Some people like to think that without a solid foundation, one cannot succeed in their later years. Well, here I am! Although you can’t be that surprised. Could you really expect nothing from me? I’ve handled some tough times, some of which made me stronger, and some that didn’t (I just couldn’t bear to conform 100% to that stupid generic half-truth). Through all of these I learned a lot about life, like how to handle certain situations, and I got a great example how how NOT to handle basically everything (happy Fathers’ Day!). I had a very unstable childhood, but it didn’t hold me back-only delayed my brilliant success a little bit. After all, we can’t just have instant gratification all the time, can we? Anyway, I was born in Ohio, in a town called Steubenville. You’ll have more questions, so I’ll paste a link to my entire life story so I can get a 49/50 on it. Actually, I won’t; I don’t have that kind of energy in a given day. I grew up in a God-forsaken corner of Oklahoma with my four brothers, older sister, mom, and crazy dad for company. He had plans to build a farm, which went nowhere (yes, even with yours truly on the job. I was great, but I was also a kid! Gimme a break!). Later, dogs, cats, chickens, and goats were added to the menagerie. I was forced to work all day doing pointless menial tasks, and not allowed to go to school. Since I was a little kid, I found this to be a benefit to my lifestyle, but looking back, I wish I had gotten education when I was young. Part of what I was going through shaped my habits as a good student and person, but I still missed out on a solid preparation. We were also in a bad financial situation, and my dad’s mood swings meant that none of us were really safe. My older sister and mom tried to educate me, so I learned basic math skills and reading, which I turned out to be excellent at, since I had no TV, movies, video games, internet, or anything else to entertain myself with. Twice a week, we would go into town to learn to play piano from a fantastic private teacher. All of us advanced very quickly and as my mom got to know her and her husband, she discovered they were social workers and they helped us get out of our situation. Eventually, my mom had had enough of my father’s shit, and with our teachers’ help, as well as that of her dad and brother (my grandpa and uncle) and flew to California, where we are now. Great! Now I can get a stable, reasonable education with real friends, right? Wrong. Our Lady of the Assumption: Your typical Catholic private school, made of bricks and stucco, equipped with technology that may have been acceptable in 1973. Cheesy excited messages adorn the bulletin board, which is one of the old ones that you need to arrange the letters in by hand. Looks pretty harmless on the outside, and the inside as well, even though the decorations were picked by old people who forget that it’s 2015 and no one really cares about the stupid Valentine’s dance. There’s also no air conditioning, and the heaters take so long to get working that by the time the room is warmed up, it’s too hot to keep them on. The teachers pretend to be excited to see you in the morning, but probably want to be there even less than you do. They’re okay in elementary school, until you get to sixth grade. The teachers in the middle school, aside from one or two, can’t control a class, have no sense of justice, overdo discipline about small misdemeanors (like telling your buddy where we even are in the text), and know little about what they teach; most have no credentials. They talk much and say little, and make every detail of your personal business their own, automatically feeling entitled to do so because there is a so-called “family environment” at this school. They then try to offer you advice, and if you don’t accept it, they’ll force it on you. In addition, they have absolutely no regard for the fact that all of the students have their personal problems, and have no tolerance for “disrespect” which is really voicing one’s own opinions and ideas-imagine that! Who’s the next principal, Big Brother? One teacher, who taught history and 7th grade, was charismatic and interesting to listen to, but mispronounced obvious words in the text all the time, added in numerous misconceptions about world history, and railed on students, trying to force them to change their personality and cutting down their self-esteem in angry bouts of yelling (it was always really funny when I sassed her and her voice cracked). Another had absolutely no control of her class and couldn’t teach to save her life, much less grade fairly. You can imagine, then, the excitement I felt receiving a simple letter informing me I had been drawn for entry into Foothill Technology High School (personally, I think they should have come to my house with a herald and trumpets, but I guess Freshman don’t get that whole do). I quickly filled out the attached paperwork, and got through the rest of my eighth grade year knowing things could only improve from now (and if you thought things couldn’t get worse at OLA, you were wrong. This place makes Hell look like your grandmother’s sitting room). Walking into the school on Orientation Day near the end of the summer felt like leaving a bad home forever, as did entering school for the first time in the year. Classes are challenging and engaging, teachers interesting and kind, the campus pleasant, and technology much more up-to-date. The people here are not judgemental and celebrate their differences, and the spoiled, self-important, childish, lazy kids like those from my old private school are few and far between. I know that things can only improve from here, and with the experience of not receiving an adequate education, I will value every further opportunity to better myself. Except for eating asparagus. Oh, no. Don’t go there.
Anyway, I was born in Ohio, in a town called Steubenville. You’ll have more questions, so I’ll paste a link to my entire life story so I can get a 49/50 on it. Actually, I won’t; I don’t have that kind of energy in a given day. I grew up in a God-forsaken corner of Oklahoma with my four brothers, older sister, mom, and crazy dad for company. He had plans to build a farm, which went nowhere (yes, even with yours truly on the job. I was great, but I was also a kid! Gimme a break!). Later, dogs, cats, chickens, and goats were added to the menagerie. I was forced to work all day doing pointless menial tasks, and not allowed to go to school. Since I was a little kid, I found this to be a benefit to my lifestyle, but looking back, I wish I had gotten education when I was young. Part of what I was going through shaped my habits as a good student and person, but I still missed out on a solid preparation. We were also in a bad financial situation, and my dad’s mood swings meant that none of us were really safe. My older sister and mom tried to educate me, so I learned basic math skills and reading, which I turned out to be excellent at, since I had no TV, movies, video games, internet, or anything else to entertain myself with. Twice a week, we would go into town to learn to play piano from a fantastic private teacher. All of us advanced very quickly and as my mom got to know her and her husband, she discovered they were social workers and they helped us get out of our situation. Eventually, my mom had had enough of my father’s shit, and with our teachers’ help, as well as that of her dad and brother (my grandpa and uncle) and flew to California, where we are now. Great! Now I can get a stable, reasonable education with real friends, right? Wrong.
Our Lady of the Assumption: Your typical Catholic private school, made of bricks and stucco, equipped with technology that may have been acceptable in 1973. Cheesy excited messages adorn the bulletin board, which is one of the old ones that you need to arrange the letters in by hand. Looks pretty harmless on the outside, and the inside as well, even though the decorations were picked by old people who forget that it’s 2015 and no one really cares about the stupid Valentine’s dance. There’s also no air conditioning, and the heaters take so long to get working that by the time the room is warmed up, it’s too hot to keep them on. The teachers pretend to be excited to see you in the morning, but probably want to be there even less than you do. They’re okay in elementary school, until you get to sixth grade. The teachers in the middle school, aside from one or two, can’t control a class, have no sense of justice, overdo discipline about small misdemeanors (like telling your buddy where we even are in the text), and know little about what they teach; most have no credentials. They talk much and say little, and make every detail of your personal business their own, automatically feeling entitled to do so because there is a so-called “family environment” at this school. They then try to offer you advice, and if you don’t accept it, they’ll force it on you. In addition, they have absolutely no regard for the fact that all of the students have their personal problems, and have no tolerance for “disrespect” which is really voicing one’s own opinions and ideas-imagine that! Who’s the next principal, Big Brother? One teacher, who taught history and 7th grade, was charismatic and interesting to listen to, but mispronounced obvious words in the text all the time, added in numerous misconceptions about world history, and railed on students, trying to force them to change their personality and cutting down their self-esteem in angry bouts of yelling (it was always really funny when I sassed her and her voice cracked). Another had absolutely no control of her class and couldn’t teach to save her life, much less grade fairly.
You can imagine, then, the excitement I felt receiving a simple letter informing me I had been drawn for entry into Foothill Technology High School (personally, I think they should have come to my house with a herald and trumpets, but I guess Freshman don’t get that whole do). I quickly filled out the attached paperwork, and got through the rest of my eighth grade year knowing things could only improve from now (and if you thought things couldn’t get worse at OLA, you were wrong. This place makes Hell look like your grandmother’s sitting room). Walking into the school on Orientation Day near the end of the summer felt like leaving a bad home forever, as did entering school for the first time in the year. Classes are challenging and engaging, teachers interesting and kind, the campus pleasant, and technology much more up-to-date. The people here are not judgemental and celebrate their differences, and the spoiled, self-important, childish, lazy kids like those from my old private school are few and far between. I know that things can only improve from here, and with the experience of not receiving an adequate education, I will value every further opportunity to better myself. Except for eating asparagus. Oh, no. Don’t go there.