Personal Narrative Speech

Foolish or Creative

As everyone was, I was once a naïve child. I was very active and made many accidents. The problem was that I was hyperactive: I couldn't stop making accidents with my extraordinary thinking. For example, I once jumped off from second floor, believing that I can fly! Moreover, I even decided to dye my hair red and green thinking they are cool… which actually resulted in a watermelon look. Anyway, because of my bizarre behaviors, my parent thought of me as one of two: foolish, or something else. This continued, until they finally made the decision due to an incident.

The story begins in my first grade classroom. I don’t remember specifically, but I’m sure that the teacher taught us about sea animals, because our teacher decided to decorate our classroom with sea animals shortly after the class. Once the teacher made her decision, she ordered us to make our favorite sea animals with color papers, by tomorrow.

After school, I wondered what my favorite sea animal was. Even though I learned so many of them that morning, I thought none of them were cool enough to be my favorite. (Well, being cool was my priority at that time) Suddenly, one specific ‘sea animal’ flashed through my mind. It was smart and importantly, very cool. Also, I had seen it often on TV shows. Without hesitation, I started creating this animal.

What came to your mind when I said “very smart, very cool, and often shown on TV?” I believe most of you thought of dolphin. Yes. They are smart, and there are many dolphin shows. But my favorite ‘sea animal’ was not dolphin. It was a very soft organism, and had little spots on its body. It is yellowish, and has unique body structure. Still don’t get it? Here’s the last hint: it wears square pants and lives in a pineapple. Yes. What I brought to the teacher was a “SpongeBob”

Its sounds quiet funny, isn't it? The problem was… that I was really serious with my creation. At this time, I really believed SpongeBob was a living organism. Also, I thought there was some of wild “SpongeBobs” living under the ocean.

Teacher thought I had serious problems with my thinking, so she tried to diagnose my problem by asking questions.

“How come you thought SpongeBob is real?” She asked me.

“Because it’s real! I even have one in my home!”

“Then, where is it?” She asked me with a “What are you talking about” face.

“My mother uses him to wash the dishes everyday”

“Are you talking about sponge?”

“Yes. Sponge is dead body of SpongeBob, and we use them to wash dishes.” I concluded.

Even I, have no idea where this idea came from. But due to this conversation, teacher alleged that I was rather foolish, or was affected too much by TV.

Later, when the school had an official parent-teacher meeting, my teacher broached this topic, and said there should be correction to my wrong thinking. She even assumed that I was sitting in front of TV most of days. Well, even though this assumption was entirely correct, my parent had different ideas: They rather chose to believe that my actions were of natural creativity. Also, they started encouraging me to think, and to live more freely.

This memory of SpongeBob itself wasn't really important. It was just a silly happening. However, the decision my parent made due to SpongeBob had big impact on me. I’m not sure whether this decision made me more creative or not; but I’m sure it made me become who I am now. What would have happened, if my parent adopted the teacher’s idea and thought me as a slow, unintelligent kid? I would have lived in suppressed environment to become a structured child, and lost my own thinking skills. I might have studied better, but I would never been satisfied with myself.

For these reasons, I really appreciate this piece of memory.

Thank you for listening. 

In class essay ①-Personal Narrative

How I Changed

Have you ever heard of a city Dalian? It’s one of the huge cities in China, but is rather unknown compared to such metropolises like Beijing or Shanghai. Well, it isn't far from here, because it only takes an hour for us to get there by a flight. I know this, because I rode uncountable numbers of flight to this exotic city, in order to get back home. Yes. I lived in this foreign city before, and it wasn't a short visit. In fact, it was 5 years of my 17 year life. At there, I sometimes suffered, and sometimes felt happy. Well, I still cannot determine whether I was happy living there or not. However, one thing is sure: I would not have been a person who I am now, if I hadn't had chance to live there.

           It was in my fourth grade, when I had to forcefully move to Dalian. It was a hard experience. First of all, I had to leave all my friends I knew since I entered elementary school. Also, living in an environment where I cannot talk to made me nervous, and stressed. There were school problems too. Most of school there provided worst education possible (they were teaching Alphabets to 6^th graders. More shockingly, it was an international school). Only if I failed to enter DAIS (Dalian American International School), I would've become an idiot. However, by entering DAIS, I got “chances” to think freely and creative, chances to stack whole lots of knowledge, and also a chance to become fluent at English and Chinese. The only problem was that, I just tend to “only” play days after days, not even trying to utilize these chances.

            It was about one and a half years from my entrance to DAIS that I faced a significant day in my life. On that day, the mood of my house was strangely harsh, and heavy. I did not realize anything, until I saw my mother taking out a paper that resembled my report card. Well, it actually was my report card, which recorded several Cs on it. This proved that I was absolutely enjoying my life at DAIS in somewhat wrong way. Even at that point, I didn’t understand the seriousness of the situation. I had no idea what was wrong. Rather, I hated the condition when I was scolded by my parents for several hours. Shortly after that, I left the place with great anger on my face, and headed to my room.

           And that very night on about 3’O clock, I woke up to have some relief at bathroom. But by a chance, I heard sound coming out from my parent’s room. Not a sound that I have heard for several years; it was sound of sadness. My mother was crying. It wasn’t loud, but I could absolutely feel the mood. She was talking about me, but not in a reproachful mood, but rather in worrisome tone. She said things, which I couldn’t really understand fully at that time. Yet, I unquestionably felt, that I should not make her sad any longer.

Miracle happened, and I started utilizing all the chances I had been ignoring. As a result, in several years, I evolved, becoming an outstanding feature of DAIS. It was at this moment, that I eventually noticed one touching truth: My parents were devoting everything to me and my brother. They had to give up their preparation for old age by sending us both to international schools. My mother spent her own time to get all the possible information needed to raise us. Mostly, she had to endure immatureness of me until I stood up by myself.

Neglecting these memories, I can possibly say only one word:

“Thank you, and Sorry Mom.”