'Are you new?' is the single worst question to deal with at a new school. 'This question represented my loneliness, my sadness, and my silence. This question represented me,' says doctor erin dietel-mcLaughlin.
'Are you new?' is the single worst question to deal with at a new school. 'This question represented my loneliness, my sadness, and my silence. This question represented me,' says doctor erin dietel-mcLaughlin.
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'Are you new?' is the single worst question to deal with at a new school. 'This question represented my loneliness, my sadness, and my silence. This question represented me,' says doctor erin dietel-mcLaughlin.
Copyright:
Attribution Non-Commercial (BY-NC)
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Download as DOCX, PDF, TXT or read online from Scribd
Doctor Erin Dietel-McLaughlin Writing 13200 31 August 2011 A Journey Alone? 'Are you new? ask any new student; they`ll say that this is the single worst question to deal with at a new school. I cringed at this question being asked it by teachers or classmates. This question represented my insecurities. This question represented my social status. This question represented my loneliness, my sadness, and my silence. This question represented me. A mixture oI Ieelings Iilled my body as I walked into the main entrance oI the building, among them excitement, nervousness, amazement, and anticipation were among them. Walking up the stairs, I could hear the reverberating echoes oI my shoes announced my arrival. New and strange Iaces Iilled the narrow hallway aIter the bell announced the Iirst period oI the day. Shouts turned to hushed voices as students scurried away to class and meet their teachers. 'Why do I have to be here? I murmured to myselI. Then I remember this is how it will be Ior the next Iour years. Four years oI the trying to Iit in. Four years oI trying to make Iriends. Four years oI Iinding my place in the midst oI high school cliques. Moving to a new city would be a shock Ior any normal teenager on the verge oI starting high school. Beyond the initial shock was Iear; I was scared oI not Iitting in and scared oI not being liked by anyone. I wasn`t the outgoing type who would be recognized easily, with Iriends in every room. I was a shy Iourteen-year-old girl who had spent most oI her liIe in a shell Iilled with cousins, aunts, uncles, and other Iamily. My Iriends were my cousins with whom I had been Feinanuez Soto homeschooled. I spent my Iirst eight educational years learning and studying with my cousins, the people I had been raised with, who I saw and played with everyday. My elementary school career would have been an endless recess iI it weren`t Ior our three special teachers, Aunt Soledad, Uncle Renzo and our Iavorite uncle, Beto. Uncle Beto always made learning Iun in his own way. At the young age oI IiIty-nine, he would play hopscotch with the girls while teaching the numbers up to two hundred. OI the children, I was the closest to my Uncle Beto, and he considered me his daughter. My grade school career consisted oI comIortable bliss, with a second dad Ior my teacher and cousins Ior Iriends. With them, I wrote my Iirst short story in third grade and solved algebra problems in seventh grade. My home was my school and my school was my home. On this day, the Iirst day oI high school, things couldn`t have seem more diIIerent. In my Iirst class, computer`s class, the teacher asked everyone to sit down in any available chair. Chaos ensued; chairs were pushed against each other as kids scrambled Ior the best seats, the ones with the computer Iacing opposite oI the teacher`s desk. Friends greeted each other. Seats Iilled quickly. I grabbed a chair as Iar away Irom the teacher as I could in order to avoid her personal questions. (That`s another tiresome aspect oI being the new girl, being interrogated with well- intended yet uncomIortable questions) A quirky girl sat next to me, but she Iocused on her Iriend to the right, a boy named Kaleb. Kaleb was a very short boy with reddish orange hair who seemed as shy as me. AIter talking to Kaleb, the girl, Kali turned around and shyly said hi. I muttered a greeting in return, but she kept the conversation going by asking my name and where I was Irom. I hesitantly responded to her questions, yet she still continued. I was pleasantly surprised to notice that she barely asked personal questions like why I moved Irom the my last Feinanuez Soto school. In the middle oI the conversation Kaleb cut in and started to talk about his Iamily and his Iavorite hobbies. He loved soccer with a passion and told us about his Iavorite players, Brazilian Ronaldino an the American star Donovan. By the end oI the hour, Kali and Kaleb had told me about their Iamilies, their hobbies and passions. And by the end oI the hour, I had told them about my Iamily and my own interests to do. I was momentarily stunned by my spontaneous revelations to two complete strangers. Being the new kid in a group oI people who have been Iriends since kindergarten was intimidating and Irightening. I was scared that Iirst day oI high school, because my experience with my cousins taught me that people who have grown up together end up sharing every little moment in their lives; Irom the happiest to the darkest moments. They know each other`s weaknesses and strengths, each other`s needs and wants. High school Iriends travel in packs and meeting one member oI a certain pack sometimes meant having to meet Iive or more people at once. I was never talkative when interacting in groups, and I would always let people talk in order to avoid being noticed. There`s a saying that 'Friends come and go but Iamily is Iorever. My Iamily will stay with me Iorever, but during my Ireshman year at Avon High School I met two people who will also stay with me Iorever. Two people who would be there whenever I had a question about the AP Biology plant test, two people who would be there listening to my poor French accent. I didn`t make Iriends that Ireshman year; I made Iamily. Kali and Kaleb made me realize that I didn`t have to be alone.