My Educational Experience Essay

My education began in first path in 1974. My state didnt mandate kindergarten, so my p arents didnt send me, scour though my br separates and infant went. It wasnt easy for me, because prepare was the first place I invariably got to interact with differentwise people, mainly children, as an equal.Before tutor started, I was pretty much kept indoors, and non on the wholeowed to urinate contact with another(prenominal) people, except for members of my own family. Being the youngest, I was looked down upon as knowledge base inferior, a deject class citizen, and basically, a big joke. During the first 5 course of studys of my life, I figured that was all I was entitled to, and nevertheless though I hated it, I persistd with it.In first grade, I had to interact with other kids for the first cartridge clip, which wasnt easy. I did stock-stilltually gibe that I could be an equal to them, and soon settled down into school. The spirit of education that first year wasnt b ad, I attained a lot and grew a lot during that year. I had great t severallyers too, who really gave me the armed service I needed.Second grade at that school was a assorted story though, I had a different teacher, who wasnt truly good, and seldom offered the help I needed. I was also treated like I was lower than the rest of the students. I dont kat once what her puzzle with me was, still it set me back a great deal, two academically and emotionally. When I needed help, it wasnt given and I was often ignored. She mat up that it wasnt worth it to help those students who needed it. Fortunately, my parents saw this and intervened, first exhausting to negotiate, then after that broke down, transferred me to another school.The current school was very different, creation more structured than the first, and beingnessness a boys school. When I started, I was behind in many ways due to the lines of my previous school, nevertheless I had a dedicated teacher who helped me catc h up the shell she could in a short time. I remember having troublesomeies with cursive writing, which my advanced teacher helped me with, only when giving me a crash course in it for a few weeks at recess either daylight. I did learn it, just nownever learned it well, and eer got poor marks in penmanship as a result. I dont taint her for that because she did the best she could under the circumstances.In other areas, I began to excel, often being on the value roll, being nonpareil of the top students in the class. In fact, my teacher was very surprised at how I had started the school behind, and had caught up and excelled. It was nice to be appreciated, both at home and school because I did so well, and it really felt good to accomplish something.I stayed at that school for all over 2 geezerhood, and had one day hoped to walk crosswise the stage and graduate from in that location. It never happened because while I was in one-fourth grade, for some unexplained reason, my parents, who had always respected this school, began to despise it. Among their complaints were I was always doing homework, the school is a playhouse, and they dont do anything, which I meant they offered few extracurricular activities, which was a true statement, hardly in my opinion, wasnt a problem. On one occasion, I was even picked on ab aside the chromatic uniforms we had to wear, which had been worn by my brothers at different schools with no complaints at all from my parents. They constantly harassed me knocking everything roughly the school and eventually, I gave in and agreed to go to another school, the same(p) school my child was attending.This stark naked school was totally different from the previous school. It was coed, the classes were larger, and seemed to put academics in lower regard than I was used to. I was also introduced to the c formerlypt of school spirit, the mindless blind following and support of your school regardless of what they do. I also le arned that being a boy who was not gymnastic was a serious strike against me, since they valued football and other sports over everything else. At my other school, we had always had textbooks that were current and up to date. At this new school, the books were often old and falling apart, if we were lucky enough to get one.During the plump for and last year I was thither, fifth grade, I was basically strained to support my sister in her school band activities, in severalize to showschool spirit, something I had no refer in. I was dragged to every single football game, which I didnt enjoy at all, and even worse, my parents often tried to make me praise her and tell her how much I enjoyed it, which I didnt. I would rather have stayed home taking it easy, than seance in the cold stands being blasted with wind and rain, as we sometimes had to endure. I was also dragged to parades she marched in, and often had to listen to her complain just about having to do it. My view was to ex ercise a little free forget and not worry about it, but was told, its a school activity. She make a choice to play in the band, why not live with the consequences.One other new experience I had there was being used for slave labor. Since I wasnt an athlete, I often worn out(p) P.E. periods picking up trash on the grounds, which many times, made me leave out afternoon classes. In spite of my parents complaints, this practice continued. Fortunately, I was taken out of that school, not because of my difficulties, but because of the poor teachers my sister was forced to endure.Sixth grade was my first and only year in Catholic school. What was really unnamed was we wore khaki uniforms, the same design I had worn only a year and a half forwards, that my let said were awful looking. I was also a baffling year partially because of the previous summer, which was fagged not doing things I liked, but having to go into the swimming pool frequent on my sister and mothers command. That summer was so embarrassing that I often couldnt look at myself in the mirror, because I felt like a puppet, dancing on my mothers and my sisters strings.That year was difficult because many of the students didnt accept me, because I was a transfer student, and I often felt like less of a person because of the humiliate summer I spent before. I also had a hard time press release to my parents, since the previous summer had showed me they didnt really superintend about how I felt or if I had a problem, but instead about forced conformity. It also seemed like my parents had something to prove to this school, which I dont understand. In one instance, I had to write about what I had done that day, and my mother was determined I would put no TV on thatpiece, because she wanted to show I didnt meet TV, which wasnt true. She does often lie to get what she wants and even when caught sees no problem with it, but give not tolerate anyone else lying to get their way. At the end of the sch ool year, my mother asked me if I wanted to have a swimming party for my class, to which I responded no. She went to my teacher and set one up anyway, which showed me how little my feelings meant to her. I didnt know how to swim, and had no interest in it, yet she would do anything to force me to swim, enjoy it, and even perpetrate my blameless life to it. I honestly believe her goal was to deflect everything from my life excluding school and swimming, a life I couldnt have survived.Seventh grade was another school I was sent to because of my sister, she was going there so I had to go there. I did not at all fit in, mainly because most of the students in my class had been expelled from other schools, and I hadnt. I also had incompetent teachers, many of whom were employed there solely, by the stars own admission, worked cheap. I was very depressing there, not only for these reasons, but because I was discriminated against not only at school, but at home as well.At school, our c lass was banned from many events, because of a few problem students. That didnt bother me much, but I also got discrimination at home. My sister would often botch up to people about how I spent my summers as her slave because I had to drop anything I wanted to do when she wanted to swim, and often had other students call me Igor after the hunchback assistant in the old abuse movies.If I ever said anything derogatory to or about my sister, I would be punished, yet she did all of these things to me, and even admitted to our parents she had done it, but was never punished. In fact, they often said that it was impossible for a girl to be bad, that only boys are bad. The school seemed to preach the same thing, in fact, she was once in a fight and there were no consequences, I was and was punished at school and at home. She should have been punished too but instead she was able to brag to my parents and everyone else about fighting, with no consequences.Another possibility of discrimi nation was with my sisters side of meat class and my Math class. We both had to deal with incompetent teachers, who were neither certified nor held degrees. The classes were impossible and we learned little. What our parents did was to go down to the school and arrange for her to get special treatment, meaning the principal would teach her personally, while I got nothing. I felt if she got out, why shouldnt I? When I said this, I got no answer, no discussion, other than Thats just the way it is. Fortunately, I only stayed one year at this school, which was more than enough. However, I wasnt out of the woods, I had to knock off another summer of forced swimming with my sister, which again, made my life miserable. ordinal grade was my first and only year in public school. My mother made numerous promises to me about how it would be better than anything else, but it wasnt. I was basically harassed again, for being a transfer student, and because my voice had changed before everyone e lses. A lot of the students constantly grunted at me to make fun of my voice, and secret code would do anything about it. My parents said it had nothing to do with my voice, but instead, was because I act goofy, yet would never explain to me what I did that was so bad. I was very miserable, I didnt know what to do, and suffered day in and day out, and many times, wanted to end my life. What finally brought down my life there was I didnt participate in an optional project for the accomplishment class, and as a result, my science teacher, the only teacher out of six, wouldnt recommend me for a gifted program, something my parents took very hard. Ever since, even now 18 historic period later, they call me uncooperative. I was also punished for the entire summer, being barred from TV, music, reading, and any other activity I make up pleasurable, being allowed nothing but swimming when my sister wanted me to because getting in that pool everyday will build you up until you are a hum an being again.My sister in the mean time attended public school, and also refused to activities she didnt want to do. She was downgraded by her English teacher for not doing some optional projects as well but was she punished, or course not. Our parents simply went to the school board, and got her grades changed, from C to A, and was given me as a swimming slave for the summer. Ididnt understand this, she gets a reward for her behavior, and I get punished. I guess my parents dont believe in punishing girls, I dont know.My sister went to college, but I ended up in another questionable Christian school. During my first year, I refused to be put through crank Hell Week, in which senior students are allowed to humiliate freshman for a whole week. To me, that sort of behavior had no business in school, and was faraway from the strict environment my parents told me it would be. What added insult to injury that year was when my parents saw the annual and pictures of Hell Week, my moth er actually said You should have gotten together with them and acted goofy. depression Im accused for allegedly acting goofy, and them Im criticized for not acting goofy. This makes absolutely no sense.My high school years werent very happy. My grades were ok, but I didnt like it at all. I was often picked on because I didnt do extracurricular activities, I didnt date, and basically thought there was a world beyond football, proms, and cheerleaders.The worst came my junior year, I was turned down for the honor society, and my parents at first, thought it was politics, then turned against me condemning me for having no personality, not being nice enough, participating in no activities, and not being glib, which has been an obsession of theirs ever since. They often condemned me for believing that school grades are ground on work, instead of personality, something I never understood, since I was nice and didnt make any trouble for anyone. My senior year was uneventful, thank goodnes s, and I was glad to be out of that place.Many people complain about the ineptness of our public schools and want vouchers and other initiatives to privatize education. My experiences tell me this will not work. Many of the private schools I went to were no better and even worse than public schools. The public school I attended had textbooks for each student I cant say that about a few of the private schools I was associated with. In addition, the excellent school I went to between second and forth grade is now closed, due to drop of enrollment,while the football school continues to stay in operation.My school years were very painful for me, not only for what I went through at school, for what I went through at home, where it was often preached, nothing matters but school and swimming. If I made poor grades, I was punished, but if my sister did the same thing, it was the schools fault. One day, I know I will completely heal of it all, but now, Im just running(a) towards that day. The answer is out there I just have to flummox it. Amen.