Memoir

I remember my first day of middle school. Not at my old boring middle school in Maryland where everyone already knew each other from kindergarten including myself. I mean my first day of school at Kadena Middle School. Kadena Middle School was very foreign to me. The school is located on the small island of Okinawa, a prefecture of Japan. I felt out of place and I wasn’t sure what to do or how to feel. I stood in the middle of the courtyard for ten minutes feeling more lost than ever before. Already late for class, I felt no urge to find my way to the social studies room. Finally, I mustered the courage to make my way to class. I knocked on the door as gently as possible, half-hoping no one would answer. Just my luck. A tall man with a patchy mustache and a big smile on his face opened the door.

“Please, come in, come in!” He moves aside and I see the whole class staring at me.

A boy with the face of mischief locked eyes with me. He emanated evil and I would soon find he was. I put my large backpack under my assigned desk and was called to the front by the teacher, who I learned goes by Mr. Sugay.

“Hello! What is your name, young lady?”

“Um, Isabella Moreno” The most terrible string of words left his mouth in the next moment. They filled me with anxiety and grief

“Now tell the class about yourself!” I slowly turned and faced the class, water filling my eyes. What type of sick, twisted monster would do that to a shorter-than-average, anxiety-filled, young child? Forced to speak, I told the class about myself.

“I-um- am from Maryland. I-uh- like gymnastics -uhm- and I play the violin.” I felt my legs shaking under me. Thankfully, Mr. Sugay saw the fear in my eyes and sent me to my seat.

“Thank you very much, Isabella! We are all glad you are here!” I looked over at the mischievous kid from before and I sensed that Mr. Sugay wasn’t entirely correct.

School moved fast. Much of it was a blur. I speed-walked through the halls with purpose. My purpose was to avoid everyone and avoid any sort of interaction as efficiently as possible. I finally got to breath when I got to band class. Before this goes any further, I do not play a band instrument. As mentioned before, I play the violin. I think we can all see the problem here. Ms. Brown is a tall woman, who towered over my 4’10” stick-like body.

“Hello! Who are you?” she speaks in a booming voice. I’m confident each word shook my very being. Overall, an intense lady.

“My name is Isabella Moreno and I am new he-”

“Oh yes!” she rushed to her messy desk and collects music books and sheet music. Handing them to me, I looked up in confusion, “I play the violin. This is Oboe music.”

“Band doesn’t have any violin music, sorry honey. Take a seat over there.” She pointed to a seat at the very end of the flute section. I sat down, got my violin out, and tuned. Looking around, the band was staring straight at me. Blood rushed to my face and I looked back down at my violin. How fun.

Lunch was finally upon us and I rushed to the cafeteria, right across from the lunch room, band kids had the advantage. I purchased soggy pizza and chocolate milk. I searched around the room and realized it was futile because I knew no one. I ate at a table all alone. It was one of my most pitiful moments, I would like to boast.

After lunch, I headed to ELA: English Language Arts. A woman with red hair and a face that was both tight and wrinkly was to be my teacher. She sat me in a seat close to the front and taught normally. Thankfully, she decided to basically ignore me and just give me my make-up work at the end. It really is too bad I ended up despising her.

Finally, I got to Math. I was met with a rotund man with a glass eye and a slight limp. I would come to learn he has a small stutter as well. “Mr. Cordova.” he introduced himself and put his hand out for a hand-shake.

“My name is Isabella and I am new here. Is this mat-”

“This is math s-six.” he announced. He sat me down at a small desk all to myself. He made his way to his desk and plopped a generous stack of tests and quizzes. I sat for the rest of the school day doing test 1.1 to 4.1. In the background, I heard others yelling at each other and making fun of the teacher. I could tell these kids weren’t my type of people.

The bell finally rang and I made my way to the bus I thought was mine. My brother joined me and we rode in silence for the whole bus ride. The stop that was printed on my bus pass was announced and we got off the bus. As it drove away, my brother and I realized we did not recognize where we were at all. We sat together for a long while unsure what to do. Eventually, a boy my age gave us his phone to call our parents. I vaguely described our surroundings and gave the phone back.

A small Suzuki Lupin came to pick us up.

My mother quickly apologized, “I’m sorry you guys were out there for so long”

“It’s fine” my brother and I replied in unison. We went back to the hotel we were staying in and I got to think about how I felt about everything.

I didn’t really enjoy my first day and I didn’t think I would enjoy much of the coming days. I did know however that things would get better, and they did. I my sixth grade year was very tough but my ninth grade year was my favorite school year of my life. I am very thankful for my parents’ decision to move because it has changed my in the best way and I have learned a lot about myself and other people.