Outline Of A Brief Autobiography

I find it slightly unfitting to write an autobiography at the young age of 18. Personally, I feel as if my perspective is not the same as many people my age. This is the word of someone who was born in the wrong generation; the story of someone who feels so different from other young adults. Someone born years too late, with still so much to learn can be conflicting.

My parents Immigrated from Poland to the United States in search for better opportunity for the children that they planned to have. When my parents finally made the move, they started with nothing and no one to turn to; they did not even know how to speak English. All my parents knew for sure was that they were going to raise three children in America and do all they could possibly do to motivate and make them passionate for school. My parents have always wanted their children to achieve the careers of their dreams and be able to support their own family as well as be happy with their lives. My parents have struggled with money their entire lives, which is another reason why they did all they could to get to America and motivate their children for schooling. They did not want their children to struggle with money the way that they did. But this led another issue, affording college. My parents did not have enough money for their children to attend college. Because of this, I have done my best in school to earn outstanding grades and do my best to earn scholarships.

The lake glistened before me as my mom and I pulled into Blue Lake Fine Arts Camp just outside Twin Lakes Michigan. I had been accepted into the International Youth Symphony Orchestra program where after spending a week at the camp the entire orchestra would be heading off on a six week European Tour to share our musical talents and American culture with another part of the world. I knew traveling to a different continent would give me further insight as to who I was a person, but did not imagine the people I would meet would impact me as much as they did.

My earliest memories of being read to was when I was about four or five years old, my mom had read me princess books along with cat in the hat ones. She knew that in order for me to fall asleep, she had to read me a couple pages of the book I wanted. The earliest memory I have of writing was when I started Pre-K, there I began to learn how to write my name. Like most little kids, my handwriting wasn’t the best but It improved over time. I only remember the teacher would give us a worksheet full of colors and we had to learn how to write them out. In Pre-K the students were basically forced to take a nap, before that nap the teacher that I had read us maybe ten pages of a book. All of my memories were

When I was 3 years old, just 19 months after my sister was born, we went on a trip to Florida. We had to wake up at about 3:00 a.m. ,because it takes us an hour to get are luggage in the truck and to get everyone up and dressed. Our truck was a black Suburban. It took an hour and a half to get the airport, an hour or two to get our 3 bags of luggage on the plane,to get breakfast,to get coffee for my Mom, Dad, Nana Pat, and, Papa Daryl. Finally, we got a security check for all of us.

I surveyed the crowd before my speech began, the sea of purple and white graduation gowns and the countless eyes of proud parents, including my own, reminded me of the task at hand. As part of student council, I was asked to deliver a speech to a packed auditorium at graduation. In a matter of moments, the glare of hundreds of people would be focused in my direction, scrutinizing every word and analyzing every one of my carefully crafted sentences. My heart raced and beneath the purple gown my legs shook, however, I hid the adrenaline rush while my thoughts ran through as to what I would soon say. Before I knew it, the previous speaker had finished, and my time had come. I swaggered up to the podium with a smile and gazed out at the familiar faces. Then, for a moment, I paused.

My parents are Hmong refugees that immigrated to the United States after the Vietnam War in the 1970s in search of a better life. In their eyes, America is the land of the free and where dreams can become reality. In Laos, my parents lived an agrarian lifestyle with very little education. Despite their lack of education, they realized that education held the key to success. Throughout my life, my parents emphasized the importance of education and did their best to guide my siblings and me. This was not an easy task for my parents because of the cultural adjustment that they experienced, but they managed to instill in me invaluable character qualities such as patience, perseverance, hard work, sacrifice and courage. I am the third youngest out of twelve children, and I will be the first to receive a Graduates degree.

I was born on January 6, 1878 in Galesburg,Illinois. My wife was born on May, in Hancock,Michigan. I left school after the eighth grade to help my family and I left Galesburg for the first time to see Chicago. It was hot as a Jalapeno in June. When I was 19 I left home in June, I went to work on farms and railroads as a laborer. I was a walking freight train. I rode a freight train then I became a hobo. I sharpened my interest in labor laws and the plight of working people.

I was born in the East African nation of Ethiopia and lived there for the majority of my life. I recently moved to the United States, specifically to New York City. I was the first born to my family, Unlike every other kid in my neighborhood, I, for one, did not spend my childhood singing kumbaya with others. I had a reason to stay behind, but my mother had a more convincing one, every time I tried to play with others I ended up in heated fights, most of the time unaware of the reasons behind said fights. So I obeyed my folks and remained home. While at home, I found different methods to kill time; keep my mind engaged through comic books. Every now and then, my aunts and uncles from America would come to visit and leave me with their children’s DVDs or their comics to keep as a souvenir.

“Every time you dream at night, the dream has holes in it. You have to do something to fix those holes and make the dream become a reality,” my father often told me. Although I was very young when my dad passed away, he provided tremendous inspiration and encouragement to pursue my passions that continue to influence my life and my future endeavors. As a child, one of my favorite pastimes was acting; I would routinely act in videos with my friend while my dad filmed us. Later, I assumed responsibility for filming while my friend would act. I instantly fell in love with videography. I was enthralled with how videography could capture my point of view of the world, which prompted me to try photography. Once I began photography, I knew I wanted

Background: I was born in the Woodlands, TX, and live in Spring, TX with my parents and siblings. I am the third born of four children in my family; I have an older brother, an older sister, and a younger sister. My previous education was my final year at Spring Early College Academy (SECA). On May 31, 2017 I graduated and obtained my high school diploma with a Grade Point Average (GPA) of 3.88. While attending SECA, I attended Lone Star Community College (LSC) and earned 19 college credit hours with a GPA of 2.76. I also have been accepted to attend Sam Houston State University (SHSU) to pursue my major in Political Science. During 2017 Summer semester, I enrolled in Music Appreciation college credit course at LSC at University Park because of its professional environment. For 2017, Fall semester, I elected to enroll in 9 college credit hours and I will pursue my Associate of Arts degree at LSC at University Park. The interest that I have is playing all sets of guitar; which includes electric, acoustic, bass, and banjo. I am a guitarist and participated in concerts and recitals. Also, my favorite hobby is listening to different types of music genre such as jazz, rock, gospel, and classical.

I was born August 24th, 2001. I learned how to walk around 1 and a half. I started talking a lot around two. When I was 3 through 4 years old when my family and I would go camping I would always wonder off and explore with them I was a adventures child. I moved to Hawaii when I was six years old. My dad was deployed into Hawaii when he was in the Army. He was also deployed into Washington when I was 7 I didn’t like it, but it was fun when my Dad wasn’t drunk. When I was seven years old, I discovered video games.I hardly ever went outside to play games. I would just sit there playing games. I would play games all day every day until I was 11. I put on a lot of weight but took it off around age 12 through 13. I scootered a lot when I was 12 through 13.

As I said in my first entry, I have had two moments in my life where I was filled with immense and glorious joy. My first, was the day I wed my Henry in the June of 1836 when I was at the ripe age of 18. He was always an honest and hardworking man and never was there a moment that I believed him to be a fop, a spendthrift, or miser, all of whom I was told to avoid as potential suitors. I, being a well educated and poised young woman back then, had many marriage offers, but Henry’s proposal was the only one I accepted. He was truly the perfect husband, and I fall into a melancholia when I realize that never again will I be in his presence until we meet again in God’s Kingdom.

My experiences with being part of the first generation in my family to participate in post secondary studies has been both remarkable as well as challenging. My father came to Canada as a refugee over 30 years ago and dropped out of school when he was only 16 due to the Sikh genocide that occurred in 1984 where thousands of Sikhs were being killed, raped, and tortured daily by the Indian government. He was forced to work to support his family by working long and hard hours at the family farm. When he finally raised enough money, he came to Canada in hopes of a better life not only for himself, but also for his wife and future children. He worked in a factory when first coming to Canada and finally saved enough money to buy a truck. My mother

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