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Last year I was in the double advanced algebra class and the required grade was to maintain above a 85. I then proceed to bomb the Midterm and got 76. That brought my average down to a 82. I proceed to get a warning that if I couldn't get my grade back to above a 85 then I would be kicked out of the class.  I persevered through the rest of the quarter and then in the last quarter I got my act back together.  I then in the end got a 97% on the regents and in my head told all the people who told me to drop out "In your face".

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I remember one year for Christmas when I was 5 I wanted to make my parents presents.  But as a 5 year old I had no idea what qualified as a gift.  So one day at my grandparents I took a handful of paper plates and continued to make commemorative plates and "bowls". I got super hyped up that Christmas Eve and so I got up late at night and put my presents under the tree. When we woke up in the morning and I showed my parents their gifts and when they pretended to like them that triggered my love for the holidays.

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I have a vivid love for history to the point where I want to become a teacher. I believe that I can trace this back to my 4th grade teacher, Mrs.Bloom.  She was a nice woman but she was a strict one at that.  However I think that because of her teaching style of the native americans that really got me hooked on history.  I can remember during the beginning of the year I had heard a lot of rumors about this woman and I had some pre-judgment passed.  I remember having 4 or 5 breakdowns there in the middle of class and I would come home and breakdown at the table because I was so worried about my grades in the class.  None of these pressures about grades were put on me by my parents, I made these standards myself.

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A short history of American Indians in Old West Stories

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When I was in Ireland 3 or 4 years ago I was in Ireland.  I stay at my grandparents house.  They have a very large property because they have a farm where they raise cattle and sheep. They always have a bunch of cats running around the house and my grandmother would feed them and my grandfather would chase them out of the house with a pair of wellingtons. They had a piece of PVC pipe out back. One of these cats gave birth to a litter of kittens. I managed to shake a kitten out of the pipe and pick it up. I couldn’t get it off of me because it was clawing to my shirt and so I panicked and ran inside to my grandfather and yelled “ Look Grandpa, a cat”. He yelled back “ Drop that f%$@^r outside and clean yourself off."  I ran outside and dropped him and never touched that PVC pipe again.