My Experience In My Life

Southern food embodies a history that has evolved over time and explains why we have come to believe of exclusive foods as deeply southern. “The South is a world so shaped by history and memory that is difficult to separate myth from reality. The same is true for southern food” (Ferris, 3). Southern foods are rooted in culture and traditions of the past. “Real southern food is distinctive, innovative cuisine that is grounded in the world of local agrarian traditions—soil, waters, region, season, flora and fauna—and the influence of global cultures” (Ferris, 3). Through agricultural innovation, southern food has advanced to become the tasteful southern cuisine

Outside of his religion, JJ Alex engages in other traditions that affect the food he eats. Thanksgiving was always a custom in his house as far as he can remember. He and his family enjoy turkey, stuffing, collard greens, candied yams (sweet potatoes) and many other dishes on this day. What surprised me was that many of his dishes mentioned had a lot of southern influence to them. I thought to myself “how does someone who was born and raised in the northeast be exposed to so much southern style food?” I then proceeded to ask, “So where does the southern edge come from?” He told me that his mother’s side of the family is originally from Texas. He can remember his grandfather’s famous collard greens, dumplings, and pickled cucumbers.

I have descended into a French Canadian American heritage that has been settled in New England for quite some time. Being a working class New England citizen, I cherish the cultural icon of beer battered fish ‘n chips. The commodity of fish ‘n chips is significant to my culture and my diet. This classic seafood plate represents my appreciation for seafood and the value of New England fishing prosperity. The plate is not only a significant staple to my diet but also to many of other New England citizens. The value of fish ‘n chips in the region is reflected by its outstanding popularity as a cultural icon, and to many such as myself, the highly accessible seafood staple is comfort food.

On the East coast we see a prevalence of small farms producing huge varieties of produce, grains, meats, etc. These regions are heavily populated with most of the food produced being sold locally. In the Deep South, fruits and textiles, such as cotton, are grown. The Entire Mid-west to the west is full of gigantic factory farms that produce goods for the massive factory food systems within the United States. What is so important about knowing the different regions in the US? Knowing what is produced in these regions can help to point out how and why cultures in certain regions develop. In Louisiana where rice is grown in flooded fields a culture of eating Crawfish has sprung up. The rice patties created by Louisiana farmers make a great living space for crawfish. The crawfish population explosion was caused by rice agriculture, and to combat the problem a culinary culture of eating “mud bugs”

Have you ever been in a conversation where you have no clue what to say next. Have you ever been in a situation where you see someone you don't know and wanna talk to them but dont have the courage to say anything?

I don’t know how to start my story.I might start it when I was a baby or as far as I can remember. Let’s go as far as I remember. It’s not going to be much but i’ll try my best to tell you.

My home has always been a place of physical, mental and spiritual healing for many people. My Grandmother is a retired nurse who loved people and was always administering treatment at home. Watching her helping to restore the health of people and bringing joy back to families every day made me see her as a superhero. Her passion and dedication for her job inspired me daily. She thought me how to combine knowledge, wisdom, and prayers to make an impact in the lives of people around me.

When I was younger, I always found myself with a pencil and paper in my hand. I would leave a multitude of marks on the paper in some form or fashion, whether it be scribbles, repetitive words and sentences, my name, or the names of family members. Growing older, I would find myself writing more than enough when it came to essays. I could never bring myself to leave out any details and I rarely used simple sentences. Originally, I thought it was because I wanted the validation of my parents and teachers, but it was something else I had yet to realize. I liked writing and it hit me one day when I was in my room, listening to music.

“Still there are times I am bewildered by each mile I have travelled, each meal I have eaten, each person I have known, each room in which I’ve slept. As ordinary as it all appears, there are times when it is beyond my imagination.”

As I'm writing this, we have just returned from a 5 day hospital stay. Life has become a series of doctors' appointments, tests, and hospital stays. This is life with a chronic illness. . . especially one of which not much is known. But life wasn't always this way.

Throughout my life I have encountered many circumstances that have shaped me into the person I am today. I started life in a small house outside of Mackinaw, Illinois. I lived in that house for eleven years, and while I was there I became the oldest of four children. That in itself has been an experience, teaching me a lot about being an example and impacting my views on responsibility. I have a brother who, quite frankly, is the worst behaved kid I know. He lies, steals, and misbehaves compulsively. Academically he is not much better. He was held back in first grade due to a refusal to do homework, and has barely scraped by ever since, consistently getting D’s and F’s. Miraculously, he is now in eighth grade, but he still is not doing much better academically or behaviorally. He is actually very smart; he just refuses to do work which is why he fails. At home he fights with my younger brother and sister and pushes my patience to its limits constantly. Through it all there is a silver lining. He has taught me tolerance and patience. I have learned to deal with other people and annoyances through my experiences with Brock, and find that I am generally harder to anger than others. The lessons in patience that I have learned from Brock have helped me a lot in working with others, and have contributed greatly to my successes in academics, but no single person or experience has impacted my outlook on life as much as my Mom.

Until I was about nine years old, I never felt uncomfortable about myself. Sure I had funny glasses, large frizzy hair, and a smile which stretched just a tad too wide, but it was just who I was. Fourth grade seemed to be the pivotal moment where the issues started which would later go on to shape the rest of my life. It started off innocently enough. Who do you like, do you want to go shopping, can I paint your nails, etc. I would respond simply. I don’t like anyone, I don’t want to go shopping, no I don’t want you to paint my nails. I had no idea then, but these were not the answers people expected me to give. They wanted to know which boy I liked, when we were going to go shopping, and how I wanted my nails painted. Shortly I found myself spending most of my time alone. I didn’t understand it. What was wrong with me? Why did I not like doing the things other girls liked doing? I feared the answers that I might give, so those questions went largely unanswered.

I remember my parents calling me up an hour before midnight telling me that they would be coming home late from work. That was how I grew up my entire life until I entered high school. As an immigrant family, my parents had to run the extra mile to provide for our family. I was the oldest of my family. Therefore, I had to step up as the mother figure and to take care of my younger brother. Sometimes, my friends would ask me to hang out with them or to come over my house. My answer was no most of the time. I had a younger brother in the house who needed my help with his homework. He couldn’t feed himself so I had to feed him. I remember putting him to sleep one night and just asking myself why I had to do this. I wanted to hang out with my friends and act like a child that I was. I was an eleven-year-old who had to grow up because of the circumstances. And I did not like that. As time passed by, my parents were settling in to this new surrounding and they began to take some of their time off from work to spend time with me and my brother. Even then, there were times where I had to take care of my brother because he couldn’t be home alone.

“Experience is how life catches up with us and teaches us to love and forgive each other”, Judy Collins. I used to look at my life as a series of misfortunate events. It wasn’t until I was older that I realized my life, my experiences, made me who I am. This realization changed who I was and who I wanted to be. In The Last Lecture, Randy Pausch wrote, “It’s not about the cards you’re dealt, but how you play the hand.” I was so focused on the cards in my hand, that I couldn’t even play.

When I was younger I used to love crab legs. Everytime my mom would ask me if I wanted to go out to eat and where I wanted to go she always knew I would say Red Lobster. It didn’t have to be a nice occasion or anything special. I could have just finished a baseball game and have a pallet of dirt on my uniform and I still wouldn’t care. I wouldn’t care how people felt about it or if I looked dirty. I would do anything to get some nice red crab legs. This all changed on one day when my grandparents and I went out to eat.