did enjoy making her cry and terrorizing the room, when it was reading time, I sat back and asked myself why in God’s name would I be so mean to one individual. My mom told me about all of these stories and some of them I couldn’t even believe. My belief has helped me to mature and guide me on my path to college.
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