After waving goodbye to my mother, I stood on the steps of the large brick building, contemplating it. It was the largest school I had ever attended. I finally walked up the stairs, clutching my homeroom notification letter in my sweaty palms. My schoolbag, filled with new binders, pens, and notebooks shook as I nervously hurried to Homeroon 335.
Having attended Catholic schools for most of my life, Boston Latin Academy, a large public school, was a big shock to my system. Looking around my homeroom, I saw a mix of Black, White, Asian, and Hispanic people. Coming from predominantly black schools, I had never seen so many races together before outside of movies. I was amazed and afraid of my surroundings. I had heard from so many people about the horrors of public school, whether it was full of intelligent kids or not. I expected wild screaming, hair-pulling fights, and obscenity. I expected unconscious segregation because I had never seen so many different kids before. I expected the worst, but I got the best experience I could ever have.
Wary and waiting for vulgarity, I shyly introduced myself and was promptly shocked by the immediate smiles and waves I received in return. I looked at all of the freshman seated together, in the same style of clothes I was wearing, with the same type of bag I was carrying, and the same type of hairstyle I had. These kids weren't any different than me, no matter their race or where they went to school.
In my classes, many of the first exercises were introductions. Several times, I had to recount my favorite movie, book, or song after clearly pronounicng my name until it was someone else's turn to do the same. In these exercises, I found similarities with all of my classmates. Although we had very different names which were sometimes hard to say, we read the same books, ate the same food, listened to the same music, and watched the same movies. And at lunch, I discovered that we sat at the same tables. I marveled at this diversity- marveled at all the different cultures and languages. That first day, I tried to take in as much as I could, swallowing the mannerisms of my classmates like water, only to ask for more.
My first year of high school threw me into an environment I had never before encountered. After some hesitation, I loved it. Here, I learned to shed the stereotypes holding me back from interacting with my classmates and enjoy the new sense of diversity my school embodied. Shedding my preconceptions and allowing myself to be immersed in diversity changed me for the better. Now, I easily accept and welcome anything and everything new because I never know what I might learn from it. After four years of those introduction exercises, I can always find a way to relate to someone and learn to look deeper into the impressions. After blithely stereotyping my classmates before I knew them, I know to be above my stereotype so that someone would look deeper into my first impression. My first year at Latin Academy changed me into someone who doesn't judge, scold, or preach. It changed me into someone who simply listens and cares.
My schoolbag filled with new binders, pens, and notebooks shook as I nervously hurried to Homeroom 335. (Remove comma after schoolbag)
I expected the worst, but I got the best experience I could have asked for.
These kids weren't any different than me, no matter their race or where they previously went to school.
really good essay, i like the conclusion.
