Descriptive Essay

Cylene Wallace

Mr. Neuburger

ENG 101-101

28 February 2013

Descriptive Essay

The First Day

            Finding myself unemployed and nearing the half century mark I was forced to make a decision. I had thought about going back to school many times, but something seemed to always get in the way, mostly fear. I began to ask myself if this could finally be my time and whether   Cylene could find the courage to conquer community college classes. The preparations were made and, with the first day fast approaching, I felt a rollercoaster of emotions.

            Time is a thief, which is proven by my aged skin and body, but inside I was still the same little girl who couldn’t sleep the night before the first day of school. I could almost hear my grandmother telling me to go to sleep and don’t trouble your little peanut head over the problem.

            There have been countless numbers of dreaded Mondays in my lifetime. Rainy, sunny, hot, and cold but I was sure this particular Monday would prove to be one I would not soon forget. My stomach was filled with fear and nausea, but somehow found the courage to leave my safe haven and venture out into the unknown. As I headed out to my silver car my legs felt like large stone slabs.

            Driving to school everything seemed to be intensified. Traffic was heavy, car lights were so bright they were almost blinding. Sitting at the red stop light I must have gotten lost in my thoughts only to be brought back to reality by the honking horn of the car behind me. Dreading my first day,  it was as though I arrived at the school quicker than usual, even though I had taken the same route many times before. As foreign as it seemed, I realized I was still in America by the big flag blowing in the wind.

            Walking into the large mysterious brick building I felt like a fish out of water. There were excited voices buzzing like a beehive with the rushing around of people, mostly young adults, rude and bumping into me. They too, seemed to be lost, struggling to open doors with heavy book bags in hand.  I wondered if they could possibly be as scared as me. It reminded me of something I had seen in a movie, but this was no movie.

            With fear and nausea increasing with every step I took, somehow I managed to find my classroom. My legs were shaking so badly I was not sure if I would be able to make it to a chair. Here I was lost in a sea of nameless faces, and wondered if I could possibly belong? I remembered having this feeling before on my first day of kindergarten. The difference today being I had a car and could leave on my own; I wouldn’t have to wait for Grandma to come get me.

            Class began with role call as classes normally do. Under my breath I sarcastically thanked my mother again for not spelling my name with a K. She is always an easy target when I am scared and angry. We were instructed to log onto our computers and create some sort of digital portfolio. I looked at my instructor like he was talking in some sort of alien tongue. I was wondering to myself, “What on earth am I doing here?” almost certain I did not belong. I had to keep reminding myself to breathe, try to relax, and dig down deep to find the courage to pull this off. My palms were sweaty and beads of perspiration started running down my forehead. By this time I was looking at the computer screen with a stare as blank as a page from my notebook. Could this be the stench of failure?

Always having a taste for the fruit of knowledge, I realized eventually that this would not be a failure. While humility has hard lessons, it may be quite healthy. Standing on solid ground, I somehow found the courage to keep going back to the class. I am happy that I have the opportunity to go back to school. I would never have thought in a million years that I would create a blog account and be blogging, but here I am almost two months later feeling more comfortable with it, and it’s all because one teacher planted the seed of wisdom.

            Most days I now find myself enjoying going to English class. Although I still struggle with some, if not most, of my computer skills, I have made significant improvements. No longer hanging my head like a dying flower, I hold my head up and smile, determined not to be conquered by my fear. I now look forward to finding out what the next eight weeks has in store for me.