Inspirational articles for senior high school students never give up

The senior year of high school is the most beautiful scenery in life. Life is incomplete without the memories of college campus, and it is even more lacking without the memories of senior year life. Below is the inspirational article I shared about never giving up for the senior year of high school. Let’s take a look.

Every little bit of the more than 300 days and nights in the senior year of high school is like a colorful flower blooming in everyone's heart. Maybe not every flower is earth-shatteringly beautiful, not every flower is shockingly fragrant, and not every flower can bear abundant fruits. But those flowers have indeed bloomed once in the softest place in everyone's heart, and they have indeed left some sweet fragrance of blooming flowers. The shadows of these flowers, together with the senior year of high school, bring us a pair of mature eyes that we use to see the world today. This unforgettable impression will affect every choice and every decision we make in life in the future. Years pass by like a fleeting time, with flowers blooming and falling. We stand by the river of time and watch the clear water passing by. The river is full of fallen flowers and the passing years.

I don’t know how to write it. To be precise, I don’t know what words to use to completely string together the feelings of this year, so that they can hang there like gorgeous crystals without losing their original flavor, so that you can Share so you can understand.

When I was writing the first character of this extremely hot August, I suddenly noticed many unknown flowers blooming outside the window, red, yellow, pink and white. It is clear blue, colorful and green, full of beautiful colors. Oh my God, when did these flowers bloom? Such a raging momentum should not last only a few days.

I don’t know if these flowers are blooming so beautifully this year. If so, I think I should thank them. I could smell a lot of sweet smells in the air, and a very beautiful word suddenly appeared: The flowers bloom undefeated!

The flowers bloom undefeated.

The flowers bloom undefeated!

I think I can finally calm down and tell you the many stories that happened this year. I think no matter what happens in the future, I will never forget every detail of this year.

A week before the start of my senior year of high school, a parent-teacher meeting was held.

That was a very serious parent-teacher meeting, one in which no one was absent or even late. The teacher aroused almost all the emotions of the parents at that meeting. The importance of the senior year in high school goes without saying. As the saying goes, "Success is also a senior year, failure is also a senior year." No matter how brilliant the children were in the past, no matter how failed they were, the head teacher, a thin little girl, actually leaned on the edge of the podium and said: It is a two-hour high-spirited period that makes us believe that things are possible, and that miracles or bad consequences will appear dramatically in this year.

In order to allow each student to clearly understand their ranking position in class, grade, and even in the district and the city, the school carefully produced a ranking list of grades for each subject in the first and second grades of high school. Thinking about it now, I have to admit that that table is really very detailed. The total score and mark ranking of each subject are compared with the average score in the grade. There is even a carefully designed score curve chart derived from this. Finally, a detailed analysis of the comprehensive ranking is included. It is a piece of paper that is so densely packed that it is really painstaking.

My father came back from school with a gloomy face, and the situation was as grim as I expected: he was ranked 290th in his grade. Terrible location.

"There is still hope. As the teacher said, everything is possible." My father said that he believed in me, but I didn't know if I should believe in myself again. However, there is no way out. We are pawns who have crossed the river and cannot look back.

Only by galvanizing my horse and catching up can I be worthy of my parents, my teachers, and most importantly, myself.

After eleven long years of preparation, it is finally time to start the battle and fight desperately. I had to say goodbye to my undisciplined, irresponsible past.

I hastily accepted the challenge even though I was completely defeated. However, the battle had already begun and I couldn’t even hide.

The senior year of high school is really different.

If the horror of the high school question sea tactics has not been revealed at the beginning of this devil’s appearance, then the changes brought about by the senior year are first of all psychological. There will always be a string tightly stretched in your mind, it is there all the time, all the time. In a boring English class, your thoughts drift out of the window and you are imagining things; when you are doing "super low-level" math problems that require a lot of calculations and are purely for practicing patience, you move a little bit and want to refer to others. When I had the idea of ??the answer; when I forced myself to sit at the table at 12 o'clock in the middle of the night and memorize the meaning of "People's Democratic Dictatorship" in a long and confusing way, the string "boom" came with a deafening sound: "It's my senior year in high school, why?" How can you be so depraved!" Then, his whole body became excited, and his heart started beating wildly. He immediately steeled himself and continued to fight.

For senior high school students, writing articles is definitely a luxury and wasteful thing. As soon as I picked up the pen, the string in my mind was buzzing. The tone, tone of writing, and even the handwriting were all unfamiliar. It was as unfamiliar as copying words, without feeling at all. I had to admire the strong motivation of the senior year of high school. There were more and more reminders on my desk. I packed up my pen and manuscript paper and said goodbye to them resolutely. The silver-white pen engraved with a beautiful dragon pattern was too heavy and I was a little unable to pick it up, so I decided to give up.

At the beginning of the third year of high school, almost everyone was ambitious and eager to try, and everyone was so courageous that they had to go to Fudan Jiaotong University. I put a large slogan "Enter Fudan" on my bedside and shouted it several times every morning before I got up and before going to bed to increase my little confidence. Under the pressure of the college entrance examination, all dreams were abstracted into the sacred university that I identified. As soon as I heard all the news about Fudan, I immediately became excited and excited, as if everything was eclipsed by the dazzling halo of that school.

I never thought about the huge gap between the score of 290th and Fudan, and the students around me didn’t seem to realize the terrifying formation of thousands of troops crossing the single-plank bridge. We cling to the dreams in our hearts, shouting "I want ××" like Xianglin's sister-in-law. That kind of psychology and the explosive atmosphere created by it are something that people who are not in the third year of high school cannot understand.

The first real competition from the senior year of high school came soon.

The midterm test of the first semester, an exam that we thought we were ready for but was killed horribly.

Our ranking has undergone earth-shaking changes as the teacher predicted before. Many previously unknown classmates in the class were like dark horses, which suddenly surprised everyone. Ups and downs, sliding up and down, many people began to become practical. The school of Peking University is indeed artistic, but not everyone can feel the elegance there. The embarrassment of having too many monks makes every senior high school student feel embarrassed in front of the huge gap between reality and dreams.

I am one of the very few people who still hold on to their illusions. Please note that I use the word "fantasy", that is, something that seems absolutely impossible at the time. It stands to reason that someone like me, who was unsatisfactorily hovering between the 200th and 300th place in my freshman and sophomore years of high school, and who is still maintaining a slight momentum in my senior year of high school, has no hope for a top university like Fudan in the country. The school should not create any illusions. But God knows how I had such a spirit of revolutionary optimism at that time. I stubbornly held on to the idea of ????"getting ahead by 50 every time I take a test", calculating foolishly, and feeling foolishly proud.

Later facts also proved that it was precisely because of my frightening optimism that I had the motivation to persevere, and that the absolutely impossible things gradually showed the dawn of hope step by step.

Using cruel facts to defeat the fragile self-confidence of young people is the first trump card thrown to us by senior high school students.

The strength of psychological defense is an extremely important reason for victory in this war.

At that time, I did not realize that this kind of silly persistence had such a powerful power. I just insisted on the abstract name "Fudan" that I had kept for 11 years. I didn't even realize that What price should I pay in exchange for this beautiful concept I had in my childhood? I just follow it closely and recite it silently over and over again.

I used my arrogance to gain a slight advantage without realizing it. In fact, I didn't realize that this was indeed a good start.

I went to talk to the class teacher once. When the petite, cute, and feminine teacher saw me, she said softly: "You did well in the test this time. Keep it up next time. Huazheng can do it." Go ahead." I still can't figure out why I was so decisive and bold at that time: "I want to take the Fudan exam." The teacher, who has always been very ladylike, couldn't hide it and opened his mouth in the shape of an "○". Fortunately. She quickly took into account my feelings, and then said softly: "Then you have to work harder. But there is hope, there is hope." I grinned stupidly. There is a bouquet of roses on the table that are in full bloom, as red as if they are dripping with water, and they are stretching upwards with vigor. The sun slanted in, illuminating the office in early autumn with warmth.

Now that I think about it, that teacher’s understatement gave me so much motivation. Not to mention how much affirmation there is in her words, but the phrase "hopeful" is like a bright lantern, hanging in my mind not far or near in the following days, along with The sweet smell of roses on the table that day made me feel warm all over.

The following days began to become more and more dull, simple and repetitive.

Every morning, I rushed into the crowded classroom out of breath, put my school bag, picked up exercises, and started to calculate. Those days that are similar but not the same day by day have now been abstracted into densely written draft paper, formulas and exercises on the blackboard that are never wiped clean, and the teacher's heartfelt instructions and words that are always floating in the air. There are a lot of scraps of chalk in the air.

The boys’ hair is always messy and stuck one by one, and all the girls’ beautiful clothes have been simplified into neat and uniform school uniforms. Occasionally, we would raise our distracted eyes from the pile of messy papers piled as high as a hill and glance at the crooked notices recently copied out on the blackboard, such as how much to pay and what books to buy. The days just flow away in the ordinary bits and pieces.

The humorous cells of the classmates were trained to be extremely sharp in this simple environment. Once any trivial matter is caught, it will be immediately exaggerated and expanded, and then attract everyone sensation. An article written by a certain writer about "dog farts/dog farts/dog farts" actually caused the whole class to slap the table, laugh, and take down the table legs and beat them wildly. The teacher said that this is a manifestation of senior high school syndrome. Because our lives are too simple, anything that can cause ripples will bring us immeasurable happiness.

The physical education class in the third year of high school is the only class stipulated by the school that cannot be invaded. The boys often play basketball in class until their sweaters are watered out, while the girls are playing shuttlecock and jumping rubber bands. happy.

The short time after the two classes every Friday afternoon is designated as "game day". We racked our brains and tried our best to bring things to school to play with. There is a children's game of "flicking coins" that is particularly popular with us. Put a few dimes and one-yuan coins on the table, and use a few pieces of rubber to build them as goals. Boys and girls all lie on the table, shouting and laughing, and have a great time playing in a serious way. I myself don’t understand how we, who have already gone through the adult ceremony, can be so easily satisfied, or why we can be so hysterical when we laugh.

“When we play, we play hard, and when we study, we just play hard. "Study hard." This is an unbreakable truth that our high school students believe in.

The numbers on the college entrance examination countdown card are getting smaller and smaller, and we have no time. The teacher shouted to us: "Just do whatever you have to do." We didn't have intrigues like the classmates in other books. We were always happy when we were together, no matter how bitter or boring it was, I know , at least there are brothers who are standing in the same trench as me. There are no students who pretend to be playful in school and study hard at home, because they don’t have the time or energy to prepare those hypocritical things. No one is willing to do that. Frankly speaking, they don’t bother to do it.

Then one day, someone planted a bunch of fresh lilies in the classroom, pink and white perfume lilies. That whole autumn, the quiet smell of lily lingered in the classroom.

We inadvertently calculated in the faint sweet fragrance day after day. No one paid special attention to the bundle of tranquil lilies, but it and its taste were truly and deeply engraved in everyone's heart.

I don’t know what words to use to accurately express my feelings at that stage. Maybe it’s “steady”. I still shout "Enter Fudan" when I get up early and go to bed late every day, but I no longer say "Fudan" over and over again. Everyone carefully keeps their dreams in their hearts and uses their own methods to try their best. We cannot grasp the ethereal things such as progress and honor. Only these real days can be seen and held by us. I can see the real efforts of my classmates and myself in these simple days. My grades are rising steadily in this sense of solidity, and I am moving forward neither too fast nor too slowly. This feeling, thinking about it now, is really good. The days in the second semester of senior high school have changed significantly compared to the calmness of the first semester, adding a lot of restlessness and uneasiness.

The first round of clearing up knowledge and the second round of systematically mastering comprehensive questions have come to an end, and the third round of intense exams and bombing of question sea tactics followed one after another.

That was an indescribable day.

The class schedule has been changed to the terrible format of "Chinese, Chinese, Mathematics, Mathematics + 1 + 1 self-study". Teachers usually no longer help us summarize anything in class, but just hand out stacks of mock papers for various subjects to be tested in class. I don’t know why the teacher has so many test papers. We have to do, analyze, and randomly check each type of paper in each area. There are also various unified examination papers from other cities and the country, as well as previous college entrance examination papers, and even those weird test questions from unknown study newspapers were all collected by the teacher for us to do. There is a small test in one class, a big test in two classes together, and a mock test in the unified self-study class for the whole grade. All test papers are scored, and if the teacher has no time to mark the quizzes, the students will take turns marking them. Scores have become the most exciting and least valuable thing in this hot and cold season that alternates between winter and spring.

That was really a powerful stimulus.

Comparing other people’s scores with your own is another stimulus, and the general trend of the scores is the biggest stimulus. I gradually became extremely numb and invulnerable in the stimulation of this day. In the blow after blow, I "started over again to clean up the mountains and rivers", and in the horrific failure, I exercised the courage and perseverance to swallow my teeth, and became more and more... Becoming more and more calm and stronger.

That was the most unforgettable period of my senior year in high school.

Examinations and analysis have become all part of life. Calculate the time to do the test papers, revise and analyze them, and practice again based on the wrong questions, over and over again. We changed "Go back and do n papers today" to "Go back and finish this book today", postponed the time to go to bed again and again, and set the alarm clock to wake up earlier and earlier.

Memorize n words every day, do n test papers every day, and complete n revisions every day.

The schedule is densely painted, and every time something is completed, it is crossed out with a colored pen. The shocking bars and the big red crosses on the examination paper sprinkled every dusk and morning, paving the only path with beautiful flowers in school and home.

The yellowed pages as high as mountains moved slowly in the moldy air. Sometimes I recite books at home until I shed tears, and I want to throw the book out the window. However, as long as you recite "Fudan" silently a few times, you will calm down immediately. With a heavy head and a blank heart, I was willing to bury myself in that room that was about to go rancid, saying "Abstract, abcd" over and over again. I was persistent and persistent. I didn't understand how a person like me, who was used to being undisciplined, could suddenly change his mind. Sitting so upright was so touching.

To this day, I am sitting in an air-conditioned room comfortably sorting out the books from my senior year of high school, and I still admire my perseverance and courage at that time. There are several large volumes of notes densely filled with annotations, examination papers half a meter high, each of which has been carefully written, revised and analyzed, and a 16-karat textbook of mathematics classic exercises as thick as a dictionary, with each question actually having Four or five solutions have been read no less than 10 times.

In that bitterly cold winter and weird spring, I used my cracked hands and rough handwriting to weave the sacred and only dream in my heart word by word and question by question. I think this is the impact and change brought to me by my senior year in high school.

Growth is a balance of yearning and longing.

When it tilts and collapses,

What kind of voice should be used to soothe those nights that have lost the light of day.

——Gao Xiaosong

I like Lao Lang’s songs very much. During those days, Lao Lang made me quiet and relieved. I thought that if I wanted to use one person's singing voice to soundtrack my senior year of high school, Lao Lang's would be very suitable. There is a sound of waves hidden under the calm.

Carrying the shame of being 290 people, I made a final struggle with reality with a desperate mood. I looked carefully at the weights in my hands. There was nothing left, only hard work. I think every senior high school student who has struggled has experienced the narrow beauty that blocks all retreats, and they all feel the tragic feelings in the final mood with their hearts.

Filling in the application form is a terrible thing. It is far more complicated and unbearable than I thought.

I thought I would confidently fill in the words "Fudan University" in my first choice, and then proudly continue my dream. I even imagined what words I would use to fill in and what words I would use to refute if my parents objected or the teacher disapproved. However, those were all my thoughts before filling in my application form. Things "thought" are often inconsistent with the facts. "Thought" is "thought" and "reality" is "reality".

In fact, the process of filling out the application form has indeed become the most frustrating event in my senior year of high school.

The teacher repeatedly emphasized that one must measure one’s position based on the scores and rankings of previous major exams as well as all performances in the first and second years of high school. My confidence disappeared in the process of sorting and comparing again and again. All. Can I do it? Can I do it? In front of the banner of "Go to Fudan", my answers became less confident each time, and my thin voice was shattered by the cruel reality.

I once saw a senior write in her article: "Trust and suspicion are like a seesaw. How heavy your heart is when you trust yourself, how high your thoughts of doubting yourself will be involuntarily raised. "That's true." Every exam in your senior year of high school tells you never to guarantee anything, and never to affirm anything easily. No one can say with certainty: "My Chinese must be above 120." And no one dares to promise: "Mathematics must be my strong point."

The teachers' originally encouraging attitude all came to an end at this time. A 180-degree turn. They talk to you, use the admission rate, and use the horrific failure examples of the previous years to try to scare you and make you experience the horror of "one mistake that will lead to eternal hatred".

“Be conservative, conservative, and more conservative.” has become the first principle for filling out the application form.

My situation is somewhat desperate. The pitiful background of the whole family was not enough to arouse the loving care of any capable person, and my own achievements were so weak that I had no ability to cry out. Even though half a year of hard work earned me a slightly higher position among the top 80 in my grade, I became helpless in the shadow of 290 in previous years and the unattainable threshold of Fudan University. Allies began to withdraw one after another. Some of them gave up because of the five-point promise from a less-good school, some because their father knew the soul of a certain college, and some because they were confused by the teachers' hard work. In short, they all gave up. .

I suddenly became isolated and helpless. My father even went to Huazheng behind my back to get a 10-point bonus form, and told me endlessly all day long about the unlimited future of studying law. Finally, even the principal said: "You only have a 30% chance of getting into Fudan University. You must think carefully."

In those days, my nerves became unprecedentedly fragile. Dreams and relatively safe retreats are erratic and hesitant. A senior student from Huazheng comforted me with these words: "Please fill in our school first. If you really get a very high score, you might as well sit in front of Fudan University and cry!"

So , I choose to give up.

I dare not let Fudan exist just in words like a beautiful fairy tale. I dare not touch that extremely hard stone with an egg of unconfidence. I couldn't stand the despair that would come from heaven to hell if I failed. Amidst the cheers of unanimous approval, I tremblingly wrote the name of the school that I had never thought of, letting the word "betrayal" explode in my mind.

After handing in the form, I took a two-hour car ride alone and secretly went to the Fudan campus to sit there for an afternoon to mourn the demise of my dream.

Fudan is so beautiful. The overwhelming azaleas bloom quietly and intoxicatingly on the campus, perfectly setting off the solemn and sacred Fudan campus as I imagined. My tears suddenly flowed down. I'm not willing to let a dream I've had for 12 years be completely shattered by a thin piece of paper. I'm not willing to have my desperate efforts in the past year of high school be cut off by the word "insurance". Buried for reasons. I know that nothing can replace the important position of Fudan in my heart. If I really get into any department of other schools with high scores, how can the regret be overcome by sitting in front of Fudan and crying. What about?

I know that that extremely hot Sunday afternoon meant the victory of a persistent idea for me. Now that I think about it, that peaceful and beautiful afternoon in Fudan helped me make an important decision of my own.

I finally asked for my application form back under the different eyes of everyone, and solemnly and neatly filled in the four words "Fudan University" that made me excited. Big letters. Those are truly the most comfortable and beautiful four words I have written in 12 years. These four words are also the most important decision I have made based on my own will over the years, and they are a decision that reflects the initial weight of my life.

I want what I want, even if I am beaten to a bloody head in the face of reality, even if I fail miserably in the college entrance examination, this is the choice I made myself.

Just like students, they fail in the examination room.

There will be nothing worth writing about in the following days. After we handed over the application forms, there was nothing worth worrying about. We could read good books, prepare papers, and relax. It was all that simple.

As for the three days that countless people call black, I think there is some tension, but for us who have experienced many battles, we can treat it as a special mock test and face it calmly. That's it. I felt that I was super calm at the time. I finished all the exam papers without any panic or shaking hands, and handed in the most important answer sheet in my 12 years.

The last exam was comprehensive. I turned in the last paper. There was no one in the classroom. The invigilator showed a rare smile: "Is the exam over?" "Well. My high school is over. "When I walked out of the examination room, my feet were a little weak and my head was buzzing. The whole body collapsed into a ball as if its backbone had been taken away. Tiredness came over me like a mountain. I was tired, really tired. Handing in the exam paper feels like handing over half a lifetime of instructions.

More than three hundred days and nights full of sweat and tears!

The overwhelming feeling came over me and drowned me silently.

After getting the notice from Fudan University, I finally couldn’t help but visit that familiar classroom. The last room in the south corridor on the fifth floor is where the youth of the third year of high school flowed away. A bouquet of lavender forget-me-nots was unexpectedly placed in the glass bottle on the podium. Small green petals were scattered among them, swaying gently in the wind.

My friends and I have gone through the most difficult years together in a house with flowers blooming all year round. Now, some of them have gone to Beijing, some have gone to Nanjing, or they have stayed in some distant corner of Shanghai. I remember my classmates burying their heads in the messy scratch paper to calculate the tension of water. I remember me putting my feet up on the stool in the front seat and memorizing politics. I carefully put the Every little story full of ups and downs that has been played out so truly in this small room is deeply buried in my heart. They are the best witnesses of my unforgettable senior year in high school.

We all gathered here because of a common goal. Now, everyone has to go their separate ways for a new goal. There is no such thing as a banquet that lasts forever. Many boys shed tears at the graduation party, whether it was joy or pain. After all, the reality of this period was the first significant life that we, ***, walked hand in hand.

That laughter reminded me of my flowers

They were blooming quietly for me in every corner of my life

I once thought I would Stay by her side forever

Today we have left in the vast sea of ??people

They are all old, right?

Where are they

have been with them to open up.

I remember that I once loved a TV series called "Sixteen-year-old Flower Season". What a great name to get.

The flower season is blooming.

Beautiful flower season.

Every little bit of the more than 300 days and nights in the senior year of high school is like a colorful flower blooming in everyone's heart. Maybe not every flower is earth-shatteringly beautiful, not every flower is shockingly fragrant, and not every flower can bear abundant fruits. But those flowers have indeed bloomed once in the softest place in everyone's heart, and they have indeed left some sweet fragrance of blooming flowers. The shadows of these flowers, together with the senior year of high school, bring us a pair of mature eyes that we use to see the world today. This unforgettable impression will affect every choice and every decision we make in life in the future.

The flowers have bloomed. Whether we admit it or ignore it, as long as the flowers bloom, we will be undefeated.

Some stories haven’t been told yet, so forget it

Those emotions have become difficult to distinguish between true and false over the years

They are all old, right? They are still developing Let's go our separate ways.

Postscript:

I have finally finished telling the story of my senior year in high school. I feel a little tired and still feel a little inadequate.

For a long time, I have been thinking about what kind of words I should use to accurately and vividly write down my feelings this year, so that they can be presented in the form of words as a kind of commemoration.

To be honest, I was a very smooth kid. I went straight from elementary school to junior high school, and then from junior high school to high school. I got to where I am today without much trouble. Therefore, the college entrance examination has a different feeling in my heart for me who has never experienced anything. I feel every bit of this year with my heart, and accept the setbacks and rewards brought to me by my senior year with a pious attitude. I think this is a rare baptism and a very precious experience.

The text is still a little pale. I wonder if everyone can gain a sympathetic experience after reading the article. If there is even a little bit of recognition, I think I would be very satisfied.

The flowers bloom undefeated, the flowers bloom undefeated.

There will be many wonderful things waiting for me to realize, and there will be many experiences like the third year of high school waiting for me to experience. All the stories are sung while walking.