Essay about Developing My Identity

Identity is what defines us as a person. Everyone one on earth has their own unique identity. To showcase my identity, I created a collage of images and descriptive words, called an identi-kit. This identi-kit shows what I feel like is my identity to myself and the others. My identi-kit identifies me as a mixed martial artist. The identi-kit has images of a deadly shark with mixed martial arts gloves on that say mixed martial arts on the front and fight shorts with the words competitor and warrior on them. It also has descriptive words like “killer instinct” and “fight” which describe my spirit. There are three assumptions that come to question when asking about one’s identity. The first is if you were born with this

It is quite uncomfortable and difficult for me to have a discussion about my social identity because I do not identify myself with a specific group of people. I consider myself an open member of our global society. Even though I was born into a Polish household and raised amongst first generation Americans, I do not necessarily identify as a Pole, American, or Polish-American. Technically, I am a Polish American since I was born in America and raised by Polish parents, but that does not necessarily mean that I identify as a "Polish American." If I were to identify myself as one, I would feel as though my identity would be limited to Polish and American cultural and social values. I am not a book that can be neatly and properly stored on

Identity. What is identity? One will say that it is the distinct personality of an individual. Others will say that identity is the behavior of a person in response to their surrounding environment. At certain points of time, some people search for their identity in order to understand their existence in life. In regards, identity is shaped into an individual through the social trials of life that involve family and peers, the religious beliefs by the practice of certain faiths, and cultural awareness through family history and traditions. These are what shape the identity of an individual.

mostly of Caucasian. Although I am a quick learner, it was especially hard for me

Nowadays it is not uncommon that almost everyone has at least one profile on some sort of social networking site. The reason? To not feel left out. We post online to share what we are doing and how we are feeling. However, social media has influenced us in ways that were not initially planned. Our identities, the concept of what makes you, yourself. Identities are constantly evolving due to social media. We are posting online to make good impressions on the people who follow us. We snap photos and add filters to make ourselves look and feel better. Maybe someone will comment! What if nobody does? Do I delete it? These are constant questions and concerns that go through peoples’ minds during the time they post content. I know those questions run through my head each time I click the share button. It’s almost like we need validation from others for us to be ourselves. When I post, I wait to see the reaction of others, will they like it? When others post, I am constantly comparing myself to them. We are constantly comparing and evolving. Exactly like our identity. Our lives are increasingly more public now more than ever.

People think of me as a girl that stay to herself but I am a black african american and my cultural identity is dancing i love to dance dancing is my life i could dance all day and night my mom said i been dancing since i was just 3 years old i dance kinda good i don’t dance that good to be a dance star but i’m going keep trying and trying and one day i’m make it there, i like to dress in a hip-hop kind of way because it’s just the way i am i dress in a way to explain me or i dress in the way my mood is , I love to eat gumbo , gumbo is the food that bring my family together , like it could be a hot sunny day and my mom cook gumbo then my mom would call them tell and they would pull up 20 mins later we a family that like to eat gumbo my family is loud they louder then 1000 people in a mall they very loud

“You're Mexican?” Is the question that has been etched in my brain from a young age. As a person of Mexican descent and little resemblance to stereotypical appearances of brown eyes, short, and black hair, this is the hurtful response to my answer for the question,”,What ethnicity are you?” Unfortunately, the assertion that I am Mexican is something that I have had to defend throughout my entire life. In defense of this part of my identity, I write this essay.

One aspect of my identity which has shaped my life tremendously, is being the only natural born citizen born into a family composed entirely of immigrants. My family, including my grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and further extended relatives all immigrated to America from Albania. For some of my family, like my grandparents, they immigrated here when they were already very old, for others like my sister, this happened when they were only two years old. My parents immigrated to America with my sisters when they were middle ages, and I was born here soon after. Out of all of the large family that I have, I am the only one of all of us, who was born in America. This is an aspect of myself which has made me grow and shape into the person I am. It has affected my identity and life in many ways that I have come to realize and many that I’m sure I have yet to understand.

During middle childhood, ages 6-12, my life changed dramatically. Up until this point I had lived a rather sheltered life from what I can gather. I mainly played with children of my own race, who were from middle to upper middle class families and

As an Iranian-American, my identity comes with plenty of downsides. The severity of these ranges from being called a terrorist to having a body covered in hair. However the best perk of my identity is that my family is obsessed with food. All of my extended family members have cooked an amazing dish at some point during their teenage years. It’s like a rite of passage that determines whether your parents view and treat you like an adult. Leading up to my junior year, I had been unable to accomplish this.

Many people go throughout life not knowing exactly who they are. The personality of some one is who they are. Many psychologists have tried to define what they envisioned personality to be, and by analyzing their theories I will try to find out who I am.

In my twenty years of life, for the majority of events that I have encountered, very few if any have I experienced any racial identification. I think there's several factors that contribute to why racial identification events were not often or existent. For the most part of my life, I grew up in predominantly African- American and Hispanic area in the southside of Chicago. I attended the local public schools, where most of my classmates were low-income and welfare assisted. All of my friends were Hispanic or Black and for the most part shared the same beliefs and customs, so feeling different did not occur to me. However, when I turned 16, my parents decided to move Elmhurst, a middle class northwest suburb outside of Chicago and I did encounter one moment where my race became important to me. Things were so different in Elmhurst, all of my neighbors and classmates were White and those who were not white were of Asian descent. I felt like I was the only Hispanic in that town, and without putting too much thought, I started picking up after my peers. I started to carry myself like everyone at the town, I adapted some of the slang they spoke, and did things the rest of the kids did. I got a job at Michael's, the craft store and one day a lady that looked of Hispanic descent and spoke zero English came in one day and everyone working at Michaels was White and so I was called into the front to assist her with the language. I was singled out already because I look Hispanic and

Reflecting back, I have always thought that I had a never normal life and community that I have had throughout my life time. Original from Dunbar, Pennsylvania where we called the side of a mountain home. I lived in Pennsylvania till I was about seven years old. It was still always considered home. I lived minutes away from my grandparents, cousins, aunts, and uncles. I was always seeing my family no matter what. The community was much closer. Everyone knew everyone and even who your parents were. It was just a close family and community life there. But I can look back and remember that there really wasn’t any one of any other ethnicity other than white. There could have been a few families but I had never seen them too often. There were

I remember the first day that I realized that I was different from most kids. When I five years old, I attended Sacred Heart Cathedral Preparatory in San Francisco’s Fillmore District. I was surrounded by diversity from an early age and during that time I was considered outgoing, and an extroverted child that loved to learn. Living in the Fillmore was a great experience, my grandparents live in a massive home two story house which was right up the street from my school. My family would all gather to have at my grandparent’s house, so the majority of my family resided in my neighborhood. Before going to 2nd grade, my mother lost her job so we were forced to live in low income housing and I had to attend a public school. We ended up moving

The first three years of my life were spent on the West Coast in the city of Irvine, California. I don’t remember too much from these years, but I do know my parents labored long shifts, sacrificing precious time to support an infant and young child. 2002 was the year we