My Life - Original Writing Essay

Topic (Biographical Essay): We are interested in learning more about you and the context in which you have grown up, formed your aspirations, and accomplished your academic successes. Please describe the factors and challenges that have most shaped your personal life and aspirations. How have these factors helped you to grow?

As far as my career goals; there are two areas in which I would exercise my communication skills in: Basketball coaches or Deaf Service Specialist. What inspires and motivates me the most is sports. I love basketball. When I’m on the fields, I think about nothing but winning

I never really thought about where my life was going. I always believed life took me where I wanted to go, I never thought that I was the one who took myself were I wanted to go. Once I entered high school I changed the way I thought. This is why I chose to go to college. I believe that college will give me the keys to unlock the doors of life. This way I can choose for myself where I go instead of someone choosing for me.

This explains the beginning of my life all the way to the end of my life. My life from the beginning was very fun as I grew up living with my mom’s friend and my friend. But there were a lot of fights and I was very hyper back then. I have ADHD so back then when I was little; I was very hyper and wouldn't stop moving around the place. I always was annoying back then and never seemed to get my homework done at school.

I am at room in a very spacious hotel with beautiful ambience and a relaxed atmosphere, far away from the hustles and bustles of this world. And as i could visualize an endless wilderness and say; “it’s in middle of nowhere”, so is this locational description of this hotel. What I now know though, is that it’s at the periphery of our Narok County, deep at the Maasai Mara, Kenya. The hotel usually visited by the high and mighty of this world: Hollywood movie producers, renowned basket ballers and was actually visited by Barack Obama, when he was the United States Senator, Illinois.

Hearing the four word combo of “four page cultural autobiography” in class easily sent a shiver down my spine when it was announced. I sat there thinking to myself, “Okay… I’m a 5’9,” sport loving, white guy that stayed at his home town college. I am just about as average as it comes, this paper will surely be the death of me.” However, after only a handful of classes I realized there’s a lot more to each and every individual that is worth sharing and learning about. What’s average on a personal level could be extraordinary to someone living in different circumstances and I took that for granted for far too long. This allowed me to dig deeper into where I’ve come from and the personal experiences that have shaped who I am to this day. My parents are both white but grew up in completely different cultural backgrounds. My father lived in a predominantly white are where my mother lived in Evansville and worked at a small family pizza shop in a predominantly black area of Evansville. As parents do, they have played a large role in shaping me culturally.

At 7:30 a.m. on June 15th 2008, Mr. Jackson called a meeting with two out of his remaining ten workers. They gathered together in the Kennedy Conference Room to discuss the recession and the effects it has had on this business they all work for.

She realizes out of here experience that all her relatives tolerate her out of love. As a result she wants to lead a fragmented life in a fragmented Island as she is already a disillusioned being with no sense of understanding or a healthy bondage between herself and her family members. The sinister charm of the Island calls her to more meaningful and satisfying existence as a gift witnessed very many magic activities of her father. She craves for such a bewitching life that is possible only in Island along with her unborn child.

My life. My life to some people is just perfect. I have wonderful parents who love me. I play every sport, and I also have wonderful grades that will get me into any colleges when I get older. If I keep it up perhaps. I am only in 7th grade. A boy who is just starting to like girls, and is beginning to see how reality actually is. Know longer a small 6th grader in middle school. I am in junior high. Two more years I will be in high school. I will be one of them jocks you see who has the prettiest girl by his side, and the coolest friends. The girls want me,and the guys want to be me. I got the speed, the chase, the looks, and even the money. All that does not matter. It's not easy being good at sports; having good grades ,or even a good home life. It's about jealousy. People not wanting me to succeed in anything I do. Then the bullying happens, the cutting, the crying, and even trying to kill yourself without your parents finding out how cold and lonely you actually are. This is where it all began. This is when I finally decided I could no longer be in this beautiful perfect world people call home.

I still remember the day my father left my mom and I . It was a cold rainy Sunday morning my mom and I were screaming begging him to come back. Telling him over and over that we loved him and would that we would do anything for him to stay. But it was too late by the time we got to the end of the driveway he was gone like a ghost in the night. The years after that were some of the worst in my life. I was lost, I was a boy without his father going through my school years I was harassed by my peers day in day out. Elementary school was hell for me I didn 't have any friends I was alone. I would come home with cuts and bruises. When my mom would ask I would make up excuses. I felt like if I told her I would be worrying her too much. I was so happy when my mom told me we were moving. It was a fresh start away from the bullies and the fighting. We were moving to a small little town in the middle of nowhere but I didn’t care as long as I was safe. My mom had gotten a job as a customer service provider. Things were starting to get better. I started doing better in school my grades were looking good. Until kids learned about my father leaving. I don’t know how the kids learned about it. But the bullying started back up again, that 's when I started to lash out. I started fighting back almost everyday or at least try to anyway. I was weak I was a nerd I didn’t play any sports. I was a computer geek. But through all the fighting something good came out of it. I made my first friend.

As I was sitting in my car parked in front of my house, watching my tears fall drop for drop while the rain pelted against my windshield, I asked myself why did this have to happen? Why did my mother have to pass away? I felt like the world came crashing down on me, but I had to be the strong one and hold my family together. In the end, I found that the bravery I was trying to display was only hurting me. I stepped out of the car and peered over my shoes and as the water came streaming down to the muddy ground beneath me I felt a peculiar beat in my stomach. For years I had walked into my house and seen her face as I opened the door, but on that night it all came to an end. As I walked upstairs to her bedroom, there she was, lying on the floor breathless. Clinging to my brother, I took a few steps forward and sat on the floor next to her. As I sat there next to her, with tears running down my face, I forgot the pain I felt inside and remembered that everything in life happens according to God’s will. So I stilled the pain I felt inside, wiped my tears and accepted the fact that she would no longer be on this earth with me.

The late hours into the night, holding my mother as she cried herself to sleep became a sign. My family was going to fall apart. She would wail about the troubles over her husband cheating. I would comfort her as I silently prayed her pain would end. It was no shock when my mother asked me what I thought about her getting a divorce. My soul was relieved she had finally considered ending the marriage. I was six years old struggling with what I was to do to keep my family mostly together.

Out of all the manifestations I ever had in my life, I never expected to see myself running away to survive. I never dreamed I had to run from my country to save my life. As I peered through my window, looking down from the butterscotch-hue sky. I could see clouds of damp smoke and dust rising up from the ground. Bombings in Managua took place almost immediately. I had a flashback moment; Grandpa Luna once shared his family stories. The one that really stick out the most was about his grandfather who emigrated from Italy. His grandmother also emigrated from Germany. They came to America in the 1840s. His grandfather Angelo F. Cagliero was a nineteen-year-old, who, like me, also survived a war. The difference was that he fought to defend his country from the French. Cagliero eventually graduated as a lawyer at one of the most prestigious university of the world in Rome. However, when he shared his convictions in the open; his own people just like Nicaragua persecuted him. The Italian government was not-yet-unified. He was a political philosopher and freethinker regarding religion; his qualities made him a dangerous man. He was forced to emigrate, seeking freedom and religious liberty. He sailed to New York and arrived on a ship in the mid 1850s like most Europeans immigrants. My great grandfather Angelo fled his beloved country because he ran out of choices. I was reliving the same ordeal. I was a target just for being a young man, not because I differ with anyone’s

Oh, my God, my Heavenly Father, here I stand a broken daughter. Lord, hear my plea and lend Your ear. You knit me together in my mother’s womb, knowing what mistakes Your daughter would make . You made me who I am, and knew me before the world even began, your scriptures say that even before the world knew me, you knew each strand on my golden head . You knew me, and yet I have stumbled bruised and bloodied into Your throne room. I am unfit, to even been in Your presence, but even in the darkest, sin induced coma, you have spoken my name with tender love, and yet here my story is in ink.

myself, he was right, he was worried about me and I think his worry led him to act this way.