My New York Story Essay : My New York Story

Even though I’ve eaten lobster rolls, sported L.L. Bean jackets, and cruised lighthouse-studded coastlines, I am anything but a New-Englander. Though this has been by 4th year in Massachusetts, I still feel like I’m still the new kid on the block, the midwestern girl who’s naive to the traditions and expectations of New England. But, I am comfortable here, a result of many challenges I had to face over the time I spent in Massachusetts. These challenges did not arise when I first moved out—I was very unhappy the first and second year—it was during Sophomore year, when I started to adapt and be happy, did challenges from home spring forth on me. These challenges were from the people that I had left, family, friends, and others who felt that

New York, a state that is well known but feared. When meeting a New Yorker most people will expect to meet someone who is intimidating, fast paced, rude, and a little cocky and honestly they would be right most of the time but this is because they operate within a different state of mind, the mind set of step up, speed up, or get the F out of the way. New York is the melting pot of the world, being one of the most diverse places of culture, food, being the center of financial trading, fashion, entertainment and having the ability to come together during hardship.

New York City is a very famous place all over the world. A lot of people think that it is the best place to live. However, some people have a different point of view. I think that New York City is a good place to live for two reasons.

It’s the sixties. Racism is running hot through the streets of New York. One neighborhood in particular, where one group of boys makes the choice that will change their lives and everyone’s around them forever. These boys are young, full of talent and smart. These boys choose to take all of what they had and throw it away. What happens to these boys next is something that you would not want to wish on anybody. Here these young talented boys cram into a car and ride to the African-American neighborhood. The boys toss burning bottle of alcohol through a glass window into a store. With burning bottles shattering left and right there is one that doesn’t break. This one bottle was tossed back into these boys car and there is

New York is a state where there are big lights and lots of people and busy streets. I live in Brooklyn, New York and I was born here and I have lived here all my life. Personally, where I live I can walk to go get groceries that I need and everything is in walking distance. I take the public subway or the bus to get to school and there are many public schools here in Brooklyn, New York. There are delis and corner stores almost around every block. Here in Brooklyn, it is very noisy and busy. I am so used to the noise that I can sleep soundly even with all the noise that surrounds my house. Personally, I think that if I were not born here or was not a New Yorker, I would plan to move here when I get older.

Buffalo New York, a city in western new york located between Lake Erie and Lake Ontario, two of the great lakes, was once known as an industrial capital in the twentieth century. The city has now shifted into a more sustainable lifestyle, taking the once industrial factories and transforming them into different attractions. As of today this is their sustainable triple bottom line of people, planet, and profit:

Flushing is the historic Anglicization of the Dutch name of the town. In 1645, Flushing was constructed by Dutch settlers. Then, the white middle-class community became the main community during the 1970s and it was difficult to find other ethnic communities, like South American, Asian, Africans and so on. However, because of the depth of depression, the white middle-class community started to move away and according to Jack Eichenbaum, the Queens borough historian, “Long Island and its suburban-style malls siphoned people and business away from Flushing,” therefore, “Flushing was dying in the 1970s.” and when there was no major community in that area, a vast number of Asian immigrants started to settle and dominate the area, which brought

The essay begins with a short description of the writer’s own experience when she arrived in New York, from the bustling in the crowded streets, to the impersonal existence in her apartment, as she knows none of her neighbors and can only speculate who they are and what they are doing by the sounds they’re making. She moves on to giving several examples of how New Yorkers react with apathy when in crowds, even when something utterly absurd happens, like a woman wearing only her bathrobe on the bus exclaims that she must have forgotten her token in

In 1752 at the age seventeen years, I was a destitute living in Scotland, Ireland. With no real skill-trade or education I had high ambitions to become a collective dependant, hoping to achieve a stable lively-hood in the New World. I lost most of my loved sickness. The only few relatives remaining were as impoverished as myself. Fearing there would be no prospect of a better life in Scotland I contracted myself as an indentured servant in exchange for passage to the New World. I and many others boarded a merchant ship that specialized in the trade of textiles and dress making. It was in the interest of the captain to keep us fed and in decent health to be sold for profit to proprietors in the colonies. Our voyage to New York would take 8-9

On a day in which the sun was shining like a new fluorescent light bulb, I sat on a heated metal bench that was located in front of a large, stone fountain where a brace of ducks lingered, and I began to read Chasing Brooklyn.

It was Thanksgiving break and I could not, for the life of me, fall asleep. Given the trend of binge-watching Star Wars with my two older brothers over the previous week until well past midnight, it did not surprise me. So I went downstairs to the living room and picked up my Mom’s latest read, “Humans of New York.” As I opened it I couldn’t help but chuckle, “Mom, reading a picture book? She’s usually a serious reader.” However, as I read the captions to each picture, a realization dawned upon me. There was a common element threaded throughout the stories. Life, can be a struggle. It is one long game and you only get to play once. We all deal with life differently, take different routes, and end up in different places. But the important thing

Living in America is a fantasy for a lot of people, but living in New York City is something even better, and more magical than any fantasy.

Away is a documentary about the surfing subculture in New York City that is shown through three female surfers at Rockaway Beach.

Heavy raindrops spilled from the gray clouds above and people were scattering in all directions. I remember tightly clenching my mother's wrist out of self-assurance as we continuously bumped into frustrated strangers. "Let's wait this storm out in the local library," she had told me in between shivers. At the craziness of the moment, I wasn't sure if her decision was due to home being five blocks away or my nonstop complaints. I wanted to ask what a library was, but I figured that my question would just add to my mother's stress and annoyance. We stopped before the doors of a typical building that displayed the following words in huge yellow print: "Welcome to the Brooklyn Public Library." I specifically recall breathing a sigh of relief

The sounds of the city penetrated the walls of the cab as we drove through the streets of Manhattan. I could hardly wait to partake in the action that was happening outside. The buildings themselves were an amazing site to behold. The buildings took on personalities of their own. Each building was bigger and more graceful than the next. When lights were added to the mix it was a dazzling combination. The city itself felt like a great big hug, and I felt overwhelmed by its power. The city allowed me to become part of it just like many others many years ago who immigrated to this awesome city. As I was looking out of the cab I finally got to see in person the sight of all sights; Times Square. The main juncture of