Let Me Tell You A Little Short And Sweet Story About My Life

All of my family last name is congolese heritage and some of my family first name as well. Also most of my family does not have the same last name as you can see by me being named Kalonda and my mother being Mundeke. None of the people interviewed knew what our last name mean or iif it had a speacial meaning behind it.My little sister and I took on my father last name. My brother kept my mother last name and one of my older sister has my grandmother last name. My older sister jocelyn explain to me that since she had a different father that her last name was after him, and she is married now so her last name is her husband name. My mother explain to me that her last name was very scared to her family and that the reason that she kept her last name.My mother say that in congo her grandparent did not have the last name mundeke. This is because in her culture you give people last name by people you hold dear like your boss, or friend that been very close to you. My sister Valiance says this is what happened to her that why her last name is neither my father or mothers. My Family is the first one in america so there has never been any changes to to our last name since

A little over two years ago, I finally saved up enough money from working part-time to afford a new computer. Before that, I had the computer my parents got me for my 16th birthday, which was around 3 years old then. The computer they got me wasn’t the best, but of course it was better than nothing and got the job done. I’m definitely very appreciative of that. Now, the computer I got myself I didn’t personally build, but I used a website called CyberpowerPC to choose all of the hardware and pre-installed software myself. I was still fairly new to that sort of thing then, so I had to use Google a lot to research all of the different hardware options: what they meant, what the differences were, and so on. The parts I chose

To some parents, teenagers may seem like aliens because they don’t understand them. In reality, the world deals with communicating with the unknown, this happens with languages and miscommunication between parents and children. In the story, Louise deals with trying to understand the heptapods language trying to communicte with her daughter. In The Story of Your Life, Ted Chiang uses imagery to help support the theme “Communication with the unknown”.

I am not really sure where to begin. I was born on February 24, 1998 to Dawn Marie Rossean; my father is Michael Jared Burgess. My mom named me Ellen Frances Doutre, and until I was fourteen years old that was my full name; at which time, my father was added to my birth certificate along with his name, but he conveniently forgot to hyphenate it so I now have to explain that I have two last names not one: Burgess. It became very problematic when I was trying to apply for colleges, because even my high school originally got it wrong.

When it was time to give me my name, my parents decided to give me my name, my parents decided to give me three first names: Joelle Czarisse Mae. From what I was told, my father and mother wanted to give me a name they thought of themselves and a name they thought of together. The name ‘Joelle’ was from my father, after his own name ‘Joel’. The name ‘Mae’ was from my mother, using the available letters in her own full name. The name ‘Czarisse’ was the name both of my parents thought of together. In all honesty, I feel no animosity towards any of my three names. Having three names can be convenient during certain situations, but sometimes, my name could be an adversary for me whenever the school mistakes me for my sister because we share one

My first name identifies me as a person who is part of an American family and my last name identifies me as a person who is part of a Mexican family. Usually others think that I am mean or that I am a shy individual because of my appearance. I don’t really consider myself as a rude individual but yes a shy one mostly because when I meet a person I tend to let them speak to me first before I try and talk to

My appearance has always been a mystery to outsiders. They question my race, struggling to solve the puzzle as they focus on my caramel colored skin, big brown eyes, and curly brown hair. I force a smile to hide a feeling of exhaustion as I explain the story of my ancestry for what seems to be the thousandth time. My mom is an Afro-Caribbean born in Trinidad, and half Chinese. My dad is Irish. Their eyes widen in astonishment, surprised that one could own up to such a myriad of identities.

I could feel the warmth and excitement coursing through my veins. A buzz of pure exhilaration filled a shadowy room of sweaty bodies. A feeling of unity grew amongst the crowd; our hollow bodies had finally found their home after being forgotten and lost for centuries. Suddenly, a chant roared out from the crowd, building the suspense second by second. The shadows diminished as the lights flashed on, and the revitalized crowd lunged forward, desperately reaching for the stage, as if they were yearning towards the light for dear life. It was about to begin: I was about to watch my favorite band play live for the first time.

Early in the morning, the ball dribbles and echoes throughout the gym. The sound of the rim thuds, as the ball bounces and rolls around it. The sunlight comes through the window and illuminates the gym, and no one but myself in sight. The sweat begins to make its way down my forehead, and drips down my face onto the sleek, shiny floor. I begin to breathe deeply and repeat the drill, in and out and pull-up jumper, swish. As I finish practicing, I hurry to get to class.

Last name’s have a large role in one’s family history and can be traced to find out the origin of where you are from and the culture one identifies with. There are millions of different surname used throughout the world and each one has a unique meaning. In most Spanish and Portuguese speaking countries, two or more last names may be used. Where as in most Asian countries, the surname is placed before a person’s first name. The history of a “last name” evolves from a medieval naming practice called a “byname”, often based on an individual’s occupation or area of residence.

I open my eyes at the sound of someone’s voice. I know that voice-- it’s…

It was a warm summer day with good air, most kids were out riding their bikes, scooters, etc. or running around, playing tag, yet I was huddled inside, reading a good book. The sun was shining bright, yet the clouds were blocking it, acting like the filter in a juice machine, separating the good stuff from the bad stuff. The clouds let the light come in just enough so it can light up everything, but not enough to make you sweat when not doing draining activities. This made it the perfect weather to play outside (that’s why so many other kids were scootering, biking, etc.), I was gripped in the midst of my book waiting for it to go on, so I didn’t follow the other kids’ lead and go out and play. Finally, my mom got enough of me cooped up in

“No, I’m not going to listen to someone who tried to kidnap me.” Then I sprinted out the door as fast I could.

The summer after my sophomore year was hell. Choices I had made led me into serious trouble with my parents, who made sure that I didn’t have a chance to make more mistakes like that again. Only being let out of the house to work on the farm for my grandpa, I had to find different forms of entertainment. This was when I got back into reading. I have always loved reading, but never had time to, or was too busy with other things to sit down and actually enjoy a good book. I read almost half of the young adult section in the Blackfoot library that summer. About half way through July I found the best book I had ever read. It was almost a complete map of my life, and spoke the words in my head that I couldn’t understand. This was written by Ned Vizzini and is called It’s Kind of a Funny Story.

People don’t realize the sad truth that I’ve been holding on for and secretly suffering with most of my life. People seem to see me as a girl that is naturally bubbly, happy, and outgoing. This was a way for me to hide my real emotions in the time when my depression and anxiety were major factors impacting my self-esteem, just a couple of years ago. So, yes, I admit it -- I was a victim of depression and anxiety. My anxiety has been occurring ever since I was a toddler. My usual anxious behavior would be when I would easily get nervous, wouldn’t talk that well in order to be understood, would go through emotional meltdowns at times, and so forth. My depression however, seem to connect a lot with my anxiety because of my meltdowns and it would easily bring my self-esteem down. One interesting fact about my depression is that it got extreme when I was in middle school. Many events in that time of my life made me feel absolutely worthless inside.