Written By: Reanna Fomby Reporter
All four years of high school at Waynesboro High School are what I’d like to call overrated. Now it might not be someone else’s opinion about the situation, but it is mine. The first day in high school was a situation I did not know how to handle at the time. I had grown an imagination from TV shows about bullies who would steal your lunch money and stuff you in lockers, or those teachers who didn’t even look at your paper they just put a big fat F on it because you forgot to write your name. I wasn’t ready for any of that.
My first year of high school was not the best. I don’t really remember any of my classes or any of my teachers. But I do remember one thing. My first day in journalism. I thought it was going to be easy because it was a writing class. I later found out that the class would drag me down a dirt road just for the fun of it. I feel that journalism is not on how good you can write the best article, but about being timely. I didn’t turn in anything on time. I was a slacker. Plus if you add my low self esteem then it all just didn’t fit. My 9th grade year was bad. I was made fun of by my peers for the clothes I wore and my different hair styles. High school seemed to me as a bad place. I do remember one thing that I did find had an effect on my life. I was selected to go on a program called CYCLE at Virginia Tech, after the shooting, for a week to learn about leadership and how to lead my peers in the right direction. I fell in love with different people, their ways of living, and their ways to communicate. I later found that that week not only helped me with leadership but my strong communication with people. I learned more than I can image and I still have the t-shirt. That week made a big effect on my life.
The school year ended bad and on a terrible note. I thought I had failed journalism but It turns out that I passed with C- , but I wasn’t worried because I had the idea that I wasn’t going back to journalism at all. My mother had another thing in mind. I did fail Algebra though.
Small details about my tenth grade year. Nothing exciting happened. I was still being made fun of but not as bad as ninth grade. I didn’t fail Math because I had a great teacher who later retired and left me hanging on a limb. I thought without her I would truly fail. I took journalism for my second year. I wasn’t happy about that choice so I slacked a little, making it hard for myself. But I did receive a B- which means I did something right.
Now eleventh grade was when my school grades and life began to take a downward spiral. I had great teachers like Mrs. Coyner or Mrs. Moore but didn’t know how to respect them. I became bitter. I was taking Journalism for the third year. Not because of my mom but because of me. I have to admit that journalism had me wrapped around its finger. I loved to write and I loved when people read my articles. It didn’t have to be more than two people who read them, but I was happy somebody knew me as a reporter.
All I remember about eleventh grade was me being lazy. I didn’t get sent out of any classes but Spanish. I had a strong dislike for Spanish. I didn’t see why I had to learn it when I wasn’t going to speak it. So while the class did their work I would be lazy and draw an ugly picture. I would constantly argue with Mrs. Moore because at the time I wasn’t looking for a friend or a teacher to be my friend. Plus I loved to make her butter melt. I would always walk out of class when I felt it was necessary and always make a fool of myself. Then there was Mrs. Coyner’s class. I was a smart talker with her too. She put up with me and took my mouth for a ride of its life. I couldn’t out talk that lady for a second but later I learned that she cared about my education more than I did.
During 11th grade I adopted a sickness call hyper active thyroid. At a young age. Yes. It’s when your thyroid becomes bigger than its normal size and spits out hormones that I didn’t need at the time. It was creating more blood cells then I needed and I was becoming weak. I was never on track with life, I was always behind and things weren’t right. I couldn’t catch up with anything; my thyroid was six times its normal size. I thought it was going to bust open while I was in class but it never did. I would cry every night because of this sickness. Operate is what they wanted to do. My mom said, “Yeah, right,” and walked out. During this time I was having difficulties with many things. It didn’t make school any better than it was. I failed Spanish, chemistry, history, geometry, and barely passed journalism. With the grades I had I was not going to graduate. Plus I had those people telling me that I never would. That was much worse. Eleventh grade was a school year of bad happenings and it felt like the end of my life. But, hey, who said I couldn’t do what I put my mind to?
I ended up having to take summer school for math which I received a scholarship for which was a miracle. I later moved up to the 12th grade I didn’t want to repeat the 11th grade, so this year I went to Phoenix and worked my hardest and received the credits I needed. I had gained a mentality to not let anyone tell me what I couldn’t do. I was able to do what I put my mind to. I was able to buy my cap and gown and when I bought it I knew that my graduation was written in stone. I feel in love with myself and pressed myself to become an achiever. With the help of some of my peers telling me I couldn’t make it I felt much stronger. I feel like a champ because I made it. It took a while for me but I did it. I do thank those who told me that I could make it. I did stay in journalism and this is my forth year and I do plan to pursue journalism in college. I hope I have made a point in my column. I have learned that mothers are always right and that with the right mind anything is possible. All you need is love for yourself and your dreams. With that kind of mentality I made it by a hair and then some.
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