Disclaimer from the Narrator - Speaker - Whatever: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, business, events and incidents are the products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Also, any relationships between consecutively narrated events are likewise purely coincidental; causality - either by natural or supernatural means - is in no way implied or intended to be construed by the percipient reader.

In a bid to spread awareness on alarming pollution levels in the city, students at Lancers International School, one of the top schools in Gurgaon, took the initiative to highlight the burning issue through art.

How to start a high school in Pakistan? Opening A Private School Is A Long-lasting, Complicated and Complex Procedure. Inaugural a private school in Pakistan has become problematic with so much rivalry in the marketplace. Though the resident’s development at-an-all-time-high & countryside to urban relocation at an all-time high, it is the correct time to capitalize on schooling.

Whether you're in a marching band or a drum and bugle corps, the final event of field show competition is called a retreat. All the groups gather on the field for an awards ceremony. That's the marching band I was with crossing the field in the picture. I don't remember if it's because we left that open spot you see and were heading off the field or if we're on our way to that open spot. Hell, I don't even remember every single band on that field. I can still name 2 of them though.

Japan is a beautiful nation. With natural and man-made marvels alike, the country draws numerous tourists every year. It is no wonder, so many families choose this nation as their temporary or even permanent home when moving abroad!

Dear Diary, My name is Uniqua, and I HATE high school. I have only been in highschool for ONE day, and all hell has broken loose. So, on my first day of high school, my mom bippity-boppity-boop'd my afro textured hair into silky curls. I got dressed in my red polo shirt and khaki pants with black shoes. Although my mom put a lot of effort into making sure I looked nice for school, I was completely oblivious to how I looked in the ninth grade. I was so excited. It was my first day at a new school, with new friends. I was READY to start my day. So, my first day started off wonderfully. I walked to the bus stop alone for the first time. There were other kids waiting with me. One boy smirked at my shoes and told his brother, "Hey, what are thooose??". I looked down at my shoes and THAT'S when I realized my shoes looked so plain compared to the other kids' shoes. The other kids' shoes had sparkles and lights, while mine was a dull black color. Great. That's was okay though, because school hadn't started and I wouldn't have to worry about that mean boy for much longer. I let the other kids get on the school bus before me. I was really gassy back then and I didn't want to accidentally toot in front of the other kids as they were getting onto the school bus behind me. So, I'm walking up the steps of the school bus and I look around once I reach the top and guess what? That's right, Diary.. There's no where for me to sit. I sat on the school bus steps all the way to school on my very FIRST day of high school. True story. I was still in a positive mood once getting off of the bus. So, everyone was gathered into the cafeteria for a quick lecture on what was expected of us students. While I was sitting right up front paying very close attention, a cute and tall light skinned boy tapped my shoulder. I turned around shocked that this adorable creature was talking to me. He asked me, "Hey Uniqua, are you related to Cynthia?" I responded no. I had just moved in the area and didn't know anyone yet. He smiled at me and his pretty brown eyes that winkled in the light as he said that I looked JUST like Cynthia. I shrugged and said, "No, I don't know who that is." We went back and forth several times, when finally a dark and tall boy who I recognized from my bus stop, tapped him and said, "Leave her alone man. She's new." That's when it hit me. The cute specimen was not a nice boy. I didn't know what his intentions were, but I certainly would find out later on that day. Throughout the day, high school seemed to be better than expected. I met new people, I was learning already, and everyone in my classes seemed to be nice. I met this nice boy named Jarard who worked with me in my social studies class and made funny jokes to make me laugh. We shook hands and introduced ourselves to each other like normal people do. Haha, then came lunch time. The cafeteria must be bad luck, because what happened next will change my positive perspective of high school back to "what the hell" again. I was standing in the lunch line waiting for my turn to tell the lunch ladies what I would like on my plate when I noticed a very handsome caucasian boy standing about ten feet away from me. I was staring so hard that a girl from my class, Karina, asked me what was I looking at. She followed my gaze and said, "Girl... that's not a dude." I looked at her in shock and told her that he is FINE FINE (haha) and that I had had enough of being picked on, and "LEAVE. ME. ALONE." I should have listened to Karina. A few "popular girls" overheard me and laughed until they turned red, because that FINE FINE boy was indeed a girl. I overheard someone calling Cynthia's name. I darted my eyes across the cafeteria tables until I found Cynthia responding to her name being called. Cynthia had very very short afro textured hair, she had cute clothes, but there were stains all over them, and she wore shoes that looked like her ankles were about to pop out of them. So... this was who the boy thought I was related to. I thought, "What would Jesus do?" and I walked right up to Cynthia and told her my name and hugged her really tight and whispered to her that she was beautiful. If I was being picked on because someone thought I looked like her, I could only imagine what she was going through. I got my mexican pizza from the lunch line (so delicious!) and I sat next to Jarard, my new buddy from social studies or so I thought... Apparently, Jarard is only a good friend in class. When he's sitting with his other friends at lunch time, he is a bully like a lot of others at this messed up school. Every time I tried to speak to him, he would rawr at me like a dinosaur. I laughed until one of Jarard's friends told me that "rawr" was code for, "Damn, that girl's breath stinks." Needless to say, I cried with my face in my crossed arms on the table for the rest of lunch time. Oh, you think that's bad? Wait until you hear this... I met a new friend in science class. I didn't really like science, but having someone to endure it with made the time go by fast. Her name was Tia. Tia was caucasian, tall, and she had black, silky, and long beautiful hair. We giggled and joked. We turned everything that was said in science class into a joke. I enjoyed Tia SO much. We became BEST friends that day. It was official. That was until gym class began. Yes Diary, yes.. My day got worse. Can you believe I experienced racism for the first time on my first day of school? So, I am african american, but I was even oblivious to skin color until this day. I went to the bathroom in the gym to get dressed for dodge ball. You couldn't play dodge ball in your red polo and khaki pants. I mean, you could, but my mom would not be okay with it. When I got out of the bathroom, I noticed Tia with the group of popular girls from lunch. My heart skipped a beat. Tia and I had become SO close that I almost knew for SURE that I was about to make some more new friends. If they liked Tia, they would definitely like me too. Tia pointed at the girls and said, "Hey Uniqua, meet my new friends." I said hello and the girls rolled their eyes and looked away while mumbling hello back. Tia explained to me that she was now one of the popular girls and wanted me to be a popular girl too. I looked at the other girls and asked if I could stay with my friend Tia. I explained that she and I are best friends. The other girls looked at me, grabbed my hand softly, and said, "I don't mean this in a mean way, but... No offense, but there are not that many black popular girls, so you can't join our group." My eyes filled instantly with tears. I kept thinking what does my skin color have anything to do with ANYthing? I asked the gym coach if I could go to the restroom, and once I got there, I cried in a stall. I cried one of those silent, help me God, cries. My day was ALMOST over. I looked under the stall to make sure no one was around and I used the restroom. The smell filled the bathroom, but that was okay because I was about to leave quickly, wash my hands, and head to the school buses to go home, except I couldn't go home. I couldn't leave the stall. A girl named Bree walked into the restroom and stood at the sink. I put my feet up on the back of the bathroom stall so she couldn't pick my shoes out in a crowd and know who took a poop in the girls' bathroom. I underestimated Bree. She left the bathroom. Thankfully, I washed my hands, and as I walked out of the bathroom, my heart sank. Bree had patiently waited outside of the bathroom door so she could spread around the school what I had just done in the bathroom. I don't know who made the rule that girls shouldn't poop in public, but it is definitely a thing, and you shouldn't get caught, but I did. I walked away swiftly, making sure not to make eye contact with Bree. I grabbed my bookbag from gym class and proceeded to head to my assigned school bus to go home. When I got on the bus, everyone from my grade was staring at me. The same boy that said, "What are thooose?" at my shoes first thing this morning told me, "Hey, I heard you stank up the girls' bathroom today. Everyone laughed and my first day of high school ended with my jacket over my head. I rode the bus in shame all the way home. When I got home, my mom asked me how school went. I told her it was fine, trying not to worry her. Make no mistake, Diary. My first day of high school was hell, BUT I made it. Tomorrow will be better. Everyone should forget everything that's happened today, right?

Chapter 2: Anya My eyes darted all over the lunch room, unsure of where to go. It seemed like everyone already had a place with their respective groups and high school was sort of like a jungle. I felt like I was going to pee my pants. I didn’t even really want to talk to anyone, to be honest. But sitting alone made me a prime target for bullying and I needed to be with someone at the very least. Just as I was thinking that to myself, I saw someone who was completely alone and someone who had an aura of “stay the fuck away from me or I’ll hurt you.” Perfect.

School, just my favorite type of place, crowded, annoying, and filled to the brim with teenagers. I hated it here not because of the classes or the teachers or the getting up early, because none of that was a problem. Rather, I hate it because of the other students with their heads up their asses and their pitiful, prideful manner.

As a parent of a teenager who is about to embark on high school, it can be an unsettling time. Not only may you be struggling with the fact your child is growing up, but he or she may also be overwhelmed with the thought of the transition.

There is nothing more exciting and scary for teenagers than going to high school. It is often a bigger school filled with a lot more students than elementary and middle school. If you think about switching classrooms, it can be even more daunting.

Introduction: Finally, I’m done with my years of high school, I earned all my credits by passing the subjects required. And soon I’ll have my graduation, but I started to miss everything. When I received “back to school” ads, I realized that I don’t need to worry about going back to school again. Which made me miss the times where I went to bed so late because of homework, and waking up early for school, because the bathroom gets easily occupied by others in my house. I missed the sketchy uniforms that I had to wear during school, and also missed the amazing moments where at lunch I played basketball in the park across the street from my school, and playing cards in the library with my friends. I still even remember everything from my first year in high school, after successfully escaping from hell (primary school).

For the past two weeks I’ve been speaking with students and parents concerning an education model that requires a return to in-class instruction.