1.07 Personal Narrative

The year 2003 the location Birch Creek Alaska. It is a small little town there is only about 28 people including my family. Back then I was so young so naive to the dangers of the world. I was 6 years just a mere child still trying to learn about the world. I have seen things now you would not believe. The pain and suffering that befell my family and I would be torment. It would haunt us for years to come after the events that would take place winter of 2003. I still remember it so vividly, so clean, it is has left a scar in my brain.

I arrived at practice with my shoes laced, hair pulled back, and the mindset that I was unstoppable. I could play against every member of my team and come out the victor on any given day. It was the first day of practice that week, and challenge matches were scheduled to begin. The team went through our daily shuffle of drills, conditioning, and running to prepare for what was lying ahead. While warming up with my friends, I felt great, talking about homecoming, boys, and a variety of irrelevant events. I felt ready. The odds were in my favor and nobody could stop me.

Baghdad, Iraq is where I was born and raised; I lived there for about 6 years during the most pivotal years of the war. My dad left when I was about 7 months. He went to Lebanon to live for a few years before settling in the United States. My mom took care of me and my siblings. War was going on in Iraq; people walked with a dying heart. Iraq was split into Shiite, Sunni, and Christianity. Sunni and Shiite do not have any issues with one another, but there are people who do not like the Shiites and caused civil strife between the two divisions of Islam. My family is Shiite and we do not believe in a separation between anyone because we are one, they are

For the first ten years of my life, I had a very normal childhood. I went to a private catholic school in a small town called Westwego. We were about twenty five minutes south of New Orleans. During the summers, friends and family would come over to our house and we would all swim and boil seafood. The summer of 2005 was no different; I was looking forward to entering 5th grade. Fast forward to one week before school is about to start when Hurricane Katrina formed in the Atlantic Ocean. Hurricanes were no strangers to us as we have been through several throughout the years. However, a few days later the storm is upgraded to a Category 3 and is predicted to hit New Orleans dead on. My parents felt it was time for us to leave and we traveled

At the beginning of my freshman year I was attempting to develop motivation as well as seeking purpose and determining value. Whether in school or during sports or other activities and events in my life, I was constantly searching for motivation towards a goal or achievement.

One of two. That's how I feel everyday of my life. I'm a twin and that means I will never be complete without my other half. When I was younger, I learned that having a twin does not keep me from things. It's getting to have a person in my life that I don't need to hide from, other than in hide and seek. When I was little, my brother probably hated me as much as I hated him. But we were together all the time. We went to school together, we were in the same class almost all the time. Sometimes, we had the same friends even. We shared birthday parties, cakes, presents, money. Basically the same things we still share now. But between us, we shared secrets. Little things that we thought were so cool. When my grandma gave us money, we split it and made sure not to tell our parents. I went and bought

I was not an intentionally bigoted twelve-year-old. I was raised in an affluent suburban community where the vast majority of people are white. The 100% white private nursery school which I attended was chosen by my parents largely due to its proximity to our home. My public elementary school was about 70% white as it was populated with students who resided nearby. Finally, the private middle school which I attended, located almost an hour from my home, provided me with exposure to the most diverse student body of my youth as it was comprised of about 65% Caucasian children. What each of these formative academic experiences shared in common was both that their student bodies were disproportionately Caucasian, as well as that their senior administrators

This post was probably my worst semester of college and I have no excuse for how things turned out with my classes. I'm not going to blame my job or my home life as it was me who failed and I have no one else to point the finger at. I had tried to pass the remedial math course five times previously and I started to lose hope that this one course would hold me back from finishing school. This hopelessness carried into my other courses because at the time I truly believed it was pointless to try in other courses if I can't pass this class that's been haunting since I started attending college.

Hearing the sounds of people breaking in half a wooden slab with their feet and cries being shouted out, I hesitantly entered the Dojo, placing my sandals in a cabinet. Dreading the smell of feet and sweat I didn’t enjoy coming. Not only was the smell bad but the physicality that was required was discomforting. The hits that my back and ribs received from missed side-kicks and jabs was unbearable.

It was a peaceful day in a crummy condo. My brother and I were sitting in his room. I had AP Social Studies homework and he had 7th grade English. He was in the middle of asking me a question when a gust of wind came through the closed window. I kind of, how do I put this, a noise. A very dim, subtle noise. A ZING, SWOOSH, SHUUWAH noise. And out popped two people. A man and a woman. They looked at us in a passive, easygoing way, and the women said to us in a soft, calm voice, “We are your parents. And want to take you home”.

My eyes fluttered open and I found myself there again. I always find myself in the same place, stuck in the exact moment of time when it all happened. I struggled to get a hold of myself. Is this a memory or am I still in Afghanistan?

My dad, for as long as I can remember, has always been a big part of my life. All throughout middle and high school we would have heart to heart conversations just father and son. I can remember the warmth of the fire, the taste of tea on the tip of my tongue, a cool midnight breeze blowing in carrying the scent of grass and fresh rain, my dad sitting across the room telling me about the different projects he was working on, and regaling me with advice to help in everyday life. One night, he told me something that would change my life forever: that all the different clubs, hobbies, and sports that I do are connected to each other in some way, and how each skill I gain from each of these different activities can be filed away to use in a later

“We don’t have anytime time to waste today guys, get moving!” my mom announced. My brother was coming today and she wanted the house to be spotless. We had just started fall break and I was in the fourth grade. I was playing games and relaxing like any 10 year old would do. My dad was lounging on the couch watching some show, and my siblings were running around. By then I had only 5 siblings, 2 sisters and 3 brothers. We had known for a while that Johnny, age 9 at the time, was coming to live with us, what we didn’t know was that he would bring with him a fish. I was happier than a child opening presents on Christmas. The fish was a beautiful white male betta with long flowing fins. He lived in a small 1 gallon tank with blue pebbles, pointy

my studies. It was there that I would max out my library card to read

I was sitting in one of my friend’s basement, talking, laughing and messing around like we normally do. Because the July heat was almost unbearable, we are all going to the beach later. My friends and I do a lot together and we have been a group since about 5th grade. Also my family and I share everything with each other, and we really like each other unlike some families who hardly tolerate each other. I have lived a pretty good life so far. I get good grades during the school year. There is also a chance that I will play college basketball after my last two years of high school. My life is heading in a good direction, and the whole world seems on my side. Then I get the phone call and know that something is wrong and that my life was about