My, My Family, And My Life

Flurries of snow roiled in motion under the command of capricious, roaring winds. I stood and marveled at the sight as my eyes traced the white balls thudding against the ground and architectures all at once at exactly the same speeds. Particles of snow danced in joyful synchronization in mid December of ‘05. This was my earliest recollection. This was the day I left my family 12,678 kilometers away to come to the United states for the pursuit of a better way of life. I remember sitting on a rusty old bench on the first day of Kindergarten. The sounds of children at play echoed from the playground, stomping and running and laughing. None of the worries of adults crossed their minds, only how to elude capture by their friends. The rhythmic creaking of swings went back and forth, and some kids tried to time their jumps from the swings to the rhythm. I was one of those children growing up who would pry open a brand new remote control car to pull every component apart than play with it. I surmise this is where my love of engineering truly began.

Growing up, my family lived in a inner-city, working-class neighborhood. While my neighborhood had its many issues, it was still a safe and supportive place in which to grow up because I was surrounded by others who looked like me. However, in

Even after the Immigration and Nationality Act of 1965 passed, and new groups came with the lifting of nationality-based quotas, immigrant areas have still formed according to “chain migration” (Foner 19). One still notices enclaves growing in size as networks of families and friends settle near earlier arrivals. Although “satellite Chinatowns” (Zhou 209) have formed in Flushing and Sunset Park, Flatbush has developed a strong Jamaican character and a Liberian community has emerged in Clifton, these areas grow upon the tradition of “intimate neighborhoods offering stability and security” (Conzen 30) common at the turn of the twentieth century. Containing institutions from Chinese tutoring centers to roti restaurants and African boutiques that provide newcomers with familiar goods and services, these enclaves connect immigrant groups while adding new cultural flavors that diversify the demographic landscape of the city. Although new immigrant communities have evolved according to network traditions, they familiarize New Yorkers with a diverse range of cultures not present before

Traveling between the Bronx and Manhattan has allowed me to see that even though they are so close in distance, everyone is yet so far. Being raised in the Bronx has allowed me to gain a sense of home and recognition, but also how stereotypes are meant to deceive us. The Bronx is labeled as a dangerous place, where violence occurs, but people neglect the beauty and happiness that surrounds it too. Meanwhile, when people think of Manhattan, they see it as the heart of New York where everyone is living their dreams. When in reality, the “heart” of New York is much more distant from itself, and that is not just because it is on an island.

Growing up, my first memories are from living in a small town called Topinabee in Michigan. With such a small population, it’s probably safe to say that every resident could be spotted at Ken’s Grocery Market at some point during a given week. Not until I returned to this town to visit family, did I notice something peculiar: a scarcity in black people. Although this detail didn’t really bother me, it got me thinking about the kind of life I might have had if I didn’t move to Joliet, Illinois before starting kindergarten. I most likely would have been sheltered from the diversity I am exposed to today. I like to think that I would be able to adapt just as easily now as I did when I was four, but that can’t be proven.

I have grown up in a pleasant neighborhood filled with color and culture. I explore my community and bask in the comfort offered by its members. It isn’t a perfect place like some other neighborhoods, but it has its ups and downs like any other. Edgewater, the name of my neighborhood, gives the youth a vast amount of freedom, but also the responsibility of being self aware with themselves and others. Edgewater has helped me create new, diverse friends which has helped form my personality and how I perform around people. This neighborhood is more like a family, considering I have been living here all of my life. I have seen this neighborhood change throughout the thirteen years I have lived here, each from different perspectives. Even as it

The neighborhood, where I grew up was a middle-class family community. It was a simple area, everybody knew each other. The adults recognized how many children there are in each house. Most of the people were home owners, there were a few who rented but the residents make it their business to get acquainted with them. It was calm and pleasant neighborhood. The neighbors would go out and live their doors open with no worries. Safety was not an issue because their take care of each other. As a child I did not have anything to fear about except my homework in case I decided to go play before I was finish. Children walked back and forth to school with no adult supervision. The younger children walk with the older ones. We went to

A city that’s lost it’s meaning of community, and a neighborhood that is frequently represented for its poverty and high crime-rate is what I call home. Everyday I wake up thankful that my parents who through their own struggles have overcome their own adversities to put a roof over my head to provide me the essentials so that I can break the transgenerational cycle of poverty. Even through the haze of these tough times it was then that I still kept my eyes open till now, seeing that I had to take full responsibility to not be blinded, influenced and pressured to believe that living in an environment that was going to set me back from my own hopes and dreams produced an example that no teenage girl should experience in her life. Yet, it is these moments that I remember the most with my parent's because of their undying emotional support that I continue to achieve great success in my academics by staying motivated, studying diligently and maintaining the grades that I currently have, along with all of that dedicated work it is that in June 2017, I will be able to achieve a goal that neither of my parents did; that is to get my high school diploma and go to

My life has been split into two very disparate halves. I spent the first 8 years of my life growing up in the urban jungle of Queens Borough New York. New York is the largest city in America, as well as one of the largest in the world. The city was a palpable living, breathing entity that I could feel all around me as I grew up in the center of this metropolis. I grew accustomed to the flocks of pigeons that bustled around as if there lived a separate city above my own. I learned how to navigate the twisted network of roads that joined my apartment building with the rest of the urban sprawl. The sound of police sirens, trucks, and people became my lullaby as I fell asleep. I learned to love not only the movement of the people in the city, but also the diversity of the populace that surrounded me. Queens was a melting pot, something evidenced by the multiple areas populated by African Americans, Asians, Europeans, Hispanics, and Indians. Diversity was the norm. My own parents, who met and married in New York, are a perfect example of this level of cultural interaction, my mom being an immigrant from Ecuador, and my father being a descendent of Yugoslavian immigrants. The art, music, and literature of New York is composed of expressions from a diverse multitude of nations, all contributing their own influences to the vibrant cultural atmosphere that thrives in the city. I was exposed to this mosaic of human interaction from a very young age. I would best describe myself as a speck of paint in a massive portrait of the Big Apple.

When interviewing Miss Simpson on November 01, 2017, I learned that fifty-years ago, Lockwood was a predominately African-American neighborhood. It was a neighborhood where neighbors would speak during encounters, participate in engagements in the community, take walks around the block, entertain each other in their homes, and watch after the children. Essentially, it was more than a neighborhood. It was a community. Fast forward to 2017, things are different at first sight. New houses that scream, “Gentrification” are being built on almost every block. At first, they seem to be out of place as they stand in comparison to the older houses. Houses that have witnessed more things than I could ever imagine. Houses that I would soon learn to have occupied by multiple generations. Houses that had a story.

I grew up in Indiantown, a tiny place, in the middle of nowhere, in Martin County with barely a red light to its name and no chance of development, whatsoever. During middle school, I then moved to Bartow – a slightly less small town, with almost no opportunity for development. After High School, I moved to Orlando with my mother so she could live closer to her job. Thankfully, Orlando (currently, at least) is ripe with opportunity and growth. In Indiantown, there were several of my mother’s siblings (and their children) living here, as well, but the majority of the population were Spanish-speaking and retirees. So, I there was very little opportunity to socialize, other than with my relatives. And my mother’s

Although USA has many different cities, in this discussion, we will be limited to three Cities i.e. New York, Los Angeles and Chicago. In the 3 cities we shall broadly discuss the growing up experience in each of the 3 states, strategic features and their staple foods. Finally, the New South Wales in Australia and London in UK would also be looked at. Lenape, an Algonquin who were hunters, fishers and farmers were the first natives of New York. As a result when you meet people from New York interrogate them immediately on where exact they lived on to see if they really mean it (Siegal, Allan and William 98). Childhood in New York city was characterized by: First, going to school that actually had racial diversity, learning how to ride the subways and catch up public buses at a very tender age, having friends from all socioeconomic backgrounds, when you watched movies filmed in New York, you could almost always recognize where they are so easily, begging your parents to let you take gymnastics and ice skating lessons at Chelsea Piers, tasting every kind of cuisine out there ( from Ethiopian to Greek-Japanese-Spanish fusion), Facebook albums from high school which often featured the backdrop of the Union Square, high schools full of metal detectors and many security guards, knowing the Grand Prospect Hall , and knowing what the owners look like, knowing who Doctor Zizmor is and that it’s worth your time to queue at Gray’s Papaya and

Have you ever had something or someone taken away from you that you loved? For me it was my family. Everyday was the same, wake up, go to school, eat lunch, go to lacrosse practice, then go home and spend time with family. Nothing ever changed and i liked it that way. My life was very simple and recently it was my 18th birthday. Ever since i turned 18, i have been seeing things. Seeing things out of the corner of my eye to be exact. This tall, black shadow. Every time i turn my head to see it face on, it disappears.

My mom once told me when I was young and ignorant, “Faith is the foundation of a beautiful friendship with the one person who will always remain by your side”. These words were expressed even more profoundly every Sunday in the echoing corridors of a small church by a priest I had yet to know or even care about. Preaching with his perplexing words in which I could only muster barely a fourth of my full attention span listening to. Thus, the term faith did not exactly resonate with me until many years later. My early years were filled with the teachings of the bible in Sunday school and later on as well in middle school during Friday night sessions. Unfortunately, my mom was an extremely strong enforcer of our faith for she was also raised Catholic from birth, but my dad on the other hand has a more scientific approach to how the world came to be. The years I spent in Sunday school blurred into an everlasting line of bleak nothingness just a ticking clock waiting till an end. Even today I do not remember anything that occurred within those taxing sixty minuets of constant bible studies it’s as though I lost the key to the inner workings of my childhood. Nonetheless, there have always been unbelievably great role models in my faith such as my mom, youth ministers, and friends who encourage me to be open to my faith. However, it’s always been my own restrictions that prevent me from furthering my relationship with God. So when my sister suffered her first severe

I had always wanted to be just like Indiana Jones, an archeologist, who traveled all over the world and almost always got the girl. When I was a kid that was my life and my dream. I prioritized my life to my dream at the time, I even used to take my sisters Barbies, which she disliked, and would “mummify” them which usually consisted of wrapping them in toilet paper, and burying them in an old shoebox deep in my backyard. A few days later I would “excavate” the mummified remains, and dig up the shoe box. It’s a childish example but it’s understood that even at a young age I worked towards my goal. That was my work ethic, my drive and determination as a kid to be like Indiana Jones, to be an archeologist. Much like my aspirations as a kid had a drive, so does everyone else in the world, it is a possibility that it occurs that the work ethic is affected by a class one is a part of. This is certainly seen in the many poor and middle class citizens that work hard and aim for a higher lifestyle. However, the end result is the same not only do the middle and lower classes work hard, but so does the upper class demonstrated by many of the CEO’s interviewed by Kasperkevic. So to say that work ethic is different among classes is in some ways wrong because work ethic is a will to work found in everyone, no matter what they do or who they are.