School
College Street
It's been twelve years, but I'll never forget my first time on College Street. I was in the passenger's seat of Betsy, my mother's white 3-Series sport wagon that was a complete lemon. The fact that she had made the trip made the day seem slightly miraculous before anything had happened. We couldn't have been doing less than 45 (knowing my mother). Still, the sight of the morning sun filtering in through the canopy of trees, set amongst the late-19th century reddish brownstone and brick buildings of the campus, plays out mentally in slow motion. As my mother's manual transmission filled the quiet Massachusetts town with a sound reminiscent of the Grand Prix, I knew in my gut that I would go to the women's college on College Street.
By Justine Olivia Marks5 years ago in Confessions
My Tiger Bell
An ordinary Monday night had me exiting the Training Table around 9:30 pm. I stayed late at study hall preparing for a Research Marketing Exam I had on Friday. Mama, the head cook, left it open a little late for us stragglers. I’m all alone, which is rare. I hurry to make a couple of roast beef sandwiches, grab a handful of cookies that I stuff in my bookbag.
By Timothy Kincaid5 years ago in Confessions
100 Hundreds for My Queen
The love and attention from a sexy college coed can sometimes cause a player to do things out of the ordinary. However, throw sex into the equation and a ballers best intentions take a back seat. Basketball players at Clemson University have a code of expectations. Play hard every game, represent the University well in all endeavors on and off the court. Finally, work as diligently in the classroom as you do on the court. My first semester at Clemson had us checking into our apartments a week before classes began, between parties on Frat Row and our own House Parties we got white boy wasted every night.
By Timothy Kincaid5 years ago in Confessions
The Decision
The decision a Division One college basketball recruit must make to where he or she will take their talents can determine their future on and off the court. 20 Universities recruited me to play. My high school team went 29–1 and won the North Carolina State 3A Championship. I averaged 22 points, 9 assists, and shot 59% from the field and 80% from the free throw line. I finished the season 1st Team Associated Press All-State. After careful consideration, my decision boiled down to two great Universities: Appalachian State & Clemson.
By Timothy Kincaid5 years ago in Confessions
The Night God Spoke
Our Clemson University bus pulls up to the Dean E. Smith Center. The Clemson Tiger Men’s Basketball team had never beat the North Carolina Tarheel Men’s Basketball team on their home court. As for me I had experienced a measure of success at The Dean Dome. A rush of images race through my mind. The stage is set, all 4 high school boys state championships are to be played here at the Smith Center. It’s my senior year at R.S Central High School. In the closing seconds I assisted on the go ahead bucket, stole the ball from the opposition, got fouled and with 5 seconds remaining sank 2 game sealing free throws. Forever cementing my R.S. Central Hilltoppers into North Carolina basketball history.
By Timothy Kincaid5 years ago in Confessions
My Middle School Was Sketchier Than Yours
Picture it- some small town in North Carolina, a middle school rumored to be a former prison. The windows were barred, some classrooms were simply trailers, and it was the only middle school in the district. I was a chubby little girl with a weird penchant for pretending I was a horse when walking in line. I also had a weird wardrobe- my first day at the middle school I sported a crushed velvet tracksuit that was a deep purple all over.
By Eli Glen 5 years ago in Confessions
All I Want For Christmas is my Two Front Teeth
It was raining cats and dogs, as the saying goes. My Pal Keith and I were the only two pupils in the school who decided to go outside into that wet, cold, winter's yard and play one of the most violent games ever devised for a school playground. Even the teacher, who was supposed to be on duty, was cosily inside the staff room supping a hot mug of tea and dunking his ginger biscuit into the hot liquid, instead of braving the elements and protecting the boys from danger.
By Gavin Mayhew5 years ago in Confessions
Out Smarted
Tropical island scents engulf the entire room. There are faint sounds of an instrumental band playing from a small CD player in the background. The class is entirely too quiet to consist of students in the third grade. Mrs. Edwards towers before us at the front of the class and gives an announcement letting us know that the “show and tell” section of today is about to begin.
By Samantha Semones5 years ago in Confessions
Cafeteria Crisis
It was high school and I was the new kid. I wasn’t just any new kid. I was the Catholic school kid who went from a school of less than 200 kids from ages 3 to 14 to the halls of teen angst shared with at least 2,500. At least I got to go to Warped Tour and smell grass before I got wrapped up into that but man, I was a young freshman! Practically everyone had been going to school together, grew up together, all knew each other for years. I never seen so many different people in my life. Don’t get me wrong, this school was chalk full of white people. You can imagine how small my world was. I was suddenly walking amongst the bored, expressive, depressive teens doing whatever forever because there was never a whole lot going on that I would some day identify with for the rest of my life.
By Lolly Paige Lennox5 years ago in Confessions
A Stranger in my own School
The year was 1974. I was a rather smallish 11 year old boy with the typical short Afro worn by most African-American children in the early 70's. My parents had recently transferred me from I.S. 59, a junior high school located in Springfield Gardens, Queens, NY to "Mfantsipim," a British-style boarding school located in the coastal town of Cape Coast, Ghana, West Africa.
By Kweku Amonoo5 years ago in Confessions
Culture Shock
As I make my way up these concrete steps, I am overcome with anxiety. A blanket of uncertainty washes over me and I wish for this day to end. It is not my first time being the new kid in school, on the contrary, it is my 4th high school and the third country I've been thrown into in these past four years. A prayer I am far too familiar with, to go through the motions of day number one unprovoked. There she stands, this lovely tall short haired freckle-faced sophomore. With a warm smile and her hands interlocked in front of her uniform, she greets us and directs my parents and I to catch up with the other group of newbies for a tour to then begin our first day. Anxious and now restless, for I have never looked at someone and felt this giddy. If I had known she'd be my wife today, well, I would've gotten out of my comfort zone and mustered-up the courage to introduce myself that very same morning.
By Huriell Jerome5 years ago in Confessions
