student example personal narrative

Editor's note: Rebecca recorded this piece for Vermont Public Radio in the summer of 2007 as part of the YWP/VPR "My Life" series. Do you have a story about your life? Do you want to be on radio? For more, click here.

My Teacher
By Rebecca Landell
I can still see her there, on the front steps, standing by her son. She wasn't beautiful. No, she wasn't beautiful, but she was lovely. Her arms would be crossed, her carrot-red hair brushing her shoulders, and she would be saying - as she always did when I thanked her at the end of a lesson - "It's a pleasure."

Going down Cold Tree Hill
By Charlotte Dworshak
Burlington High School, Grade 10

I scrape the snow off my skis as I sit on the chair and wait. It is made of metal that has been turned white with the frigid air. I think about how cold it was last night and how the chair must have been in the middle of the night. I shiver at the thought. I look at my torn gloves and ball my hands up to keep them warm. A gust of wind comes as I protect my face by tipping it down. It is snowing in big clumps, and I try to catch one on my tongue. I do; it instantly melts like cotton candy. I stare straight at the falling snow and watch it tease me by coming straight at my goggles but never hitting them.

Regionals
By Lucy Skinner
Richmond Middle School, Grade 7

Molly read her piece on Vermont Public Radio earlier this year. For other examples of pieces aired on Vermont Public Radio, click here.

Trust
By Molly Ziegler
Hartford High School, Grade 11

Winter was never my favorite season. All of the inconveniences that come with the season make it hard for me to truly enjoy it, like icy roads and frostbite. Don't get me wrong, I never thought that snow was ugly. I just don't like the consequences of its beauty.

By Lily Harris
Charlotte Central School, Grade 6

On a warm, sunny day in July, 1998, we stood in a circle in my huge back yard and planted my tree. My family and our very close friends were gathered to celebrate my adoption. The tree we planted is a red maple.

I have noticed over the years that my tree is a lot like me.

By Eman Hayyat
Middlebury Union High School,Grade 10

Those who don’t understand Arabic or the culture say we are bad people. Those who listen to the news and watch the destruction assume we are terrorists. The walls come crumbling down and so do our lives. They see the dark skin, the dark hair, and the dark eyes and think we are monsters.