The New Kid

Nobody ever wants to be the new kid. When they walk into class that first morning, they’re the only thing everyone sees. They are the center of attention whether they like it or not. Constantly, people are introducing themselves. Constantly, people are asking, “Hey, are you the new kid?” or while pointing, they say to their friend, “Hey… is that the new kid?” The new kid never gets any time alone, because teachers are always wondering whether they’ve learned what they’re talking about. The new kid is piled with this year’s textbooks and loaded with papers on their first day. A lot of the times, the new kid is the one staring at their schedule, looking around them as people flood by them heading to their next class while the new kid wonders, “Where the heck is my next class?”

Guess what? I’m that new kid. I’ve experienced every. single. one. I’ve been called the new kid probably about a billion times, and I’ve walked up to someone saying, “Um… I’m new here and uh… do you know where room 52 is?” On my first day of school, I was escorted to my first class, then as soon as I walk in, I have to write a three paragraph essay on what my winter break was like and what the most memorable event was. My day got better as it progressed and I found that I loved all of my teachers. But my first period is a little weird. This past Wednesday, he broke into a Tai Chi Battle with a student. No joke.

I’ve decided to be part of the science fair even though I won’t be for a grade, and I’ve joined the chess club. I’ve been asked about 10,000 times if I’ve made friends, and the answer is yes. I definitely have kept in touch with my Arizona friends and it’s fun to e-mail back and forth about a bunch of really silly stuff with my friends elsewhere (I don’t like to call them my old friends, because they’re still my friends).  Long story-short, I REALLY like Santa Cruz.

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