Introduction:

My goals for this essay, honestly, were to just be honest and tell a story that meant a lot to me. Any other way I try to explain it, I fear that it’s seen as me complaining, so I tried to make it so it would be more down to earth instead. I don’t expect anyone to sympathize with it, but it’s still the story I wanted to share. I’m proud of how I took the time to figure out what I did and didn’t want to include, since I could’ve kept the topic the same but mentioned a different scene of memory. One way I’d want to improve my writing is by getting all my ideas down first and then going from there instead of trying to figure it out before I write. 

Essay:

My backpack made a sound louder than I had expected as I threw it off my shoulder and onto the floor of my room. I took two steps from my bedroom door and sat on the bed to unlace and take off my shoes. I didn’t think much of the sound my bag made until my mom stormed down the hall and pushed my wooden door open. “What was that?” she asked. I turned to face her and replied, “It was just my bag.” She shook her head and closed my door as she started to make her way down the hall. “Too many books in that bag,” I heard her say. I didn’t reply and continued to settle in after coming home from a long day of school. English, Rosetta, history, math, art. All this homework, I thought. So much to finish.

I laid back and sank into my bed. I reached across the grey bedspread over to the small, white nightstand to the right of my bed and grabbed my airpods. I put them in, listened for the sound to signal they’ve connected, and put all of my music on shuffle. The first song that played? “Buried Alive Interlude”. One of my favorite songs from Drake’s album Take Care. The long windows covered with white blinds were slowly getting darker as the sun went lower in the sky. I grabbed my phone off the bed next to me and put the whole album on shuffle. After placing my phone down again, I closed my eyes, and waited for the next song to play.

I care about a lot of things; My grades and homework are some examples of that. I remember being younger and wanting nothing to do with school. Everything required excessive amounts of thinking, and having to take part in that for eight straight months was unappealing. The stress, arguments, and having things not be as fun as they used to be follow me around every school year. Once mid-spring came around, things started looking up again, and it turned into a cycle. The only reason I wanted to go was for my friends, since they were the only good things about school. It took me years to understand that it would happen regardless of how easy or hard the work was. It was just up to me to decide to either fight against it and complain all the time, or do something about it to help get to the end of the year.

The situations that bring you down, like stress and overwhelming events, are the ones that you can’t change. They’ll stay how they are: negative, bleak, and eventually, powerless. It took me about five months to learn that specifically, and after that I could enjoy what I had, like my freedom, my music, and the weather. Over the past three months, especially, I grew. I learned who was and wasn’t there for me (sometimes through the hard way), what I wanted in life and what I didn’t, and what I liked and disliked for so many things. But mainly, what to focus on and what to leave behind. I was sad to see some go and happy to welcome in others. I had to remember it’s not really about them, it’s about what’s best for me.

I found that it’s important to step away and escape with what makes you happy. The feeling of stress from the loads of homework easily washes away when both headphones are in and I turn the volume up a little higher. You can forget the pressure of junior year in high school when you hang out with those you love most and only yards away from the beach. You’re not always going to be near a beach, but over the summer that was the outlet I used to help keep myself relaxed. I know that my situation won’t always be the same and things definitely will get rough. But as long as I keep what’s best for me in mind, I know I’ll be fine.

When I was 7 years old, my elementary school would come and invite everyone to come and celebrate Father’s Day. That was when my 7-year-old fragile self used to cry three nights before the event. That’s when I realized that I did not have a father. My parents separated when I was 2 years old. Since that time, I’ve lost track of my biological father and my mom has been by my side for 17 years. Growing up, I would see my friends getting picked up by their parents. I wanted my parents to pick me up, but my dad wasn’t there and my mom was trying to fit in both roles, which she couldn’t because she was absent most times. Basically, I was on my own and had a hard time processing my feelings. As a kid, there aren’t many times when an adult will sit down and tell you what is going on. With the little information you get, you start blaming people and forgiving is not part of your vocabulary. I used to be rough on myself, I would most times blame myself for the separation of my parents when in reality, I had nothing to do with it and it wasn’t my fault.

Years later, I moved to a private school, where I had friends with successful parents. The following year, we celebrated Father’s Day. My friends dressed up as the mirroring image of their fathers. Instead, I dressed up as a hairdresser with an apron, because my mom was a hairdresser and she sewed for a factory. I started to accept reality and realized that even though my biological father was never there, it didn’t mean that my family wasn’t going to be there to support me. I began to get involved with different classmates and created friendships that are still standing to this day. Yes, I’ll admit that absence sucks but it’s only for a while because then you start to forget what they looked like and that they are just a memory. The absence of something or someone starts feeling like nothing after the years go by. After you make more friends and start new adventures all sorts of guilt, anger, and resentment, it will fade away. Anger and resentment became my friends and my biggest mistake was never talking about it with my family, I didn’t want to be the center of attention. I didn’t want to be another problem.

As I became older, it became harder to understand: Why me? Why does it have to be that way? I had more questions but no one to answer them. Until this day it’s still hard to comprehend why my dad decided to leave and even though we have talked about it, I feel that more happened. He usually says, “I did not love your mom anymore.” That leaves me hanging with more questions like did you love me anymore? Was it the fact that we lived in different places that emotionally separated us?

When my uncle used to play “Don’t Stop Believin” by The Journey on my way to school and we would sing to the top of our lungs it would light up my day. I would pray and ask God why wasn’t my uncle my dad? Or why didn’t I have a dad like him? I had to understand that he was just my uncle. Over the years many people have become part of my life, but when I met my dad I cried. My emotions were confused and still are. I saw him and then I saw my reflection, he is tall with curly hair, big brown eyes, and a deep voice. I would cry for my mom and he would say things like “why do you cry if I’m here?” and I would stay quiet. All that anger I thought I had learned to manage just came back. The worst attitude would come out of me until I made him cry once. I loved my sisters even my stepmother but the problem was with him. Every day for a year, I tried to get closer but it was impossible. I would just think about that time when my uncle told me “Margie you have to jump off the car” because it was burning and how he put my safety first and then his own. Little things that my dad would say, made things harder for me to forgive him, made me want my life back. The last time I saw him, I still felt like a stranger to him. Looking at his eyes I said, “would you still support me even after distance comes between us again?” To my surprise, he said, “I just think you have a better life here.” I am glad I moved to Philly out of a painful relationship, but I do admit that I miss him, I hope he knows that. Then that’s when I thanked my family for helping me become the person I am today. I’ve been a part of a couple of sports teams and clubs I’ve learned a lot from them.

Today I am not upset with my biological father, I forgive him if there is anything to forgive and I wish him the best. He has a new family and I am happy for them, I hope my sisters have a different childhood than I did. The last time I saw him I told him I just hoped the best for him and even though we hadn’t talked in a while, the last time we did we fought, I still want the best for him and I’ll be here to give the support I never got. I’ve realized that family is anyone who welcomes you to their life. After all the pain I’ve learned that I’m not the bad guy in this story and that I never was, neither was him.

Introduction:

The goal for this essay is to talk about how it better to do a few extracurriculars than so many at once. I explain how it can be stressful, the negative effect of doing so many at once, and why it not easy to just stop doing an extracurricular. I am proud of linking two completely different descriptive scenes and finding a common theme to flesh it out into a bigger idea. What I want to improve for my writing process and technique for my next paper is to not overdo the descriptive language. I felt like I added too much unnecessary detail to describe what I am feeling and the setting around me. Also I felt like the transition from my scene to my big idea was unsmooth. I need to work out on a smooth transition

Advance Essay #1:

It was a cool Monday afternoon as I quickly walked up out of the ill-light subway station. I started my journey home from school. The gentle wind blows against my face as I walked down the street. I was alone with my calm, relaxing music while I thought about what I had to do to prepare for tomorrow. I sighed to myself as I realize how much I had to for school additionally with weekend homework I had.

I try to pace myself faster as I walk down the street but my legs felt tight and exhausted from practice. Spriting five laps around the school building took an enormous amount of energy. With the addition of frisbee practice in the morning, all I can think about was sleep. I slowly approach the front of my house, fumble around for my keys, and open the door.

I slowly stomped my way up the stairs and into my room. I threw my bookbag down as I collapsed onto my bed. The softness of my bed made my heart slowly beat now as I started to feel relaxed. I reach into my pocket to grab my phone. I started to play some chill, nice, quiet music. As the sound of music flows into my room. I lay in bed with my thoughts and slowly my eyes become heavy. My vision started to blur and darken and my hearing slowly faded away. There laying in bed, I fell asleep. It was the most relaxed I felt all day.

Ever since my junior year of high school has started, I’ve never been more excited to see my bed after school during my high school career. I am in cross country, students run practice and ultimate frisbee. With all of these activities, a regular day can range from 5:30 am - 6:30 pm. I never really minded the long days when I was in my freshman-sophomore year as the workload was pretty average. I believed I could keep this up for my whole high school career being involved with a lot of physical activities along with my education. I was pretty good at time management so I did not see it as an issue to me. I am a good student who rarely does badly in class after all. I decided to do the three sports.

As I got home from school, I was in my room and I started to reflect on an obvious problem I began to notice throughout the school year last year. My sleeping schedule was messed up. I had only gotten 5-6 hours of sleep every day. During benchmark season it is even less. Doing homework, concentrating, and listening to directions became harder and harder each day. I can recall a day when I almost fell asleep in class.

I remember it was late afternoon when I sat in history class learning about the different empires throughout history. Everyone was quiet and all eyes were on Mr.Todd as he gave his boring lecture about empires. I had a hard time paying attention. My eyes felt heavy as I tried to pay attention to Mr. Todd. I rolled my head around and shook it everytime my vision started to blur and my hearing began to fade away. All because of last night.

I was up all night working on my Algebra 2 benchmark. I was already exhausted coming home at 6 o’clock from physical activities. My desk was like a war zone, papers everywhere, scattered around. Directions for benchmarks and worksheets from all my classes covered my desk. On my computer, numerous tabs were open from google docs to my sources, to spreadsheets filled with numbers as I put in my final touches for my Algebra 2 benchmark. My head started to spin and I could feel the exhaustion taking over my body. It wasn’t until 12 that I decided to submit it and call it “my best work.” I lay on my bed and instantly fell asleep.

I began to realize that I had a clear problem. I realized that the overwhelming amount of stress and exhaustion were taking a toll on me physically and mentally. The lack of sleep I been having was affecting my performance in school. Although I was able to complete things on time without a problem, it negatively impacted me by being tired throughout the day. It caused me to miss things that were said in class and not pay attention much of what was going on. This also affected my social life. While being exhausted, I felt miserable and unhappy. This caused me to have mood swings. The littlest thing can bother me so much and make to get angry. I would often have short outbursts at home and even at school for unnecessary and silly reasons. The stress and exhaustion were getting in my way in having a successful and happy career in high school.

It was not only that stress and lack of sleep that brought me down, but me being oblivious to the fact that I think it ok I can manage three sports all at the same time. I love playing all three sports but you have to choose to do one at the end of the day. You have to understand that it is better for one or two things because you be able to commit to it and see the improvements as you continue to commit. If you do a bunch of things all at the same time, you will not be able to commit and do those things as well. An even bigger problem is that once you join all of these activists/sports, you feel pressure to continue to do it and not quit. Everyone in each of the activities and/or sports are counting on you and the role you play in. The idea of quitting makes everyone have a negative view on you. It feels like you have let everyone down and be label you as a quieter. Everyone gonna look down on you as if you are weak. It is important for people to understand that you have to make a wise choice and think ahead how much extracurriculars you can handle. Do not overwork yourself and it always better to do one or two extracurriculars than doing many extracurriculars. Knowing that you have to quit does not show a sign of weakness at all but knowing what you can manage and what you can not manage.

Introduction: My goal for writing this essay was to highlight the idea of fear and really simplify what it is that we are truly scared of underneath our imagination of ghosts and monsters. Before writing this, I never really understood what my fears came from but after so much analyzation and speculation regarding my experiences with the bears, I realized that it was really all about control. I think that one way I could’ve improved my writing process was if I had an essay plan that I could follow. If I was able to go back, I feel like this would’ve really made writing my essay a lot simpler.

Like many children, I feared many things as a kid. Ghosts, the dark, monsters, and sharks. Although, logically, these things could never hurt me, my imagination was bigger than common knowledge. Therefore, I spent most of my childhood sleeping with a night light on and avoiding the depths of the ocean. But every once in a while, kids are taught to face their fears. Sometimes a big revelation comes from it and sometimes these encounters will just allow us to paint our imaginations to be even darker than before. “Look at that!” my father quietly whispers in concentration as he stares out of our porch window. I rub my eyes trying to wake myself from my sleep as it had only been the early hours of the morning. I begin to walk up to the window, curious to see what my father had been fixated on. I stop in my tracks as soon as I realize what is waiting on my porch. It’s a bear! My eyes widen at the sight. There it stands, so large and intimidating, about 6 feet tall, brown and course furr, with black eyes that seem to welcome frightening thoughts that pass through my head. It slowly ambles through the deck on it’s colossal paws that flaunts it large, shiny claws. His head keeps low as he is unaware of his audience. I look up at my dad, helpless and vulnerable, desperate for security. As years built on my life, so did my fears. Seeing that bear, reminded me of just how random and unexpected, the experiences in life can be. Thinking back on just how close I was to the beast, made me think; “Am I in control of my safety or am I simply relying on fate?”. A few years later, I encountered yet another situation that made me feel even more curious of this answer. I sit in the back seat of my father’s old and run down toyota alongside my older sister and brother. We had been on a long car ride that had seemed to drone on for hours. It was fall. The leaves that were once green and in their prime of summer were now dull and brittle due to the inevitable transitioning of seasons. The subtle twists and turns of the endless Pocono roads seem to put me in a deep trance as I look through the depth of the forest that surrounds the black pavement we travel on. As I watch, I examine the many customs that it had to offer. The beautiful trees, the colorful leaves scattered on the muddy floor of the vegetation, marked by the coming of fall, and all the life the forest had to offer. I look deeper and deeper in, slowly becoming consumed in it’s quiet tranquility. My daze is broken when I see something big and dark out in the distance. It ushers slowly by the trees, head low and oblivious of its surroundings. It’s another bear! My stomach drops of fear and my heart beats fast. A hundred thoughts run through my head, all having the same dark ending: me ending up in the grasp of his big, shiny claws. I shudder at the thought but shake it off, knowing deep down that I was protected by the metal exterior of my father’s car. As I look back on both of my encounters with the bears, I begin to realize that they are both situations in which I encountered the core value of fear. In both situations, I found myself vulnerable and lost; unable to recognize reality from ridiculous thoughts I had conjured up by fear. Seeing these bears, brought forth panic. A feeling that for some reason, I couldn’t shake. No matter where I was or how safe I felt deep down, the thoughts in my head were so loud that I couldn’t focus on logic. I could only listen to my mind telling me that I will end up being a victim of the bear, that no matter how in control of the situation I was, I would somehow lose all restraint and find myself in a position of danger. Looking back on these experiences remind me of when I’m sitting on top of a ledge of a building and I suddenly think to myself: What if I lost all control of my body and jumped?. Fear is essentially the idea that we will one day lose control of our own selves and our actions. It doesn’t matter who the victim is or how their mind works. No matter how stable you think you are, you will never know just how vulnerable you are until you encounter what scares you the most. That one thought that gives you chills as you stand alone in the dark, unable to find that sense of control you once had. Your head gets foggy and your heart beats uncontrollably. And once you are brought to safety and the chills on your back had finally settled, you begin to think to yourself: was it the presence of the imaginary monster that scared me or was it the loss of control?

Introduction: My goal for this essay was to bring comfort to the reader. Change is something that everyone must endure. Although change may be uncomfortable the things that come from it are necessary for personal growth. I am proud of my overarching idea in this essay because it’s something I will remember for the rest of my life. I would like to improve getting m point across in more detailed and concise sentences.

Advanced Essay #1: I heard my mom shout my name up the two flights of stairs from my kitchen to the attic, where my cluttered room was. My stomach dropped when I realized I forgot to empty the dishwasher when I got home from school. I rushed downstairs preparing to get the usual lecture when my dad called me into the living room. Where my mom, dad, and brother all sat in uncomfortable silence. I sat down and waited to hear what I predicted was terrible news. I immediately began to think of every possible thing they could be preparing to tell me. I blurted out, “What is this about?”. My foot began to tremble while I chewed on my fingernails as stress overcame my body. My mom said that someone bought our house. My heart dropped, I never imagined that this would happen. Everything that I remember was in that house. When I thought matters couldn’t get any worse my dad began to explain how we were moving to Philadelphia at the end of the school year. Tears began to build in my eyes. Without saying anything I calmly walked out of the room, through the kitchen and up the two flights of stairs to my room where I slammed my door. All my jackets fell from the rusty hook on the back of the door as I collapsed onto my bed. I looked around my room and all I could think was that it wouldn’t be mine for much longer. Everything I knew and loved was going to change. New school, new house, new room, new friends, new challenges. For the first time in my life, I didn’t want summer to start. I guess it was my fear of change that scared me the most. The unknown. I was afraid of everything that came with moving. I began to cry as I examined things in my room I never paid any mind to. I peered out of the window my bed had been pushed up to for as long as I could remember and watched the sunset. I tried to create a plan to prevent the upcoming disaster but deep down I knew it was inevitable. I couldn’t imagine restarting my whole life. I never wanted to move, I loved my house. With its fading yellow walls and hundreds of willowing books. I didn’t want someone else to get the treehouse, my brother, dad and I built for my 7th birthday. I didn’t want another family to cover our memories with theirs. Fast forward 12 months. I’ve made the once frightening city my home. If someone were to tell me that this would be my life as I hopelessly laid in bed that night, I would’ve never in a million years believed them. I have since then met so many amazing people and have grown a genuine love for school. I can happily say that although my world crumbled around me I have made an even more beautiful life here. I’ve realized that change is a blessing in disguise. Once I made it through the painful nights and lonely days I made this my home. I discovered that nothing is permanent, nothing except myself and my family. Life is too short to focus on things that we cannot change.

Introduction-

For this essay, I tried to do what I hate to do the most, and open up in this essay. I tried to let the reader into my mind and how far I’ve come. I’m proud of being able to complete this and give insight into my life and the people who influence it. By the time I write my next paper, I want to expand on reflections rather than spend so much time on descriptions.

Eliana Alfaro-Allah Air Stream 9/20/19

The cold air nipped at me from all sides as I stared out at the river. The sun had already set, but the light hadn’t left the sky. It was no longer orange; it had become a dim sky blue that hung above our heads. Two small brothers laughed joyously as one of them happily tugged a kite along the riverside, the small amount of sand squeezing in between their toes.

I got bored as soon as I sat down. I looked around for entertainment, and cast my eyes down toward the ground. I immediately spotted a small rock, its reds and oranges shining past the dreary and dull greys of the pebbles it laid among. I picked it up, grimacing at the dirt on my fingers but hurriedly cleaned it off. I smiled down at the treasure, admiring it with joy.

“You know-” my aunt’s thick accented voice interrupted my spacing out as I turned up to look at her. Her long, chestnut-colored braid dangled with a flower at the end like a pendulum as she sat down beside me. “If you want to take anything from nature, you have to ask permission first.”

I blinked, utterly confused by the statement. I looked back down at the rock, smoothing it out in my fingertips before looking up at Zafra. “How do I know if they say yes or not?”

Zafra snorted, the sound turning into a chorus of delighted giggles. She wrapped her arms around my shoulders before pulling me flush against her, resting her cheek on top of my head. “You’ll just know, I suppose.”

Zafra was always insightful. She had frequent revelations and nuggets of wisdom, always on hand. When I went to Chile for the first time, I had no idea what to think. I hadn’t even left the United States, and I hadn’t spoken Spanish in a long time, and now I was going somewhere completely new where the only person I knew was my grandmother. My grandmother had a bad habit of withholding information from me, so I didn’t exactly know where we were going until the cab from the airport took us to a small apartment on the corner of Lota and Hernando de Aguirre. I was lacking any sort of guiding motion in my life at that point. My mother worked so much that I hardly saw her, and while one of my sisters had moved back in with us, she was hastily learning a trade, so I barely saw her either. Nobody to ground me or show me they understood. I had gotten accustomed to it until I met Zafra.

She was a kind and gentle soul, a psychologist who had a wholesome faith in humanity. And toward the beginning, as much as she tried to get me to open up, I wouldn’t budge. Her profession made me wary, reminding me of some sort of talented robot. Of course she pretended to be interested in my life. She lived to learn. The classic ‘good doctor’, just wanting to fix.

But she never gave up. She was always eager to greet me in the mornings, all the way down to tending to my last need at night. She brought me copious amounts of sweets and gifts. I took the acts as ones of bribery. But she had me cornered in the kitchen one day. She had been fixing me tea, and had asked if I liked Chile. I told her that it was a dream. What wasn’t there to love? Great food, nice views, everything’s cheap, I wished I could live there. Zafra was pleased with my answer, but followed it up by asking that if that was true, why was I silent so often?

I didn’t know how to respond. This woman, my aunt, was so sweet and kind, if I wasn’t honest, it would take such a toll on me. So I told her. I keep to myself usually, but it’s just that I hadn’t spoken Spanish in a while, and sometimes it came out like jagged, broken shards of a glass vase. She turned to me, and said the words that I had been meaning to hear for so long. “I understand you.”

I wouldn’t be so emotional over it had it been for the fact that we both knew she wasn’t just talking about language. My facade can take the form of many things. In America, I played the smiling fool, airheaded and dopey to bring a light atmosphere to heavy undertones of my life. In Chile, I could be the shy and pensive girl, only people in America knew that I hated people like that with a passion and I wasn’t shy so much as I just disliked people. But Zafra looked straight through me and told me that she understood all of it.

She took me to a fair close to the end of the trip. After a day of fun, we waited at the bus stop in anticipation to be taken back to Santiago when Zafra nudged me, giving me a glance of the bundle of paper in her hands. She unraveled a set of churros, that we all began to wolf down. I told her that it reminded me of funnel cake.

She tilted her head in confusion. “Funnel cake? What kind of cake is that?”

I hummed, tapping my chin and picking at a loose thread of my cargo pants. “It’s not really… cake. It’s strips of batter like this, fried with powdered sugar. It’s basically the same as churros, just… spaghetti.”

“Hmm…” Zafra nodded, closing her eyes and thinking. “I understand you. And you eat that on what occasions?”

I smiled, finishing the last bite of mine before brushing off my white-speckled hands on my pants. “Fairs, like this. They had a county fair in my other grandma’s town every summer when we went to visit her.”

Zafra looked down at me, her lips curling up in a small smile. “Do you miss her?”

I yawned. “I’m supposed to.”

And she understood. Zafra, while I hated to open myself up in the moment, let me become a softer version of myself under her guise. She helped me to become more trusting, less hateful, and my friends especially can see it. She saw me for what I wanted to be, not what I emulated, and treated me kindly and caringly. I take every conversation, every story over tea, every story and chunk of love she gave me and carry it with me and try to share it with others. Even if I can’t help anyone hurting, or erase what made them so bitter, I can do what Zafra taught me. I can understand.

                      Introduction

My goal for this essay is to my readers to understand that it’s not a bad thing to feel different emotions when dealing with school. Something that I am proud of is how my words really expressed how I was feeling. One way that I want to improve in my writing process for my next paper is learning how I want to form it, so that my essay isn’t all over the place.

                       Feelings...

School will always be something that’s on your mind. The mindset of school can be a good thing or a bad thing. When it’s the first day of school, most people don’t know what to expect, so they immediately get nervous. I was one of those people.

Ugh! Do I have to go to school? Why can’t I have at least one more week of summer? Is junior year going to be hard? What is it going to be like in a new building? I just don’t want to go. I just know that this year is going to be stressful just because that’s exactly how it was for my sophomore year. It was just work piled after work, and I know it’s going to be the same for my junior year.

September 6th, 2019. The day I started junior year. Waking up at 5:15 A.M almost killed me. I got dressed and put on my red Vans shirt, black jeans, red vans, and black shayla. Still asking myself: Why do I have to go to school?

Going through the doors of Ben Franklin with one of my closest friends Alyssa, all I could feel was nervousness all of a sudden. All I wanted to do was wake up from this nightmare I was having, and say “it was just a dream.” I even had to pinch myself to make sure that I wasn’t dreaming. The sad thing about this was, IT WASN’T!

All of a sudden, the friends that I haven’t seen all summer started to give me hugs and make conversation with me. I don’t know why, but it gave me comfort. From that point on, I wasn’t even stressing about the fact that I was actually in school. My friends just made me extremely happy by making me super comfortable with the environment that I was in. Turns out, it wasn’t a bad day after all!

It was a regular Thursday night. Paperwork all over my bed. Just tired of working, and ready to go to sleep. Stressed was the only word to describe how I was feeling that night.

Sophomore year. We just received a mini project for Mr. Kay. The assignment stated that it had to be a cartoon relating to the book we read and it has to be scanned on an app called “Cam Scanner.” I never had to scan anything before, so I wasn’t sure how to actually use it. I tried to make sure I finished the project a day earlier from when it was due, so I can see how to use the “Cam Scanner” app. Unfortunately, I didn’t meet my goal, so I had to complete my project the night it was due. The problem I was having with this app was that I didn’t know how to make it into a pdf, so that I can turn it in on canvas at 11:59 pm.

By this time, it was 11 P.M and I’ve been trying to figure out this “Cam Scanner” app for 2 hours now. I couldn’t call any of my classmates to figure it out, because they were also trying to complete their own projects. I started freaking out.

Moments later, my mother came into my room and asked what was wrong. She sat on my bed and looked concerned.

“What’s going on Sukainah,” she asked. Crying in her arms is all I remember. I just cried, until no more tears came out of my eyes. All she did was comfort me as I needed a moment to get myself together.

After having a moment with my mother and explaining to her what I was stressed out about, she showed me how to use the “Cam Scanner.”

Within 15 mins, I got the assignment done! All I needed was comfort and guidance to accomplish my goal that night.

Something that I realized is that comfort is all I need. When you have comfort from the people you love and who also loves you, it makes you feel a lot better. For example, if my I didn’t see my friends on the first day, I probably would have just been nervous. The weird thing about this is that it’s my third year in SLA and till this day, I still don’t understand why I was so nervous.

Also, if I didn’t get comfort from my mother about my project, I probably would of just sat there in my own tears stressing myself out. The feelings I had can definitely have a similarity to the real world. For example, students can often feel nervous on their first day of school. The reason for this nervousness can be, because they don’t know what to expect on their first day. Also, students can often feel stressed when doing any assignment. The only way to express ourselves sometimes is to cry, because we might not know what else to do. With the comfort of someone when having any type of emotion, can make things 10 times better.

Introduction This essay was made me really have to think outside of my normal writers box. I was able to learn how to write an essay that tells a story. When it comes to goals,one of my main goals was to eventually have an essay that I was proud of. An essay that I would be happy to submit. When it comes to something that I am proud of it would be my ending I was really able to tie the whole essay together. For improvements I would definitely have wanted to think through my whole essay structure before starting the writing process. All in all, I am proud of the essay that I have produced.

My breath comes out choppy and infrequent. I feel a lump forming in my throat. I feel a knot forming in my stomach. I feel the tears on the edges of my eyes that yearn to come out. I feel my heart pounding out of my chest. My mind starts to run a mile a minute. I start to feel like everything is out of control. Like I can’t do anything to fix everything that is wrong. That everything that’s wrong is somehow my fault. I know this is not true but I can’t shake the feeling. I try to calm myself down but it’s hard. Hard to get out of my head. Out of this panicked state that I am in.

This is the first big anxiety attack that I can remember. I remember feeling very out of place. I felt like everything was out of my control. I remember trying to remind myself that everything was going to be okay. To breathe. Looking back I probably knew that this was all in my head, that I was not in any imminent danger. That this feeling would eventually pass.

Everyone’s anxiety is different but for me, it is a lot of thinking ahead of where I have to be. I do this to compensate for the fact that I do not like not knowing things. This is because anxiety is when the brain reacts to being anxious in the same way it does being afraid. For me, my brain also reacts to stress in this way. This is a way that I do not to be in when I am feeling anxious or stressed.

It is towards the end of benchmark season sophomore year. I am on my way to Geometry and I stop in the bathroom before class. I open the door of the dark blue stall. and sit down on the cold plastic seat. I notice that I feel a little shaky. I place two fingers on my chest and can feel my heartbeat pounding on my fingers. “Why am I anxious?” I think to myself. And at that moment I can’t think of a reason. This just makes me more panicked. “Why am I anxious,” I think again to myself more frantically. There must be a reason I can’t just be panicking for nothing right? This can’t just be random. I take a deep breath and remind myself that whatever this is it will be okay, that everything is fine. That no one is in danger. I take a deep breath and step out of the bathroom and walk to class.

If I could do anything to prevent these anxiety attacks I most definitely would. This one was less intense than the other one. Since it was during benchmark season it was probably more stress-induced rather than being anxious. This meant that I just had to take a step back to regather my bearings and then go on with life. This goes to show that not all anxiety attacks are heavy breathing and convulsing on the floor. Some can be so small that they almost go unnoticed, these overtime just become an annoyance in day to day life. Sometimes it can be a simple as a lump in my throat or my breath getting a little heavier.

Others of them cause a halt in your day to day activities. In times like these, my heart is beating out of my chest, and I feel like there’s nothing I can do about it. Either way, they are not fun to deal with. Do I like that I have to do deal with this? No, definitely not. Have I come to terms with the fact that I will have to deal with this for the rest of my life? Sort of. I know that it will not go away but I do know that there are ways to decrease feelings of anxiety and ways to feel more in control. To anyone else who deals with anxiety I know that it sucks but you will be okay. You will find ways to cope and it will get easier. I promise.

Introduction:

My goals for this essay were to write something that would really stick people and make them realize something and see things differently. I wanted it to be memorable for them and for the essay’s idea to develop into a bigger, deeper topic by the end. I am very proud of how the essay turned out, I think my theme ended up developing into something very interesting: objects, memories, and connection and I think the descriptive writing in my scenes really immerses the reader. Although I had a hard time coming up with my scenes as for some reason I couldn’t remember anything as soon as we were assigned to write about memory, I think the scenes fit into my essay well and take the readers by surprise as there is not much foreshadowing to what happens in them. For my next paper, I would like to improve how much analysis I have in my essay because even though I liked having my scenes, I could have written more analysis to really go even deeper on the theme.

Essay:

Frequently moving has left my house lacking in sentimental objects. I hold very few things at value as I’ve learned not to get too attached to them. The few items that I have that matter to me contain the story of my life, past, and family. At the same time, my memories have been the main thing that I have been able to take with me wherever I go.

In my house, I have a palm-sized alpaca, which is made from wire that can only be seen in the feet, where it is looped for each foot so it can stand up. It is covered in real fur, which is apparent by the smell that’s similar to that of a pine tree. Over the years some of the fur has fallen off, revealing the white leather beneath. The details of the face are made with black string sewn onto the leather in a caricature style noted by the big eyes. Placed around its neck is one of the decorations put on llamas’ ears, the size of a bracelet, which stands out by its bright green, yellow, fuchsia, and maroon colours.

I can still remember when I got my little alpaca. It was during one of our trips to the North of Chile, a few days before we traveled to Peru. Right when I saw it, I knew I had to have it. It became a real pet to me and I would take it everywhere with its yellow leash that I had made from yarn. After visiting Peru, we were afraid that on our plane ride back Chilean customs would confiscate it, thinking it had been made in Peru and brought to Chile. So, to get it across we hid it between our clothes and were able to safely get it back to its rightful home.

For many years, my alpaca had a special place in my room, where I could look at it and remember all it had taken for it to be where it was. As I grew older, I stopped paying as much attention to it, getting used to its presence. Years later, when I moved to Canada, I left my beloved alpaca behind. There it stayed for five years until I finally returned to Chile and rediscovered it, abandoned in an old box. Now that I live in the U.S., my alpaca has reclaimed its spot in my room, where I can fully appreciate and recall its story.

My memories from Chile are limited since I left when I was so young. It takes a lot for them to resurface and even then it almost seems like they were a dream and part of somebody else’s life. This is especially because the moments feel far away, and are mostly foggy to me. Most of what I remember are either small, random details or surreal, almost movie-like experiences, dramatized by my young mind. One of those moments shares a lot of similarities with the getting of my alpaca.

A year after the alpaca debacle, we were at the airport ready to travel again. Canape, my hamster was buzzing in his cage. He was grey with a dark stripe running along his backbone and crazed eyes almost bulging out of his head. We had no one to care for him while we were away, so we couldn’t leave him behind. I took him out of his cage and placed him in his travel box, his little whiskers wiggling as he took in the new scents around him. We knew that if we checked him in with the airline he would be put in the cargo hold of the plane and we were afraid he wouldn’t survive the trip.

We checked in our suitcases and it was time to go through security. My eyes trailed along the line of people placing all their belongings on the grey trays and preparing to pass through the tall metal detectors. Our turn came to be inspected. I looked back to my dad who had placed Canape’s cage in a bag, but the little grey ball of fur was nowhere to be seen. “You can go,” said one of the officers. I walked across the metal detector, fearing that it would ring even though there was no reason for it to. My parents both made it through without any alarm and as we started to get our things from the grey tray, my dad opened his hoodie pocket and inside two small eyes stared up at me, it was Canape.

Overtime, the stories my parents have told me of my childhood, have become so ingrained, they have become my own memories. This was one of the few events that I needed my mom to assure me that it had really happened. Almost like a movie or a TV show, it seems unreal. Because we lived far away from the rest of our family, we would visit frequently, mainly staying in my grandparents’ home. We would spend Christmas there, and wait until midnight to open our presents together. I have many memories like that from that house like how my cousins and I would hide under the long-legged bed and would light up whenever one of our parents gave us money to get candy from the store next door. The most memorable one though being a time that brought us closer than we ever thought we could be.

That night I remember not being able to fall asleep. We had just arrived to visit my grandparents after a long trip and I was sleeping in my dad’s old room. It was a small room with a twin-sized bed and some shelving whose outline could vaguely be seen. It was dark but the light from the window caught my attention. Through the curtains I could see as the streetlights lit the pavement, creating a shadow of the contents of the street within the room. Movement caught my attention. The telephone pole outside almost seemed to be vibrating, moving of its own accord. Was I just imagining this? I passed it off as me just being tired, closing my eyes and letting sleep wash over me…

“Wake up!” my parents jolted me awake. Rubbing my eyes I realized something was wrong. Everything was shaking. I could hear the voices of my uncles, aunts, and cousins outside the room. My parents pulled me up and took me downstairs where we found the rest of our family huddled in a corner in the living room. It was still really dark and I realized I must not have been asleep for that long. As I took in my surroundings, I realized it was shaking harder now and I could hear the breaking of glass as some of my grandmother’s decorative plates were falling. It was the only sound I could really hear other than the creaking of the wood of the house. I’d felt earthquakes before but never this bad, still fear never crossed my mind as my parents held me tight. There we stayed the whole night, in that corner, waiting for the shaking beneath our feet to come to an end.

My memory from that moment is still vivid and although I don’t get to see my family very often—in fact, I haven’t seen them in the last three years, which in and of itself seems bizarre—I still miss them and feel connected to them through my memories. Regularly moving from country to country has made me feel detached from places and people, like I’ve had four different lives and no deep-seated roots. My family is the one thing that has stayed constant and I know that they are always thinking of me just like I am of them. Being away, the most precious thing are those memories that even though they seem like a dream, they are the connection to my origins and childhood.

Introduction: My goals for this essay were to understand fear and for the reader to understnd fear. I am proud of my bigger idea. I think that my bigger idea is very detailed and gives enough of an explantion for the reader to understand. One way I would improve my essay is by formatting better.

Advanced Essay: It is a cold summer morning, in Ireland, the birds are chirping and I can hear the waves as they splash against the rocks. I was with my mom, brother, sister, and some extended family, we are planning on crossing this wooden bridge to get to an island. The bridge was wooden there is rope on each side holding the bridge up. Underneath the bridge is a huge drop in to the ocean and rocks. It was a windy day and the area was packed with tourists. As we wait in line I am thinking. What if the bridge breaks? What if the wind is too strong and I get knocked off? I am so nervous but I pull it together and continue waiting. While I wait I breathe in and out in and out. I can hear my heart rate go down. I finally get to the bridge, I cross slowly being very mindful of my surroundings. When I get to the other side I feel a lot of relief. I look around, I look at the grass,the sky and the ocean everything is so beautiful. The grass is so vast and untouched by any human. The sky was this light blue color. I was so amazed by the view. When me and my family head back we see a family crossing as I look up I see them jumping on the bridge. Suddenly my heart starts to get faster. I start to cry and worry about the worst things that could happen. My thoughts start to race. I say I can’t cross the bridge. I can’t get to the other side. My vision starts to get blurry and then I fall to the ground. Not being able to stand I lay there and start to breath, in out in out. I start to calm down, I get up and start walking. I look down and see my hand shaking as I grab onto the rope. I close my eyes and walk. When I opened my eyes I was back on the other side. In that moment I felt true relief. I felt fear that overwhelming emotion.

Fear is a very overwhelming emotion fear can make you do irrational things. Fear can make you have irrational reactions to situations. My personal experience with fear is one that involves me usually being anxious. When I am anxious I usually have a lot of thoughts racing through my head. Different scenarios that probably won’t happen but I can’t help but think they will.

Another experience I have with fear is this. I sit there parylazed with fear holding on to the tree for my life. I look out at the trees and the sky. It is a vast forest full of birds and other creatures. The sky is light blue and there are so many puffy white clouds. I can hear the ocean from a distance. I can hear the waves. I look down not realizing how high up we are. I finally turn around, I hear my mom yelling ,“go go”. I can't move, I start to zone out I hear my moms voice disappear slowly into the distance. I can finally think I can either zip line across or wait for someone to get me down. I wait, I look up then down then at my mom. She tries to get me to go, but I can't. I can't go knowing that I could possibly fall or worse. My thoughts are racing. I look at the line behind me waiting for me to go. I feel so bad for holding up these people. But I insist on still waiting for the person to get me down. Out of know where I see someone headed for me. Zipping through the trees. When he gets to me he tells me to get off the ledge. He switches my hooks and hooks me to the rope. He says he's got me. I push through my fear and let go. My hands are shaking as I step off the ledge. Then he starts to let the rope go and get me down. My eyes are closed the whole way down. When I feel the ground I opened my eyes. I feel so happy. I am so relieved to be on the ground touching the grass and being on a solid surface.

Fear is a very powerful emotion. In my personal experience fear has come up when I am anxious or nervous. Fear can impact your entire day, it makes you worry and overthink situations when there is no need to overthink. But there are coping skills to help you with it. One coping skill would be to breath in and out and to calm your mind down. You can use mindfulness to slow your mind and body down. It slows your body down by making you take a step back from the situation and breathe. This helps you slow your thoughts down and to be able to think clearly making your mindset turn into a more positive one. This helps you realize that this overwhelming emotion your feeling is just in your head and that it is just an emotion. An emotion that everyone experiences and has. Most people don’t realize this but thi powerful emotion is just an emotion and it is just in your head. When you realize this you can start to calm down reassure yourself that your okay, It is essential for others to turn negativity into positivity because it is important to maintain a happy life.