My Narrative Essay

So, I got lost in the middle of Silverwood in Idaho with my little cousin…

First, I know that my mother has influenced me in a great number of ways. My mother has taught me about comfort. She’s always there for me and makes me feel comfortable even in odd situations. My mom has taught me about courage. She’s gone

Gowing up to spend the past 18 years of my life on the Chicago Westside has been an interesting journey. I currently live in the Austin community, where there is a population of 98,514 in 2010 and 85.1% is Black, 8.58% is Hispanic, and 4.43% is White. Growing up in an area of complete violence and poverty felt like a game. Making sure you stay on your side of the block, making sure you’re home before dark, and even making sure you never walk alone. Never. A lot of people get scared when they hear about a life like this, but it's reality for me, and I honestly feel pretty comfortable with the people surrounding me. They look like me, talk like me, and even dress like me. We all watch out for each other. It's a family beyond blood that was built in my community. I live on a block where it is 95% Black. Besides my family, there is only one other Hispanic family. I never really left my community or the type of people I surround myself with either. I honestly didn't feel comfortable leaving and going into a “White” community. But my comfort level was really tested when I left for the summer to the

I have always enjoyed school mainly because the work was easy to me. I was an honor roll student with plenty of academic awards presented to me. Elementary school was a breeze and intermediate school brought no competition. However, high school was a different story. My worst subject, by far, was English. I love to read books but to my surprise Harry Potter did not help me analyze short stories. It seemed my brain could not process tone and mood as well as it could understand numbers. Writing essays was an even bigger problem for me. This level of education required more from me than ever before. I, who won the D.A.R.E. essay contest in 5th grade, could suddenly not put my thoughts on to paper. Within the first month of my junior year, I had

In high school how I approached essays is different from how I write essays now that I’m in college. I was a lot more carefree about essays when I was in high school, and I never gave them much thought. I give a lot more thought about essays that I write now that I am in college. Since I changed how I write essays, I am able to write better-developed essays, in my opinion. How I write essays changed, from when I was in high school from now that I’m in college, in more ways than one.

I was ten; it was my first year and first wilderness trip at Camp Birchwood in northern Minnesota. Four other kids, three counselors, and I had been canoeing for three days through the Boundary Waters, a vast network of lakes on the U.S. border with Canada. I’d been camping countless times with my parents and friends, and thought my fit at camp was perfect.

I started this holiday season off depressed! I can’t lie I wanted to skip it! I wanted to leave to a tropical place and forget about the holidays! Why; Because I didn’t get my way, because the world is a mess and my feelings are hurt about it, because my family is too and I can’t fix it. I felt as though my life was a mess and I couldn’t celebrate that. I spoke to a friend about this and this is what she said in a nutshell… “You are looking in the wrong direction. You are so focused on the things that have gone wrong you are not seeing the things that are right. Turn around.” So, I did. This morning I opened my computer and looked at all of the photos that I have taken this year this is what I discovered…..

When I first entered high school, I thought I knew everything I possibly could about writing essays. During my freshmen year, I made good grades in my English class, which only furthered my enormous ego with my ability to write. Moving into sophomore year, a new teacher came to North Murray High School, and I was lucky enough to receive Mrs. Kim Knight for my tenth grade honors English class. She was like no other teacher I have even experienced, Knight, from the very beginning, pushed me in absolutely everything. The first essay was assigned, and I knew I was going to do wonderful. I felt very confident in turning my essay in until she came back with them graded and gave a long speech about how many of us had work ahead, but that was good because she was going to teach us how to compose an essay. Despite the speech, I had some confidence left that my level of writing was good enough to satisfy her criteria. When I received my essay, I could barely rad it because of how many red marks took up the pages. Now my grade was not terrible; I received a high eighty, but that’s when I realized my ability to

She is the greatest mother a son could ask for, and the largest influence in my life. Her influence is with me every day. It is like the wind, one moment so soft that it goes unnoticed the next a gale that cannot be ignored. Her influence can only be described as dynamic. It was the push that I needed when I was afraid to take a step, and the cool reason that protected me when I tried to soar too high. Her love and encouragement was exactly what it needed to be, when it needed to be; for that I will always love and admire the great woman that I call

“Good,” Madge answers genuinely. “I finished with about a minute and a half left on the clock.”

Hannah was more relieved than she dare let on when a reply came through shortly after hers was sent. He wasn’t ignoring her. Though it was more than evident that he was annoyed. In truth she understood, if he had longed to hear from her half as much as she had longed to respond then he had every right to be cold with her. She read through the message a few times, not wanting to make him wait again, but also not wanting to miss anything important in her excitement. The way he had signed off suggested that he wouldn’t be responding anytime soon.

snack. Normally lemonade and cookies. Quite a few times my mother also took us to

Out of 7 billion people, today I’m going to tell you my story. Everyone has a different story. Everyone has been through something that has changed that person. Same thing happened to me. Let me start my story from the beginning.

First day of January 2010 is the day that I would never forget. Everything that happened on that day will always stay vivid in my memory. It all started with a Sunday morning. Unlike usual, that day, I woke up with a bright smile on my face. As soon as I opened my eyes, my sight immediately looked at the side of the grey cupboard at the corner of my room where I hung the calendar. I was so happy when I saw the calendar and the day of first January had finally arrived. I have been waiting for that day to come, first day of January used to be the most exciting day for me because it was my birthday, an important day that I will celebrate with the one and only person who I loved the most, Ben. He was my childhood friend, my neighbor, my

She understood perseverance and the importance of people and she carried on against all odds. The last time I spoke to her, she knew exactly who I was, despite