The First Quiz--Sam

        As I entered my first grade classroom, various emotions flowed through my mind. New school, new friends, new language, think positively— I said to myself.  A tall, skinny lady with short blonde hair, smiled at me asking me for my name. Her name was Mrs. M. On the first week of school, Mrs. M passed out a sheet with words that seemed like hieroglyphics to me at the time. “These are definitely not in Spanish,” I thought. Thirteen different arrangements of letters neatly typed one under the other after a number. She called them vocabulary words. I didn't quite understand every single word she said, and the fact that I was a shy little six year old in a new school without a basic understanding of English didn't help very much. I recall writing down as many words as I could even though I had no idea what they meant.

       One day I walked into class like any other normal day.  As soon as the bell rang Mrs. M passed out a blank piece of paper and she told us to write our name at the top, number each line from one to fifteen and write 'quiz' at the top. At the moment I had no idea what this meant. When everyone was done, all of a sudden she said some random strange word. The room was silent. I bravely raised my hand asking how to spell that word. Everyone looked at me as if I just took candy without eating my vegetables first. Secretively, the teacher whispered in my ear—in Spanish— that she couldn't help me with that since we were getting graded in how well we could spell and just told me to do my best. That was when the panic started. I felt like the little people inside my mind started panicking  trying to look for a solution to the problem, just like in that spongebob the episode I watched the night before. I simply did not not care, I was never one of those kids. I started trying to figure this word out, trying different combinations of letters in different orders that could possibly be the correct answer. My breathing started to increase gradually until I just couldn't take it anymore. Tears started rolling down my cheeks onto the paper. My silent crying eventually became a strong sob mixed with whining, mucus and interrupted breaths. I wanted to leave and never come back. I wanted everything to make sense. I wanted to quit English.

        This time my classmates didn't bother to look at me. Silently, Mrs. M kneeled down next to my desk and began to spell out each word, carefully guiding me through and making me repeat each vowel and consonant after the other in this new language I tried to understand. When the bell rang indicating the beginning of recess, Mrs. M called my name and asked me to go over to her desk. “It's okay to ask for help,” she said. We agreed to meet during recess to go over content that I didn't understand throughout the day. She also gave me the opportunity to retake the first quiz. I earned a perfect score. By the end of the year, I was one of the best students her class. I ended up learning English for the rest of my life. English is now part of my daily life.“It's okay to ask for help.” This phrase taught me that I can accomplish my goals, if I dedicate the time and ask for help, specifically in areas that I struggle. I may sometimes feel the urge to quit whenever something is out of my comfort zone; however, knowing that I'm not alone and there are people willing to help me succeed, motivate me to try harder and do better.